Chapter 48: The Plan in the Painting

Returning home, her father, mother, and younger sister were all still awake.

A warmth spread in Itomi Sayaka’s heart. She knew that they were all waiting for her because she only came back once a month.

But her parents were one thing. How could a high school girl who still had to go to school tomorrow stay up so late?

“Has Kiyomoto-kun gone back?” As soon as she entered, her mother asked.

“He’s gone back,” Itomi Sayaka stretched lazily, then said as if she had just discovered it, “Oh, is Yuki-chan waiting for her big sister?”

“Who’s waiting for you?” Itomi Yuki, who had already changed into her pajamas, stood up. “Good night.”

“Let’s chat for a while. Otherwise, wouldn’t it be a waste to wait?”

Amidst Itomi Sayaka’s teasing, Itomi Yuki walked towards her bedroom without looking back.

She was really reluctant to see her sister go. When she woke up tomorrow morning, she would have already gone to school, and she herself would have to return to Tokyo.

“Father, what are you reading?” Itomi Sayaka collected her emotions and sat down on the sofa.

“Fukae Kazuhiko’s paper on inflammation,” her father, who had changed into casual clothes and was wearing glasses, replied.

Fukae Kazuhiko was a medical professor at the University of Tokyo.

Itomi Sayaka sank into the sofa.

Her father was reading medical notes, her mother was making tea for her, and her high school sister was sleeping in her bedroom. This was her, Sayaka’s, happiness.

For the scene before her, she was willing to sacrifice everything.

“Here,” her mother brought the tea over.

“Thank you, mother,” Itomi Sayaka came back to her senses. Although she was 26, she still spoke like a little girl.

“If you’re tired, go to bed early.”

“Okay~”

Her mother went to bed first. Her father was still reading the paper, as if he wanted to make up for the time he had spent at the party.

I wonder what father’s capacity would be if he cultivated?
Mother’s might be a little worse. What about her sister… her sister, perhaps not low, but probably not higher than her father’s.

After all, her father was a medical doctor and could even open his own hospital.

Itomi Sayaka drank her tea, immersed in her scattered thoughts.

Her lips touched the teacup, thinking of her family. When her lips left the cup, she thought of another medical student cultivator.

“Father,” she put down the teacup.

“Hmm?” Her father didn’t look up.

“Back then, how did Professor Takamine recommend Kiyomoto to you?”

“Didn’t I tell you?”

“I wasn’t paying attention at the time, so I forgot. Now that I’ve been dating him for a while, I want to see if the him in front of me is the same as the him in other people’s eyes.”

Her father took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes as he recalled.

“Erudite and well-informed.”

“Specifically? It can’t be just a simple compliment, can it?”

“He said that besides medicine, he also dabbles in other fields, such as mathematics and physics.”

“Really?”

“That’s what Takamine said. He said that Minamoto-kun, in order to earn money from his part-time job, even helped a classmate from the mechanical engineering department next door to his dormitory to make a game with code, and created an air guitar using wifi and Bluetooth technology.”

“This guy, so he’s that amazing.”

“Yes, according to Takamine himself, Minamoto-kun is well-versed in the literature and art that he despises. He’s a genius that’s hard to come by even at the University of Tokyo.”

Her father spoke eloquently, as if he had returned to the mentality of when he first introduced Minamoto Kiyomoto to her.

And Itomi Sayaka herself could not be as perfunctory and casual as she was then.

After midnight, everything was silent. The night sky outside the window was dark, and an uneasy haze spread in her heart.

After the whole family had gone to rest, she quietly went out and came to the rehabilitation building of the Itomi Hospital.

The building was indeed a building, but there was not just one, but three.

The one with the best lighting and view had a normal exterior, but the interior was as luxurious as a high-end hotel. This was a special ward for the rich.

Yanagi Michiko lived in one of the suites, as a friend of the young lady of the Itomi family.

“Sister Itomi?” Yanagi Michiko opened the window and let the black-clad Itomi Sayaka, disguised by divine power, in.

“Michiko, have you seen this person?” As soon as Itomi Sayaka landed, she took out her phone as if she had prepared it long ago and showed the photo she had taken with Minamoto Kiyomoto to fool her parents.

The photo was taken with a high-speed road as the background. The two of them were in a car. Minamoto Kiyomoto was driving, and Itomi Sayaka was holding her phone, her head leaning over.

“I’ve seen him a few times. What’s wrong?” Yanagi Michiko’s gentle voice seemed to make even the night lighten its steps, for fear of stepping on it.

“He’s a cultivator by the Divine Miko’s side, and his relationship with the miko of Ise Shrine who came to arrest you is also unclear.”

“Ah!” Yanagi Michiko exclaimed, her deer-like, pure eyes filled with an anxiety that dripped like ink.

“Don’t worry,” the person beside her was anxious, but Itomi Sayaka herself calmed down. “He might have heard about the Yanagi family, but he won’t immediately guess that it’s you.”

Yanagi Michiko still nodded uneasily.

“Have you spoken to him?” Itomi Sayaka asked again.

“I have, but very little.”

“Think carefully. Is there any place where your identity might have been exposed?”

Itomi Sayaka couldn’t help but be so cautious.

A person with a deep capacity needed time to accumulate divine power, and the keenness of their insight needed guidance. But when she thought of Minamoto Kiyomoto’s question before he left, as a woman’s intuition, she didn’t see any spark in his eyes.

In other words, Minamoto Kiyomoto did not ask this question out of love or lust.

Michiko thought for a moment and shook her head gently, “No, but I’m not sure.”

“Perhaps he has already guessed,” Itomi Sayaka did not say this out loud.

This was her guess based on her personal intuition. There was no need to say it and make others uneasy.

“It’s dangerous to be too optimistic about everything. Michiko, just in case, I’ll prepare a car for you. Can you go to Kamakura first?”

This was for Michiko’s good, and also to not expose herself and implicate her sister and parents.

“Yes, I’ll listen to Sister Itomi,” Yanagi Michiko nodded.

◇

On June 4th, it was still a rainy day.

As agreed, at 8 am, the three of them would gather at the wisteria corridor by the large banyan tree and then go to school together.

When Minamoto Kiyomoto came out of the banyan tree, it was exactly eight o’clock. Under the strings of wisteria flowers, only Kamibayashi Miko was there.

It seemed that Himemiya Izayoi was “skipping class” today.

She had drunk last night and slept late. It was raining again today—as long as one wanted to skip class, the reasons were always countless.

“It makes me very uncomfortable to think that others can also see such a beautiful Miss Kamibayashi,” Minamoto Kiyomoto held his umbrella and waited for Kamibayashi Miko to come out of the wisteria corridor.

She was wearing an indigo short skirt and a simple white shirt today.

Her clothes were elegant and very comfortable. The neck protruding from the shirt collar was slender and white.

“Do you think that by praising me every day, you can make me fall in love with you?”

“No, but you are really beautiful, and I happen to be so knowledgeable. It’s not right to say knowledgeable, it’s just that I’m good at expressing the emotions in my heart.”

Hakusan Shrine was full of hydrangeas. The two of them walked in the drizzling rain.

Kamibayashi Miko placed her umbrella on her shoulder, opened the notebook in her hand, and showed it to Minamoto Kiyomoto.

“What’s wrong?” Minamoto Kiyomoto looked over with confusion.

It was filled with the exchanges between the two of them in French literature class.

“Because of what, and what does it mean?” A headless beginning.

“‘The Divine Power Transformation Curse’ can use the bones of a yokai to imitate the shape of a yokai. Can a person become a yokai?”

“What’s the point of becoming a yokai?”

“To be more handsome?”

“Miss Kamibayashi, Miss Kamibayashi, ask Shirako what’s for dinner tonight.”

“Carrot stew, cold tofu, edamame, grilled salmon, tofu and seafood miso soup.”

“Wow, can I have some?”

“Shirako said no.”

Minamoto Kiyomoto remembered that at that time, he had not returned the notebook to Kamibayashi Miko, but had “angrily” doodled on it.

Looking down, the doodle was still there.

The kneeling Kamibayashi Miko, holding a rice bowl in one hand and chopsticks in the other, had a tray in front of her. On the tray were carrot stew, cold tofu, edamame, grilled salmon, and tofu and seafood miso soup.

It was lifelike. Even the caterpillar on the chopsticks seemed to be alive.

The lines were precise and the carving was delicate. It was a ballpoint pen drawing.

Kamibayashi Miko closed her notebook and walked on without saying a word.

“I didn’t mean to hide it from you.”

“You know to be wary of Himemiya Izayoi. You’re still listening to me.”

With their memory, even if they didn’t remember the drawing in the notebook at first, when they deliberately pretended not to be able to draw in front of others, they would immediately recall if they had exposed themselves before.

“I saw Yanagi Michiko in Myogadani when I was still teaching at the cram school,” Minamoto Kiyomoto said.

Kamibayashi Miko didn’t speak, waiting for him to continue.

In front of the shrine’s flower bed, an old man who had woken up early was bending over in a posture that was about to fall, pressing his camera to the face of a hydrangea.

The usual “cooing” of the pigeons could not be heard. Only the unpleasant cawing of the crows could still be heard from time to time.

“The first time I saw her, she was a young girl, eating a convenience store sandwich on the side of the road, with two instrument cases by her feet.

“The last time I went to the cram school for my part-time job, she was playing on the street late at night. Out of a resonance of being forced by life, I reached out to help her with her instrument case, but she was very resistant.

“At that time, I thought that the instrument case contained the money she had worked so hard to save. It wasn’t until I saw her in Chiba yesterday that I was sure that she was Michiko, and the other instrument case should contain the Genjo Biwa.”

“Why did you hide it from Himemiya Izayoi?” Compared to the matter of Yanagi Michiko, Kamibayashi Miko asked this question first.

“To break the barrier between people. If it’s limited to official cultivators, I don’t like it. It’s too shallow.”

“Official cultivators are one thing, but the people of Shintoism are all driven by selfish desires,” Kamibayashi Miko turned to look at Minamoto Kiyomoto. “Do you know how difficult this is?”

“There are always more solutions than difficulties,” Minamoto Kiyomoto replied. “The ninth group has two purposes: one, to protect their families; two, to not want to risk their lives to subjugate yokai. For such people, if we have the right to change the rules, it will be easy to win them over.”

“But you don’t have that right now, and neither do I.”

“Itomi Sayaka cares a lot about her sister.”

Kamibayashi Miko stopped, and Minamoto Kiyomoto also stopped.

The two of them held their umbrellas and looked at each other in the rain.

“Why are you looking at me with such disgust?” Minamoto Kiyomoto said. “I will use her sister to threaten her, but I won’t really do anything to her sister.”

Kamibayashi Miko withdrew her gaze and continued to walk forward.

In the long rainy season, other flowers would be drowned, but the more rainwater the hydrangeas received, the more vibrant they became.

Arriving at the station, they took the descending escalator to the station platform.

The pillars on the platform had recently been painted green, like matcha-flavored roll cakes.

Ten minutes passed. Minamoto Kiyomoto waited for Kamibayashi Miko to speak, but she did not.

In front of the platform, he tilted his head and glanced at her with confusion, then Kamibayashi Miko showed a sneer that said, ‘Don’t think you can guess my words and actions’.

Minamoto Kiyomoto said as if reciting the Bible, “I like women with beautiful legs. When all other conditions are roughly equal, a bad woman fascinates me more.”

He continued:
“Some women occasionally show a cruel expression. I like this kind of expression the most. As soon as I see a woman with this kind of expression, I feel my heart beat faster.”

The train rumbled into the station. Minamoto Kiyomoto’s words were also like a train, crashing into Kamibayashi Miko’s worldview.

She hugged the textbook in her hand and took a step back. The umbrella in her hand, dripping with rainwater, was already ready to use “Shinto-ryu.”

“But even if she’s a bad woman,” Minamoto Kiyomoto was still saying, “she can’t be bad to the bone. The worse she is, the smarter she must be.”

“That’s enough,” Kamibayashi Miko interrupted him.

“I read all of this in a book. I definitely didn’t say it—I can’t say such concise and incisive words.”

Kamibayashi Miko’s face was full of disbelief. She walked into the train with Minamoto Kiyomoto.

“Let’s continue talking about the ninth group,” she said. “Before you made your decision, you didn’t seem to ask me if I supported it, did you?”

“Don’t you support me?” Minamoto Kiyomoto asked back.

As he spoke, Kamibayashi Miko sat in the seat closest to the door. Minamoto Kiyomoto sat half a meter away from her.

The urban woman opposite, who had been looking down at her phone, subconsciously looked up at the two of them, then looked up a second time, as if to confirm, and her third look was a little shy.

And the men in the train had long been looking at Kamibayashi Miko intentionally or unintentionally.

“If it’s really to break the barrier and reduce casualties, of course I support it. But if it’s for power or something…”

“Kill me?”

“Silly child, how could I kill you?” Kamibayashi Miko’s tone was gentle. “From the moment I spoke to you in the library, you have been a curse on me. If you die, there’s no meaning for me to live—I’ll just lock you up in the shrine forever.”

“That’s not so bad.”

“You can only grow vegetables, clean, and even grind your own miso every day. No phone, no movies, no games. Is that kind of life okay?”

“Isn’t there still you? I don’t hate Shirako and the little butterfly either. They’re both very cute.”

The train rumbled forward, and the rain fell as if to block its progress.

“Next stop, Todai-mae, Todai-mae.”

The two of them left the station and walked along the campus wall.

The green shade above their heads blocked some of the rain. Along the way, there were students who were also going to class.

“Then why hide it from Himemiya Izayoi? Doesn’t she also want to break the barrier and vainly attempt to unify Japan?”

“Vainly attempt? It seems you don’t think she can do it.” Minamoto Kiyomoto laughed twice.

After that, he explained:

“I had already killed one person from the ninth group. Itomi Sayaka was very angry and even rushed to the ‘Romancecar.’ If I kill Michiko again, even with the Itomi family, it will be difficult to form an alliance, and we can’t really make a move on the Itomi family.”

“Is that all?”

“There are also two small selfish reasons. Can I not say them?”

“No,” Kamibayashi Miko’s tone was unhesitating, revealing a natural air of authority.

“You’re so strict. Then I’ll just say one,” Minamoto Kiyomoto’s voice was leisurely. “Didn’t the person who contacted Yuka say that Yanagi Michiko could make the ninth group’s strength rank fifth in Shintoism? The stronger the ninth group, the greater their say in Shintoism, and the more beneficial it is to us.”

“On June 20th, we’re not going to kill people, but to negotiate?”

“We still have to fight.”

The two of them walked into the campus from the Akamon Gate. Minamoto Kiyomoto said to himself, “I wonder if I can learn the two divine thunders of Shintoism through Itomi Sayaka.”

“Is this your other selfish reason?” Kamibayashi Miko asked.

“Hmm?” Minamoto Kiyomoto was stunned for a moment, then replied, “No, but it could be.”

Kamibayashi Miko had already said her five sentences. The two of them walked to the Faculty of Letters as if they were taking a stroll.

“Miss Kamibayashi, see you at noon. Ah, I really don’t want to go to class,” Minamoto Kiyomoto continued to walk forward alone, reluctantly walking towards the medical department behind the Faculty of Letters.

(End of Chapter)