'What are you?'
The Slit-Mouthed Woman had never encountered anything like this before.
What was exposed beneath the dim light was not human skin — it was raw, vivid red muscle fiber.
Like a flayed anatomy model left bare to the open air, the muscles rose and fell with each breath, the ribcage silhouette sharply defined, the individual muscle bundles gleaming with an eerie sheen under the streetlamp.
This was something that belonged in a medical laboratory display case — not a living, walking, talking person.
'Why won't you answer? Am I pretty?'
Mrs. Kawabe stepped closer to the Slit-Mouthed Woman, her voice growing more insistent and demanding.
'Can you see it clearly? These lines, this texture! I've put my body completely on display for you — why won't you answer me?'
The Slit-Mouthed Woman's pupils trembled violently. That hideous, gaping mouth twitched and convulsed, unable to squeeze out a single word.
She had hunted countless victims. The routine was carved into her very instincts — no matter what unexpected turn a situation took, she could always recover quickly.
But she had never, not once, encountered anything like this.
Compared to the woman standing before her — who on earth was the real monster here?
Before the Slit-Mouthed Woman could gather her wits, Mrs. Kawabe had already sunk completely into her own private world. She ran her hand slowly across the naked musculature of her bare chest, as though caressing the most precious silk in existence, her voice burning with fanatical rapture.
'Look at this! This is true beauty! Supreme, overflowing with vitality — the most primal, most authentic kind of beauty there is! No matter how hard an ordinary person trains, their muscles could never compare to something like this. Doesn't it seem like such a waste, to have a body this beautiful smothered under skin, hidden away from the world?'
Like a preacher mid-sermon, the skinless woman grew more and more fervent with every word. She raised both arms and demonstrated for the Slit-Mouthed Woman the full contraction of her muscle bundles.
'She's insane…!'
The Slit-Mouthed Woman felt the world go black at the edges of her vision. She at least had some self-awareness about being a grotesque freak — but the woman in front of her was a grotesque freak with absolutely zero self-awareness.
The Kawabe household.
The hands of the wall clock had crept past ten past ten.
Having waited in vain for Mrs. Kawabe to return, Amamiya Rin let out a yawn, lifted his barley tea for a sip, and rubbed his bleary, burning eyes.
Kawabe Mayo sat across from him, her head slowly drooping in a drowsy nod. Riki in her arms had given up the fight long ago — he'd slumped sideways, fast asleep, his small mouth hanging slightly open.
'It looks like your sister isn't coming back tonight.'
Amamiya Rin braced his hands on his knees and pushed himself to his feet. His joints gave a faint, soft crack.
Kawabe Mayo startled awake at the movement, her head snapping up, her gaze still a little hazy.
'Ah… you're leaving?'
She hastily glanced at the clock, and a look of guilty embarrassment crept across her face.
'I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting this long. My sister… she's usually back around this time.'
Her voice grew quieter with each word. Even she could tell something was off. Her brow knitted unconsciously, and a shadow of worry crossed her expression.
Her sister had gone out after removing her skin. If she stayed out of it for too long, the body would gradually lose moisture and eventually dry into a mummy.
So no matter how obsessed her sister was with the beauty of raw muscle, she would always come home in time to put her skin back on.
Kawabe Mayo's expression turned uneasy. What worried her most now was the thought that her sister might have gone out to frighten people and gotten herself caught by someone with nerve enough to grab her.
'I'll go out and look for her. Let's swap phone numbers — if she comes back, call me right away.'
Amamiya Rin's expression grew slightly grave. He didn't know the specifics of what happened when skin and flesh were separated for too long, but in this world, an unexpected delay always meant something was wrong.
After all, Japan was absolutely crawling with urban legends and supernatural horrors — shows like Haunted Night Theater, Spine-Chilling Ghost Encounters, Kaidan Shin Mimibukuro, horror stories cranked out season after season. There was every chance Mrs. Kawabe had stumbled into some kind of supernatural incident during her nighttime wandering.
If she got herself killed, that was her own business — but dragging the innocent Kawabe Mayo and Riki into it would be a different matter entirely.
'I'm really so sorry, making you go out to look for someone at this hour…'
Kawabe Mayo quickly and carefully set Riki down on the sofa, stood up, and pulled out her phone, her face written over with apology and anxiety.
'If you're going to help someone, see it through to the end. A job worth doing is worth finishing right.'
Amamiya Rin took out his own phone, exchanged numbers with Kawabe Mayo, then gripped his walking stick and stood. He shook out his legs, which had gone somewhat numb.
He pushed open the gate of the Kawabe yard. The night wind came with a chill that brushed against his face and sharpened his senses a little.
He retraced his earlier route at a steady pace, keeping a careful eye on his surroundings. At this hour, the streets of Shimokitazawa were already quite deserted — the glow of the streetlamps hung lonely in the dark.
Amamiya Rin thought it through carefully. Mrs. Kawabe, monster though she was, belonged to the weakest tier of them — even more fragile than an ordinary person, in some ways.
If she'd come out to frighten people, she'd most likely have chosen secluded, poorly lit back lanes.
With that in mind, he focused his attention on the narrow alleyways between buildings, watching for any sign of movement within.
After about ten minutes of walking, he turned a corner — and at the far end of another alley ahead, he dimly made out a figure in a long dark coat, standing in the shadow at the base of a wall.
She had herself bundled up completely from head to toe. It matched the description Kawabe Mayo had given him well enough.
Something stirred in Amamiya Rin's chest. He quickened his pace toward her.
His body had been tempered by a round of compression training, and his physical condition was no worse than that of a seasoned fitness enthusiast — even with a walking stick, he moved at a brisk and confident clip.
Apparently hearing the tap of the cane against the pavement, the woman in the shadows turned sideways and looked back over her shoulder. Her face was still too obscured to make out, but Amamiya Rin could feel it — something in that gaze carried a deeply unsettling quality.
Got her.
Amamiya Rin tightened his grip on the cane and readied himself — prepared to subdue Mrs. Kawabe on the spot and use Hypnosis to alter her state of mind.
But as he drew closer, he noticed something was wrong.
That's not right.
The woman in the coat across from him had the lower half of her face wrapped in a scarf — but the upper half that was exposed had skin on it. Normal skin.
Wrong person?
Amamiya Rin's steps slowed.
'Am I pretty?'
At that moment, the woman — who was clearly not Mrs. Kawabe — suddenly spoke. She stared at Amamiya Rin with a fixed, glassy gaze, her eyes carrying a stubborn, urgent edge, as though she were seeking confirmation of something, searching for something she desperately needed.
Amamiya Rin froze for just a beat.
What kind of question—
The thought hadn't finished forming before Amamiya Rin's pupils contracted sharply. His stride halted dead in its tracks. The hand gripping the middle of the cane clenched tight in an instant; the muscles of his arm tensed; his center of gravity sank just slightly as his body dropped instinctively into a combat-ready stance.
The situation before him had just triggered the memory of a very famous urban legend — the Slit-Mouthed Woman.
Amamiya Rin rapidly combed through everything he could recall about her.
A woman in a surgical mask with a mouth slit open to her ears. She stops passersby and asks if they find her pretty. If you say yes, she pulls down her mask and asks again — say yes again, and she cuts your mouth open to match hers. Say no, and she kills you outright.
The method of escape: say 'Pomade' three times in a row, and the Slit-Mouthed Woman will be driven off.
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