The guitar case I'd brought along was something I found in a dumpster.
At first, I thought it was just trash and passed it by, but then I realized I could make use of it, so I took it home and modified it myself.
I lined the inside with Styrofoam insulation, like an ice chest. It was for long-term meat storage. Then I added a layer of plastic sheeting and sealed it tightly so no blood or smell could escape.
Usually I'd get by with just one arm and one leg, but after last time I knew Eto needed more meat.
This time I stuffed one arm, two legs, and some liver and intestines into the guitar case until it was completely full.
With the dismemberment done, I moved the remaining carcass to a sunny spot and buried it, placing a few stones on top in lieu of a headstone.
I clasped my hands in front of it and said a prayer.
"I will make proper use of the body you discarded."
With my prayer finished, I checked the time on my phone.
5:40 a.m. I was closer to the mountains than the city, so I couldn't see the sun, but the sky was brightening. Dawn was breaking.
Given how much work remained before Eto woke up, I'd wasted too much time.
I hurriedly shoved my tools into the guitar case, slung it over my shoulder—and winced.
"Ugh…"
It was so heavy I almost fell over.
Of course—given how much meat I'd collected this time, it was bound to be. Just the meat in the case easily weighed more than half an adult man's body weight.
I dragged myself up the hill and finally reached the spot where I'd parked my bike.
Thanks to the guitar case, the bike felt unusually heavy, and I had worried I wouldn't be able to ride it, but surprisingly I was able to pedal forward without much trouble.
However, I decided to avoid uphill routes. There was no way I'd make it without collapsing.
I double-checked the map for a route that steered clear of climbs and set off that way.
Once I left the cliffside mountain path and headed toward town, the light grew stronger.
Maybe it was relief at escaping a night filled with death, or perhaps just sheer sleep deprivation—maybe even the effect of the meds I'd taken earlier.
I was pedaling hard, eager to get home when a voice stopped me.
"Excuse me for a moment."
"Huh? Oh…?!"
I slammed on the brakes and stopped, cursing my carelessness.
Here I was, transporting a top-tier hazardous material on my back—and I hadn't been keeping watch.
Of all the roads I could have taken, I'd ended up right where a police car was conducting a stop-and-search. I'd only noticed when I was practically on top of them.
"It's still dark this early. It's dangerous to ride without your light on."
"Ah, right. I'll be more careful."
I assumed that was just a warning about my headlamp. The officer didn't seem intent on detaining me, so I thought I could talk my way out of it quickly, but then he asked another question.
"May I ask where you're coming from?"
"Why do you need to know that?"
"…"
Oops. What was I thinking?
If I gave off the vibe that I didn't want to answer, I'd look even more suspicious.
I'd snapped at him, and the middle-aged officer's brow furrowed in suspicion.
I couldn't take back what I'd said. I needed something to smooth this over—fast.
"Ah, sorry. I was up all night on band practice, so I'm a bit on edge. May I ask why you're asking?"
I tried to put on a friendly face, but it probably looked forced. The officer's expression didn't improve. A younger cop who was stopping passing cars approached, clearly picking up on the odd tension.
"There was a murder nearby."
The officer answered without removing his curious look.
"A murder?"
"Yes. It's not confirmed yet, but parts of the victim's body are missing. It could be the work of a ghoul, but it might also be a revenge killing disguised as a ghoul incident, so we're investigating."
Great. This was not going in my favor.
If they found the human flesh in my guitar case, I'd be pinned as the killer—whether it was a ghoul or a human didn't matter.
"Our investigation suggests that if the perpetrator is human, they'd still be transporting the missing body parts, so… could you show me your guitar case for a moment?"
The officer reached out, giving me a look that said, "You have nothing to hide, right?"
I felt like cursing fate itself.
I messed up.
I exhaled heavily, my lungs burning.
All my excuses to avoid showing the case had only made the cops more suspicious.
In the end, I had no choice but to go on the offensive.
I told them I'd show them the case, lured the two officers in close—and then…
"I never thought I'd have to use this…"
I stared at the small water balloon I'd been twirling in my hand.
Inside it was a homemade paint bomb: watercolors mixed with corn syrup, ammonia, and other chemicals.
Spray it on someone's face, and the stench would coat them, blinding them for a while.
Pretending to hand over the case, I brought the balloon up to their faces and popped it.
As the strange liquid splattered over them and they shrieked, I leapt onto my bike and pedaled away as fast as I could.
I sped along the main road until I could slip into a narrow alley away from prying eyes and kept running.
Now I was standing on that iron bridge—where suicides were said to congregate—about to ditch my bike into the river.
The officers had memorized my face and the bike's frame. It was too risky to bring it home.
It was a shame, but safer to get rid of it. I'd have to dispose of the guitar case later, too.
As for my face… I'd figure that out later. Once they caught the real culprit, they'd forget some weird stranger's face.
With that, I tossed the bike off the bridge, hailed a passing taxi, and headed home in a flash.
"Haah…"
Dismembering a corpse was hard labor that drained every ounce of energy. Chasing cops at dawn left my body and mind in shambles.
Leaning against the elevator wall to ease the weight of the case, I stared blankly at the red numbers climbing above me.
Suddenly the numbers warped into the corpse of that woman, her lifeless eyes staring at me from the riverbank…
"Ugh…!"
The forgotten sense of the area surged back, and I pressed a hand over my mouth.
Damn it, if I let my guard down, this is what happens. And I'd taken two pills, too…
When the elevator doors slid open, I pressed myself against the wall and shuffled slowly toward home.
I unlocked the front door and stepped inside, greeted by the familiar smell of home that washed away any lingering stench of death.
I turned my gaze to the futon where Eto was still sleeping. Seeing her brought the first relief I'd felt all morning.
With a thud, my knees gave out even before I passed through the entryway. I must have been too relieved.
"Hey, what are you doing? Snap out of it. You've still got work to do."
I snapped myself awake and dragged myself toward the bathroom.
Shhhhhh…
Turning on the shower, I dumped the chunks of human meat from the case onto the floor of the tub.
Blood ran down the tiles, staining the bathroom floor bright red.
After that, I barely remember what happened.
I just mechanically moved the saw, separating bone from flesh, then wrapped the pieces in plastic over and over.
My skill was rough, and some flesh stuck to the bones, so I piled those together, wrapped them in a towel…
Thud! Thud!
With each strike, I felt the bones inside the towel crumble.
Once they were suitably crushed, I put the pieces in a plastic box and, alongside the packaged meat, hid them in a corner of the fridge.
It was done.
This completed the procurement operation.
With a thud, I collapsed onto the cold kitchen floor as soon as I closed the fridge door.
I wanted to just pass out and sleep right there. As I whispered to myself to close my eyes and rest, another voice stopped me.
"Hey, idiot. What about Eto?"
Bingo.
You idiot, you almost messed up again in your haze.
If Eto came in and found me collapsed in the kitchen, she'd freak out.
Besides, I still smelled faintly of death. Eto, with her keen sense of smell, would know what I'd done and why I was a wreck.
And she'd lie about her meals again to keep me from overdoing it. It'd be nice if kids acted like, you know, kids for once.
I stripped off the terrible, sweat-and-blood-stained clothes and threw them in the wash.
Then I stepped into the shower again, washing away every last bloodstain on my body.
I sprayed fragrant air freshener everywhere to kill the smell.
After I got out and shook off the water, there was no fresh feeling—only a desperate need to rest.
I crawled next to Eto's futon, didn't even bother with a blanket, and buried my face in the pillow.
Okay, let's go. Tomorrow I'll call in sick and just sleep all day.
As I was welcoming sleep with open arms, I heard a voice.
"Daddy…"
Startled, I told myself I'd take her words later and turned to look at Eto.
When did she wake up? Her eyes, which were closed when I came in, were now fixed on me. They looked on the verge of tears.
"It's okay if I get a little hungry. So you don't have to go through so much trouble."
…
In that childlike way, full of unspoken weight, Eto spoke.
I stared at her for a moment, then let out a short laugh.
"My Eto's all grown up. Worrying about Daddy."
I ruffled her hair and continued.
"All I care about is that you eat well and grow strong."
"But…"
Eto looked unconvinced.
I wanted to say something more reassuring, but… I couldn't. I was on the brink of passing out.
I needed a way to calm her and let myself rest.
"Then why don't you comfort your old man?"
"Huh?"
Swoosh!
I flung my arms wide and hugged Eto. Her warmth spread through me like a balm for my battered mind.
She was squeezed into my chest so tight I couldn't see her face, but she must have been surprised—her body was stiff.
"Let's just sleep like this."
"Okay…"
I couldn't see her expression, but through her hair I saw her ears glowing redder than usual. Huh, guess it worked?
I decided to deal with that later and closed my eyes.
At that moment, the darkness in the corner of the room warped, and the vision of the woman's corpse I'd seen in the elevator glared at me.
The eyes full of death stared with contempt at me cradling a ghoul.
I raised my middle finger at that apparition.
"Get lost. I'm busy healing."