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Haruka Sasaki looked at the people around him.

No, to be precise, these are not people.

Yes.

Whether it's the fierce scar man.

It's still a down-and-out man in an old suit.

Or a poet who speaks haiku of unknown meaning.

All are spirits.

It's just that, somewhat unexpectedly Haruka Sasaki, these are not resentful spirits.

It is the spirit of a simple person after death.

There is not a bit of pollution.

This phenomenon is a little too weird, and Haruka Sasaki even forgot to be afraid.

"Josan ?"

A curious Sasaki Haruka looked at Qiao Qiao, trying to find an answer.

"Wait."

Qiao Qiao picked up the cup and took a sip of juice.

"Miura-san, are you going to fight again?"

"Cut, I taught a few guys who don't know the height of the sky."

"Swinging fists, blood and tears raining down, Mogami River."

As if they hadn't noticed Qiao Qiao, they chatted with each other, chatting with Grandma Sakurai from time to time, and they looked very familiar.

Qiao Qiao was holding his mobile phone and seemed to be browsing something.

Asano Riko enjoys the skewers and doesn't care about the appearance of the undead around her.

Looking at this group of undead who are quite alive, and the two leisurely soul slayer companions around them.

Haruka Sasaki suddenly had a feeling of transcending reality.

Am I really doing a removal?

According to Qiao San's character, shouldn't he have started blowing things up at this time?

In a daze, the wind chimes at the door rang again.

A man walked into the store.

He looked quite kind, with a gentle face line, and he was dressed in clothes that were quite similar to the sixties and seventies of the last world, and as soon as he walked into the store, the discussion of the other people stopped.

"What do you want to eat today?"

When Grandma Sakurai saw the man, the lines of her eyes softened a lot.

"No, not today."

The man sat down next to Haruka Sasaki.

This is also the Spirit.

"Okay."

Grandma Sakurai still has a faint smile between her eyebrows, as if she can be happy just by looking at him.

Haruka Sasaki couldn't help but glance at the man.

"Is it a child you don't know?"

The man asked with a smile.

"Uh, I'm Haruka Sasaki from Shimogamo Shrine."

Haruka Sasaki didn't know why, so he subconsciously reported his name.

Obviously, when faced with weird related events, this is not right.

But in this tavern, there is an incredible power that makes Haruka Sasaki relax.

It's like coming back to your own home.

"Shimogamo Shrine, it's really nostalgic."

The man smiled, and instead of continuing to talk to Haruka Sasaki, he began to talk to the spirits.

The topic is nothing more than some everyday trifles.

It's as if everyone hasn't passed away yet, and everything is as if they were alive.

"Qiao San, let's just sit here, doesn't it matter?"

Haruka Sasaki asked in a whisper.

"You can see the flow of spiritual power in the air."

Qiao Qiao did not answer Haruka Sasaki's question, but asked her to look around carefully.

Sasaki Haruka turned on his vision and looked at it carefully.

Soon, she figured out what the problem was.

Grandma Sakurai, who was entangled in the yin qi, the yin qi on her body was flowing to the spirits in the store little by little.

Because of the excessive amount of yin energy, ordinary spirits will become resentful spirits, so those spirits did not overabsorb it, and only slowly stripped the yin energy from Grandma Sakurai.

Trying to weaken the influence of Yin Qi on Grandma Sakurai.

But even so.

The yin qi wrapped around Grandma Sakurai's body was still too heavy.

These spirits alone are not enough.

The worst result is that Grandma Sakurai died of illness due to Yin Qi, and these spirits have also become evil spirits due to their long-term contamination with Yin Qi.

"Why is that?"

Haruka Sasaki asked curiously.

At this moment.

The focus on this bizarre spectacle had transcended the fear of the strange and occupied her heart.

"Look at this."

Qiao Qiao pushed the phone to Haruka Sasaki, and on it, there were some photos that she was somewhat familiar with.

This is some information from the police.

"Taro Miura, although he looks like a gangster, is actually a boatman at the Kamogawa Pier, who often helps juniors, and the wound on his face was made at work to save a colleague who made a mistake, and later was stabbed to death by a robber at the age of forty in order to help a woman who was robbed."

"Yohei Sugiyama, a policeman in Pontocho, who has been in charge of this area for twenty years, and is known as everyone's good gentleman Sugiyama, was accidentally injured and died in a fight to stop the underworld, and that was thirty years ago."

"Muraki Renji, a bard who lives in no fixed place, there is not much information about it, except that he died at the age of thirty trying to save a child who fell into the water, and was buried in the cemetery after his death."

These dead people are all people who are sitting in the store at the moment.

Haruka Sasaki was silent for a long time after reading it.

"That"

The man next to her.

The man still had a soft smile.

Over the man's shoulder.

Haruka Sasaki saw the incense that was offered.

Behind the incense burner, is a black-and-white photograph.

In the photo, it's a young man.

The young man, who looked exactly like the man next to Haruka Sasaki.

"Kuro Sakurai"

Haruka Sasaki couldn't help but blurt out.

Yes, this man is none other than the father of the client, Mr. Makoto Sakurai, who died in an accident decades ago.

The real owner of this izakaya "Mountain Lotus Leaf".

"Has it been discovered?"

Sakurai smiled.

"Obviously Xiaochun's kid can't be recognized, haha, is my dress not right?"

The Koharu he said should be the daughter of Mr. Makoto Sakurai and his granddaughter.

"I've said you're dressed too old-fashioned."

Grandma Sakurai smiled and complained.

"But it can't be helped, it's the clothes we wore when we first met."

Sakurai still had that heartless smile.

Haruka Sasaki was stunned for a moment.

"Aren't you supposed to have been dead for a long time?"

For such a long time, there could be no normal spirits.

This goes against the common sense that Haruka Sasaki learned to remove spirits.

"Well, we don't know."

Yohei Sugiyama, a former police officer, touched his chin and said.

"Probably because I heard that Junko was having trouble, so we all ran back from hell."

Taro Miura took a sip of wine and said with a grin.

"The old man called, in hell, I will also return, the most upstream."

The poet Mura Murenji chanted softly.

"After all, everyone likes Junko."

Sakurai said with a smile.

Haruka Sasaki did not study spiritism.

But at this moment, in this spirit-to-spirit izakaya.

She seemed to see something.

It was the time of the Oiran parade, and that distant glimpse of the sky.

It's a sixteen-year-old who meets you under the falling cherry blossom trees.

It is white and hatori, in the front hall of the lower duck shrine, a shy wine cup.

In the izakaya, all kinds of laughter and tears, encounters and partings.

Rainy days, the last to meet.

When you are alone, you can help from everyone.

Friends who have left one by one, in the dripping rain, are always a light for someone.

Haruka Sasaki understood.

To these people, to these spirits.

It's not an izakaya at all.

It's a destination.

It's home.

It is a place where you can stay at any time and have loved ones waiting.

Coming back from hell or something, it doesn't exist at all.

These spirits, from beginning to end, have always been here.

Guarding this Izakaya, guarding Grandma Sakurai and her children.

This is a miracle that is only theoretically possible.

But it is also the reality that does appear in front of Haruka Sasaki's eyes.

"It's rude."

While Haruka Sasaki was still in a trance, Qiao Qiao stood up, walked past Grandma Sakurai, and picked up a sculpture that was placed on the side of the kitchen counter.

That sculpture, in the eyes of Haruka Sasaki, who had turned on the spiritual vision, was full of indescribable evil, and it was entangled with a thick yin qi.

Bang –

Qiao Qiao didn't say much, took out his pistol, and shot the sculpture.

Fragile sculpture, torn apart.

At the same time, accompanied by an untraceable wail, the yin energy that entwined Grandma Sakurai dissipated.

"Thank you, thank you."

Sakurai Kuro bowed his head and said, because he was a spirit, he didn't seem to be able to perceive the existence of this sculpture, and he could only share the burden for his wife in the most primitive way.

Although Grandma Sakurai was taken aback by Qiao Qiao's actions, she quickly understood.

I don't know what kind of memory the destroyed statue is in her eyes?

"That's the end of it."

Instead of collecting the money, Qiao Qiao carefully collected the remains of the statue with a handkerchief, put it in an evidence bag, and walked out of the izakaya.

It won't be long before the spirits that accompany Grandma Sakurai will gradually disappear.

Originally, it was a guardian spirit-like existence that was only manifested because of the sudden change in yin qi.

Before leaving the izakaya, Haruka Sasaki took a look inside.

Grandma Sakurai and Sakurai Kuro, one is old and the other is young, but the two are snuggled up to each other without the slightest idea of separation.

On the wall behind them, hung an old, yellowed, faded photograph.

Above it is a brand new "mountain lotus leaf" and everyone with a smile on their faces.

"Hold the hand of the son, grow old with the son."

Beside him, Asako Asano said suddenly.

"Is that what you mean?"

She was a little surprised, for the fifteen-year-old, this poem from a thousand years ago was still too heavy.

Haruka Sasaki didn't know either.

It's still raining.

The bonsai at the entrance of the izakaya bloomed at some point.

It is a flower that has been soaked in rain and has transparent petals.

Even if there is no color, it still blooms at night, and it is beautiful to be dyed by the neon of the city.

Sasaki Haruka felt something in his heart, and suddenly remembered the flower.

As the name suggests of the izakaya store, mountain lotus leaves.

Snow-white petals lose their color and become transparent when they encounter water.

Wildflowers bloom in the mountains in late spring and early summer.

The language of flowers is, affection.

At such a moment, it bloomed awe-inspiringly.

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