Over mountains, across valleys, and beyond numerous passes, the town finally appeared.
"Tsukimidai."
An old post town spread across a mortar-shaped basin. Houses with black tiled roofs were layered in multiple rows along the mountain slopes, arranged like terraced fields. At twilight. Lights began to flicker in the windows, reflecting on the surface of the lake.
"It's lively here," Asahi said. From the top of the pass, the town looked full of vitality. The sound of cart wheels striking the cobblestones as they traveled along the highway. The whinnying of horses. The calls of merchants. The scent of cooking drifted on the wind—the smell of scorched soy sauce and the savory smoke of grilled fish.
"...Yeah," Koyoi narrowed his eyes against the brightness. It had been a long time since they had been in a human settlement. For someone who had been chased by Observers and walked only through deserted forests and wastelands, the heat radiating from human life felt slightly too intense. A sense of relief at the crowd, mixed with the discomfort of being an outsider.
He could feel the wind god in his pouch shifting uneasily.
"Let's go. We need to restock our medicine and food. And I want to gather some information," Asahi said, leading the way. Koyoi followed, clutching the pouch tightly. As they entered the town, shops lined both sides of the street. Inns, teahouses, antique shops, drapers. Colorful curtains swayed in the shopfronts, and the continuous chatter of people echoed. Townspeople in kimonos, peddlers in travel gear, pilgrims in straw hats. Among the various people, Koyoi walked while keeping a sharp eye on his surroundings. In a place with so many people, the eyes of the Observers might be hidden.
Every time he met someone's eyes, a chill ran down his spine. Was someone watching from the shadows of an alley? He felt as though he might be possessed by such delusions. But Asahi was there. He carried his sword on his back and walked with confidence. There was no hesitation in his step.
"Here it is."
Asahi stopped at an old shop in a back alley, one street away from the busy main road. A sign with the character for Medicine was weathered, the letters faded by wind and rain. The sliding door was halfway open, and a unique scent drifted from within. The smell of dried grass. The bitter smell of decocted roots. Somewhere, the scent of sweet fruit.
The shop was dim inside. Bundles of hay hanging from the ceiling blocked the view like curtains. The walls were lined with shelves packed with countless jars and wooden boxes. Labels like Charred Pit Viper, Dragon's Beard, and Universal Ointment were pasted on them, but they all looked suspicious.
"Excuse me," Asahi called out. An old woman emerged from the back. Her back was bent into a "V" shape, and her face was covered in deep wrinkles. Her kimono was full of patches but was cleanly washed. Her eyes were as clear as a child's, harboring a mischievous light as if she were appraising the visitors.
"Well now, young guests, aren't you?" the old woman laughed in a hoarse voice. The wrinkles on her face deepened even further. "Medicine for the road? Or medicine for the heart?"
"I need wound medicine and an antitoxin. And some pills for stamina," Asahi ordered in a practiced tone. Koyoi looked around the shop while listening to the exchange. There were many mysterious things. Dried snakes. A giant pine cone. A stone that glowed with iridescent light. Were these truly medicines? Or were they tools for charms?
In the corner of a dusty shelf, there were old books and a rusted scale. Suddenly, his eyes were drawn to a small shelf with a glass door in the furthest corner of the shop. The air there felt different. Quiet, cold, and tense. There was no dust. Beyond the polished glass, something was enshrined. As if drawn to it, he approached. Inside the shelf, raw silk was spread out, and upon it rested a single "sphere."
It was an eyeball. A prosthetic eye made of glass—vidro. It was as large as a child's fist. Within the highly transparent glass, a blue iris was intricately depicted. It looked like a real eye, yet it was a glass sphere.
"...Beautiful," Koyoi murmured. Though it should have been eerie, he couldn't look away. The glass pupil was a deep blue that seemed to go on forever. At that moment.
He felt a gaze. It wasn't that Koyoi was looking. The glass pupil was looking at Koyoi.
...Look.
A voice was heard. A voice that echoed directly in his head, not his ears. Though it was hard and clear, it was somehow lonely.
...Look at me.
Koyoi caught his breath. The pouch trembled slightly. The wind god, who had been sleeping inside, had woken up in response to the presence. It was a god. Within this glass, a god resided.
...I've been waiting.
...I've been waiting for you to come.
He felt the glass pupil glint faintly. Reflecting the dim light of the shop, a streak of blue light stroked Koyoi's face. A cold sensation. Unconsciously, Koyoi reached out.
Just as he was about to touch the glass door.
"...Hey."
A cold voice flew at him from the side. A voice with the sharpness of an ice blade.
"Don't touch it."
Startled, he pulled his hand back. He turned to find a boy standing there, as if he had emerged from the shadows at the back of the shop. He looked to be about the same age as Koyoi. His features were well-defined, but his expression was thin. Cold as a Noh mask. The clothes he wore were different from the local children—plain, gray garments. And more than anything, his eyes caught the attention.
His left eye was the same color as the glass pupil. A clear, glass-like blue. A lifeless, artificial beauty. His right eye was a normal dark brown, but his left eye alone emitted an alien radiance.
It was a glass eye. The same thing as what was in the shelf had been implanted there.
"...It's not for sale," the boy said matter-of-factly. He wasn't glaring at Koyoi. He was simply observing him. With eyes that watched an experimental animal.
"It's the shop's guardian deity. Strangers shouldn't touch it so lightly."
"...S-sorry."
Koyoi backed away. The boy's eyes were frightening. He wasn't angry. He was just devoid of emotion.
"Kuon, that's no way to treat a guest," the old woman said, finishing her business with Asahi and looking over. Her tone was troubled, yet practiced. "He's my grandson. He can be a bit unfriendly. ...Go on, Kuon, at least say hello."
The boy called Kuon snorted. As if he hadn't heard the old woman's words, he didn't take his eyes off Koyoi.
"He's not a guest. ...He's a 'Carrier'."
At those words, Koyoi's heart leaped. Carrier. He meant a Collector. This boy had realized it. He knew what was in the pouch. Kuon stared at the pouch on Koyoi's waist. His left eye seemed to rotate slightly. Something was moving deep within the pupil.
"The contents are leaking out. ...Make sure you keep the lid tight."
"What...?"
"I can smell it. The scent of divine energy."
With that, Kuon vanished into the back of the shop. Again, there were no footsteps.
"...Let's go, Koyoi," Asahi tapped Koyoi's shoulder. His expression was grim. He, too, must have sensed Kuon's abnormality. His instinct as a swordsman was signaling an alert.
"...Yeah."
As he left the shop, Koyoi looked back at the shelf one last time. The glass pupil was steadily watching him go.
...Save me.
A faint voice heard at the very end. Perhaps it was the scream of the glass god. The cry of a lonely soul trapped in a glass cage. Stepping outside, the setting sun stained the town red.
Deep within his chest, Koyoi felt the omen of an ominous night.
Following the events of Episode 066, "Analysis of the Pale Blue Light," as the night air settled, the three confirmed their decisions one by one. Koyoi consciously separated the established facts from the pending information in his ledger. Kuon adjusted the endings and sequence of his words to ensure that the interpretation would not stray, even if the reader changed. Asahi solidified the defense by placing himself where he would not only watch the front but also eliminate the blind spots. Sharing the results of their inspection, the three moved on to the next process without letting their hesitation linger.