Akisumi

  “So this is the cave where they say the Darkness appears, huh?”

  The owner spoke with excitement.

  He’s an adult, but somehow he feels younger than me.

  “It’s not just a rumor. There have been actual sightings of the Darkness entering and exiting this sacred place. Please don’t talk about it like it’s a ghost story.”

  According to legend, this cave was once a secret meeting place for the Darkness and their disciples.

  In fact, the school buildings were constructed with this cave as the central point.

  “What’s it like inside? I mean, the cave only goes about five meters in before it hits a dead end, right?”

  The owner’s curiosity knew no bounds.

  Realistically, there’s no way a full-blown cave would exist in the middle of a school campus.

  Behind it is a giant black stone slab, at least ten meters tall.

  The slab is clearly man-made.

  Only this cave has been preserved in its original form.

  “No one knows,” Tsurubami said.

  “What? You believe in it without even knowing? What if this is actually the passage to the underground? It’s the most suspicious spot by far.”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  I had to admit, I agreed with that.

  Since the place is considered sacred, no one dares go deeper.

  Even if it did lead underground, I wouldn’t be surprised.

  “How can you say that? I passed out inside the cathedral, remember.”

  For once, there was a hint of anger in Tsurubami’s voice.

  Of course—he’s far more devout than I am.

  That’s why he was trusted with the important task of playing the pipe organ during morning services.

  “...Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m still a newbie when it comes to this faith.

  I mean, I sometimes imagine what the Darkness might look like, y’know?”

  “It appears in the shadows. No one has ever seen its true form.”

  “Then maybe it doesn’t even exist.”

  “...”

  The idea that the owner might actually be a black-clad heretic started to seem less far-fetched.

  Then—

  “Huh? Something just flashed,” the owner said, swinging his flashlight around the cave.

  “Please don’t! That’s completely disrespectful!”

  Tsurubami rushed to stop him.

  But I thought I saw it too—

  a tiny flicker of golden light.

  “Let’s go in,” the owner said.

  He stepped toward the cave, crossing the simple rope that served as a “barrier” more in theory than in practice.

  “Absolutely not. You’ll fall into hell,” Tsurubami snapped.

  “You fell underground, didn’t you?”

  “Don’t joke about that.”

  The two of them started bickering.

  I felt bad for Tsurubami, but… I was curious about that light too.

  Was it some kind of signal? A sign?

  But if I went in now, Tsurubami might never speak to me again—

  and we’d only just started getting closer.

  “Let’s ask my brother and Mr. White!”

  I said it a bit too loudly. Both of them turned to look at me.

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea,” the owner nodded.

  “Your brother’s with the Health Bureau, and Mr. White is a pastor underground.

  They might figure out a way to investigate without disrespecting the Darkness.”

  Tsurubami gave me a smile.

  That alone made me feel like I’d done the right thing.

  —Tsurubami is my own personal Darkness.

  “Well, I’m curious, but… guess we have no choice.”

  The owner sighed and began walking slowly back toward the cathedral.

  And also… I need to talk about something.

  It’s called “I.”

  “ore,” “boku,” “watashi,” each with its own tone, gender, social level, emotional distance.

  But in English? Just I.

  Always capitalized. Always loud. Always center stage.

  Sometimes the moment isn’t about you.

  Let the story breathe a little.

  know that in Japanese, they absolutely don’t.

  Even when I have to wrestle “I” into the background.