Chapter 128: Speedboating on the Sanzu River, Meeting Shiki
"And that's the gist of it," Haruto concluded, gesturing dismissively at the two spectral figures. "They're all yours now. Deal with them however you see fit; consider it a nice little boost to your performance record."
Having recounted the tale of the Death Game and the two Ghost Postmen, he tugged on Youmu's sleeve, ready to make a swift exit. Before he could take a single step, however, a hand shot out and snagged the hem of his clothes.
He glanced back. Onozuka Komachi was staring up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Haruto's eyebrow twitched in annoyance.
"What is it now?"
"You... you two have to come with me."
"No." Haruto's refusal was swift and absolute. He turned to his companion. "Youmu, what do you think?"
"I... I..." A flicker of hesitation crossed Youmu's face.
Before Haruto could refuse on her behalf, Komachi suddenly lunged forward, wrapping her arms around the half-phantom's leg in a desperate hug. Her voice was a sorrowful wail.
"Please, Youmu! You have to come with me!"
In the end, Youmu couldn't withstand Komachi's tear-filled, guilt-inducing pleas and reluctantly agreed. And since Haruto had no intention of leaving her to go off on her own, he found himself miserably trudging along as they were led to Komachi's ferry.
When they reached the riverbank, a dark wooden boat materialized from thin air. The hull was battered and worn, its planks groaning under their own weight. It looked as if it might splinter into a thousand pieces at any moment.
Haruto swallowed hard, his voice a weak croak. "Can I... apply for a different one?"
He had a sneaking suspicion this boat was an antique that had been in service since the Underworld was first established, making it far, far older than he was.
"Boats can only be replaced when they're broken," Komachi said, tossing her massive scythe onto the deck with a heavy thud. She hopped on first, sending ripples spreading across the murky water.
Youmu followed close behind. Seeing Haruto still hesitating on the shore, she opened her arms in a welcoming gesture.
"Haruto-sama, don't worry! I will catch you."
"No need." Haruto shook his head.
As a proper Boundary Youkai, what would become of his dignity if he needed someone to catch him just to board a boat?
Youmu hesitated for a moment before lowering her hands. Her nerves, however, remained on high alert, her gaze fixed on Haruto without blinking. Even for her, a fall into the Sanzu River would be an unpleasant affair. For Haruto-sama, who had only just begun his path of cultivation, it could be disastrous. She was the one who had agreed to accompany Komachi; if anything happened to him, she would be guilty of a crime worthy of death.
Thump.
Haruto landed precisely in the center of the swaying boat. But in that same instant, a ghostly hand erupted from the river, latched onto his wrist, and yanked with vicious force.
Swoosh—!
Almost simultaneously, a flash of steel descended. The malevolent spirit in the water let out a piercing shriek and immediately vanished back into the depths. Youmu didn't give chase. Instead, she caught Haruto's hand just in time, pulling him securely back into the boat.
The entire sequence unfolded in less than the blink of an eye. By the time Haruto processed what had happened, he was already sitting safely on the wooden planks.
"Haruto-sama, are—are you alright?" Youmu's youthful face was etched with anxiety as her hands patted him down, checking for any injuries.
"I'm fine." Haruto spread his hands, a casual smile on his face. "With you here, Youmu, how could anything possibly happen to me?"
He then turned his gaze to the bow, where Komachi now stood. At some point, she had retrieved her giant scythe. A terrifying light glowed within her crimson eyes as she slowly raised the weapon, aiming its tip at a specific spot on the river's surface.
Whoosh—
The sound of the scythe slicing through the air was sharp and clean. A blade of crimson energy pierced the water and dove deep. A moment later, a familiar, agonized scream echoed from the abyss.
"Did you just kill that thing?" Haruto asked.
Komachi lowered her scythe, her expression grim. "Laying a hand on my friend," she stated flatly, "is unforgivable."
"...Very cool," Haruto commented.
The simple compliment caused a faint blush to rise on the cheeks of the Shinigami, who was notoriously bad at taking them. She quickly deflected, turning to glare at the two Ghost Postmen still lingering on the shore.
"Are you two not getting on?" she barked, her tone now laced with menace. "Or do I have to personally invite you?"
Her attitude was a complete one-eighty. While her protectiveness stemmed from her budding friendship with Haruto and Youmu, it was also fueled by the fact that these two ghosts were, to put it mildly, not good people. With her ability to see karma, she didn't even need a name or a face to read a soul's entire life history—and theirs was stained black.
The two Ghost Postmen didn't dare utter a word. They knew the place they were being taken was no paradise, and that their fate would be anything but pleasant. But the thought of running was even more terrifying. The wretch in the water was a prime example; even after escaping into a river teeming with other vengeful spirits, it had still been cleaved in two.
The ferry was not large. Komachi usually only transported one or two souls at a time. With five people aboard, it was uncomfortably crowded.
Youmu had initially intended to sit between Haruto and the Ghost Postmen, acting as a barrier in case they tried anything. Haruto, however, would have none of it. He promptly pulled Youmu onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her slender waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.
This flagrantly intimate posture made Komachi scratch her head, a bemused look on her face. 'Their relationship,'she thought,'is progressing at ludicrous speed.'
The river stretched on, an endless expanse of yellowish-brown water. The small boat drifted like a lone leaf, swaying in a slow, leisurely rhythm.
"Komachi," Haruto eventually piped up, unable to bear the sluggish pace. "Is this really as fast as we can go?"
Komachi shook her head. "I could go faster, but I'm afraid you'll get seasick."
"No way. Go as fast as you want," Haruto declared, patting his chest with confidence.
The very next moment, as Komachi unleashed her power, he regretted everything.
The ferry suddenly felt like it had been fitted with a top-tier racing engine. It shot forward, kicking up massive waves as it sprinted across the river's surface. Haruto gripped the edge of the boat for dear life, his face contorted by the wind, certain he was about to be flung into the water.
This was more than just speeding; this was drag racing. But while others raced cars, Komachi raced boats.
The two Ghost Postmen were in even worse shape, plastered against the boat's hull. They didn't dare try to escape. Success was unlikely, but more, they could sense that falling into this river meant a death more final than any they had known.
The ferry was unbelievably fast. In just a few minutes, Haruto could already see the far shore. It was a stunning sight—a vast sea of blood-red flowers that painted the otherwise desolate landscape of Higan in a vibrant crimson.
'Quite beautiful,' he thought.
Under normal circumstances, Haruto might have dragged Youmu off to take a few photos and enjoy the scenery. But with the prospect of facing a Yama looming, the mood wasn't quite right. He hastily snapped a couple of pictures with his phone before following Komachi deeper into the Underworld.
As for the two Ghost Postmen, they had no idea where they were going, but they followed silently. Looking at the otherworldly scenery and the giant scythe on Komachi's back, a bold and terrifying guess began to form in their minds.
The heart of Higan was not far. After a twenty-minute walk, they arrived. Komachi's status here seemed to be quite high; every spirit and official they passed greeted her with a respectful bow.
Under her lead, the group of five arrived at the Hall of All Creation. This was where souls, upon reaching the Underworld, received judgment from the Yama and her subordinate judges. Their reincarnation, punishment, or salvation was decided based on the balance of their good and evil deeds in life.
Two rows of underworld messengers stood at attention on the left and right. At the far end of the hall, in the very center, was a high judging desk piled with two towering stacks of documents.
"Where is Shiki?" Haruto whispered to Komachi.
The Shinigami jumped, immediately slapping a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. From behind the desk, a pair of small hands pushed the two stacks of documents aside. A small, youthful face, contorted with fury, popped into view, its glare fixed upon them all.
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