Chapter – 60
Shrinky-Dink Accessories
Looking around the room, Aoi was nowhere in sight.
“Didn’t Yamakawa-san say she’d be in the workshop?” Mukai asked, approaching Kojirō.
“She went down to the lower world a little while ago.”
“Just missed her, huh? I wanted to ask about the contract…” Mukai placed both hands on his hips and lowered his head.
“Yamakawa seems to want to continue a bit longer,” said the Dark King, lifting Sanki and Kon from his knees and looking at Mukai.
“If this becomes an anime, that’s fine. But at this rate, she’ll never find peace… is that okay with you?” Mukai asked.
“Yamakawa might disappear just as she is.”
“Disappear?”
“Souls that don’t easily move on often have surprisingly short lifespans. Those spirits sometimes just vanish satisfied with themselves, so she might be one of them.”
“Does that really happen?”
“It’s rare, but yes. So, as long as they don’t cause trouble, it’s fine to leave them be.”
“Next time, tell me that from the beginning!” Mukai glared, annoyed by the Dark King’s answer.
“Why? You didn’t ask,” the Dark King replied, feigning innocence.
“Ugh… this old man is impossible,” Mukai muttered, shooting a look at Sanki and Kon.
“Anyway, I want to try making Shrinky-Dinks,” Kojirō said.
Just then, the Shrinky-Dink artist Aota approached.
“Oh! So you’re the one who made this?” Kojirō held up the pendant.
“You like it? The artwork is Yamakawa-san’s, but I processed it into an accessory,” Aota said.
“My friends asked me for one too. They say you can make simple ones yourself. Is that true?” Kojirō pointed at Mukai.
“I can. With practice, you can make bigger pieces too,” Mukai answered.
“I want to learn too,” said the Dark King.
“Nope. You’ll make flowers with us first,” Sanki protested.
“Then, once the flowers are done, shall we all make Shrinky-Dinks together?” Aota suggested.
“Yeah~!” Sanki and Kon jumped up excitedly.
“All right, everyone—Dark King, kids, come over here! We’ll make bouquets,” said Oikawa, the wood shaving artist, clapping his hands as he called them over.
He had been turning the underworld lanterns into soft-lit wood shaving lamps in the workshop.
“The warm colors are easy on the eyes, so I think they’ll suit the underworld,” he said.
Meanwhile, he had also prepared a bouquet in the library, which the kids had found adorable and caused a small commotion when he opened a class for it. Mukai wondered when this place had turned into a full-fledged workshop.
Watching the Shinigami creating things while being taught by the artists, Mukai couldn’t help but smile.
“In that case, I’ll learn first, right?” Kojirō said excitedly to Aota.
“Of course,” Aota replied with a smile, sitting down at the empty table with Kojirō.
Kojirō, who had shifted from dog form to human form, looked a little comical. Despite his age, he still resembled a boy.
“Sorry, my students are demons and youkai,” Mukai said.
“No, it’s fun for me too, being able to freely create like this even though I’m dead. Losing my family was painful… but everyone here has their own regrets and feelings, so I realize I’m not alone,” said forty-year-old Aota. He worried about his middle school-aged child.
People have their own lives, and spirits have their own attachments.
“I’ve lived a long time, but in the end, I’ll just become a corpse. There’s no higher or lower than that. Humans overthink things too much. Life, surprisingly, is resilient,” Kojirō said seriously, his words surprising both Mukai and Aota.
“Sometimes you say the strangest things,” Mukai said.
“‘Sometimes’—how rude. From our perspective, humans live only a moment compared to us. Just live as you like,” Kojirō replied, looking at them.
“Yes… as long as my child doesn’t bother others, I want them to live freely,” Aota said with a smile.
“Exactly. If they’re healthy, that’s enough,” Kojirō said, and then added, “So, what should we do first?”
With that, he happily began working with Aota.
