Kumiko sat in the left passenger seat, a space of approximately one foot between her and Madame Ether, whose placid face was indicative of a deep trance.

Every so often, the old woman's lips would flutter slightly. While the first occurrence had been enough for her to lean forward in anticipation, two hours of observation had made it clear that it was an involuntary action, akin to rapid eye movement when one was asleep.

Feeling bored and restless, she faced ahead and focused on how Futoshi's hands gripped the steering wheel. From the looks of it, he was just as tired of this ordeal as she was, and she couldn't blame him. They'd been stuck in congested traffic for the past hour and a half, advancing at only a few inches a minute while trying their absolute hardest to remain silent.

Consequently, she couldn't help but envy Madame Ether's peaceful state. The old woman's mind was likely fixated on something pleasant, whereas hers was torn between the desire to have Ichiro back and the more noble cause of stopping Akane.

Regarding the latter, she knew it would be best if Mr. Higuchi himself identified the jorōgumo as being his killer. That way, he would receive some closure, while she'd be able to pursue the spider demon with confidence.

As for how she'd get him on her side after what she had done, that would have to wait until he was safely under their watch, which seemed unlikely to happen anytime soon, judging by the lack of response from Madame Ether.

Whatever you are, you'd better not be some fraud...

Another half-hour passed, during which a previously packed queue of cars steadily became more sparse, until the road ahead was clear and her heart rejoiced at their newfound freedom.

Nevertheless, the wait had taken its toll on her, and the low hum of the car's engine left her feeling just about ready to doze off.

She leaned her head against the window to observe the gray sky outside, then shut her eyes, welcoming the darkness.

Almost as soon as she did so, Futoshi's voice rung out in excitement, ruining her attempt at slumber. She opened her eyes and sat up straight with a gasp. "What...what is it?!"

"Chikako's awake," Futoshi repeated, raising his voice so that she could hear him better. "She's got something to say."

Kumiko swallowed and turned her attention to Madame Ether, who appeared groggy from being in a trance for so long. She prepared herself for the old woman's words.

"Of course, Futoshi," Madame Ether spoke up softly, directing all of her attention towards him and ignoring Kumiko completely. "Where should I begin?"

"I don't know. His current location?" Futoshi replied with sarcasm.

"Ah, yes, that. He's asleep right now in a house in Fukagawa. A young woman is cooking omelets for breakfast, but I don't know what he sees in her. She has a face like a horse..."

Kumiko immediately felt sick in her stomach, realizing that Mr. Higuchi had gone home and spent the night with a complete stranger. She frowned, clenching her fists in silent rage. I don't understand. Is his body just a tool at your disposal?!

It was all too much for her to bear, even with her having previously considered the possibility of it happening, and she couldn't decide either who was more deserving of retribution: Mr. Higuchi or the woman who had given in to his desires.

"Kumiko, are you alright?" Futoshi asked in concern from the driver's seat, his voice startling her.

"I...uh..." At a loss for words, she turned to face Madame Ether, who regarded her with guilt.

"Sorry, young lady. I should also mention that he's fully clothed and still yearning for you."

Relief briefly washed over Kumiko before she came to a harsh realization: Ichiro was currently the one in control, and there was no telling when he'd wake up from his slumber.

Knowing this, she leaned forward and spoke up urgently to regain Futoshi's attention. "Is there a way for us to get to that neighborhood soon? We don't have much time."

"I'm afraid not," came his reply as he slowed down and steered the car towards the side of the road. "But it would help if you and Chikako gave me directions. I can't read and drive at the same-"

"I get it. Just hand me the atlas already."

Futoshi hastily released one hand from the steering wheel to grab the atlas and toss it over the seat into her lap.

It landed with enough force to make her upper legs ache, but she wasted no time and turned straight to the index to begin searching.

******

The rev of the car engine outside only grew louder as Tsutomu stared uncomfortably back at Yukari, shocked by her accusation.

"I think you're paranoid..." he attempted to reason with a shaky voice. "That's probably just the neighbors..."

Her glare showed no sign of going away. "Bullshit. It wouldn't be so loud if that were the case."

"Well, maybe..."

The ominous sound abruptly abated, and Yukari leaped into action. She grabbed him roughly by the collar, prompting him to gasp as she shoved him out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

"You deal with them. I'll just listen..."

She pushed him towards the front door, then rushed off in an act that Tsutomu couldn't help but find cowardly.

Still, his goal was to leave this house, and perhaps, these visitors would help him in that regard.

The doorbell chimed, and he grabbed the cold steel handle, giving it a turn so that the door swung swiftly open.

A lone young woman stood outside, and the sight of her made his breath catch in his throat. There was no mistaking that it was Ichiro's wife, even with her hair down, and her traditional kimono traded for a white coat and black jeans.

Um, what's your name again? Kyoko? No, wait, it's Kumiko...

"Ichiro?" she uttered softly, her large eyes widening even more.

"Um..." he hesitated, wondering if it would be wise to tell her the truth when Yukari would likely overhear them. He glanced over his shoulder to see no sign of his host, yet he still felt wary and decided that it would be best to speak outside.

He opened the screen door that separated them before stepping upon the welcome mat. She politely took a step back.

"You're not him, are you?"

"Huh?"

"It's the look in your eyes. And the way you're acting so casual. You're Mr. Higuchi..."

He let go of the screen door, causing it to swing shut with a bang that startled them both.

"Uh, of course..." he replied once the sound had subsided, and they'd managed to compose themselves. "I'm him..."

She frowned. "Well, drat. That medium got me all scared and worried for nothing..."

"Medium?"

"Yes. Her name's Madame Ether, and she's waiting for us in the car." She grabbed his forearm and gave a firm tug. "Come on now. We don't have much-"

"Wait, wait, not so fast," Tsutomu protested, pulling his arm free. "I'm not leaving here until you tell me-"

Kumiko suddenly stiffened and stared up at him with a look of horror. She extended her index finger. "Oh, my goodness. His hair. What have you done?"

"What do you think? I had it cut."

Her voice quietened to a whisper. "Why? How could you do that?"

Well, here we go again, Tsutomu thought, recalling how traumatized Ichiro had become upon looking in the mirror. He knew by now that visiting the barber's hadn't been the most considerate thing to do, but he didn't regret it either and felt ready to defend his choice, even if it upset Kumiko even more.

"Because I wanted to blend in, that's why."

As expected, she didn't react to such an explanation well. Her lips quivered before she spoke up in protest.

"That's where you're wrong. It's not just about you because his feelings matter too..." She grabbed him by the arm again, and this time, her grip was tight enough to cause a sting that made his eyes water.

"I... I know that..." he whimpered through his tears.

"Really? Do you know what would happen if Ichiro woke up? How devastated he'd be?!"

It frightened Tsutomu to see her mood change so quickly, and remembering that she likely possessed powers beyond his knowledge, he resorted to calling for the person he'd known for only a couple of hours in total. "Yukari! Help!"

To his relief, rapid footsteps sounded immediately from within the house, and in a matter of seconds, Yukari was at the front door staring at them both.

"Okay, what's going on here? Who's that lady?" Yukari asked, clearly not amused.

Kumiko didn't waste any time and let go of him before turning to give the other woman a shallow bow. "Apologies for my conduct. My name is Kumiko Takahashi, and I've come here to collect my husband."

Tsutomu opened his mouth to scoff at such false cordiality, only to be beaten to it by Yukari.

"Nice try, but Ichiro here is a widower. His wife's been dead for a really long time."

"What? What are you talking about?" Kumiko replied in complete disbelief. "Who told you that?"

Yukari glanced smugly in his direction. "Who do you think?"

A brief but tense silence ensued, during which Kumiko shifted her attention back towards him, and he became aware of the hole that he'd dug himself into. Her accusing glare was unsettling indeed, and he wanted nothing more than to distance himself from her as soon as possible.

Which he did, by taking off and sprinting down the stony path that led away from the house. Behind him, Kumiko called out and gave chase, though he felt confident that he'd get away from her just like before.

In high spirits, he sped past the white Honda Civic parked in the driveway while paying no heed to the people inside, a mistake that would prove to be his undoing, for a car door opening and slamming into his chest was all it took to knock the air out of him.

He fell straight backward with a wheeze, curling up in agony as a short figure emerged and called out in victory.

"Kumiko, I've done it! I've got him!"