There used to be a person named M (pseudonym) in my hometown.
M lived in the barracks behind our house and was a notorious evil even as a child.
Some of his shenanigans were not unlike those of a child.
All the children avoided him, even the adults. He was two years younger than me.
M was born and raised in the barracks and moved out with his family once, but he came back because his father was in prison and his life became difficult.
Stealing is a daily occurrence for M. If there is a carpenter climbing a ladder, he immediately takes it down and hides it.
If he sees a dog, he kicks it away and has no mercy for it.
The pain of a yelping dog is irrelevant to M.
M’s father often went to jail for theft and other crimes, and then returned.
When he is out of sight.
”He’s probably at his vacation home again.”
Rumors began to circulate.
When they didn’t see him for a while, he finally went missing.
His mother took him to a temple and sent him to a police dojo when he was in junior high school, and did everything she could to make him a normal child.
I think she also tried her best to include him in the neighborhood taiko club.
Whenever M did something out of the ordinary, his mother would bow down to him, and it was a pitiful sight to see, and it seemed that he was even having trouble making ends meet.
She was ready. “When I die, I will definitely take her with me.”
That was his mother’s platitude.
In the second year of junior high school, M stabbed a teacher with a knife and was sent to a reformatory.
To be honest, people around her were relieved.
It was understandable, since they had to watch out for M and go outside to avoid seeing him, and in any case, they had to be careful not to get involved with him or harm him as much as possible.
The next time I saw M, he already looked like an adult.
He must have been in his teens, but perhaps it was his mustache that made him look like an adult.
His mother had become completely emaciated and died shortly after.
At that time, M was such an outlaw that his name appeared in newspapers and weekly magazines, and at his mother’s funeral, the police and the anti-society gathered in equal numbers.
Her mother’s funeral was a pompous affair, but it was a fine one, something you don’t see around here.
On the 49th day after the funeral, M fell off a bridge with her car and died without incident.
In contrast to his mother, no one showed up to conduct his funeral, and he was handed over to the temple after a small ceremony in the town.
The head of the community suggested that the grave be placed together with his mother’s, but unusually, the temple’s head priest opposed the idea.
In the end, they placed a small stone next to the grave and buried the bones.
The head of the temple said, “We have to give Mrs. S (M’s mother) a rest now. M came into this world by mistake, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.”
That’s what the priest said.
The priest chanted sutras in front of the grave every day until M’s 49th day had passed.
I asked him why he was so devoted to the memorial service.
HE said
“I saw him off so well that he would never come back.
The previous abbot had long ago taken care of M as a demon child, teaching him the way of the Buddha and trying to soothe him. He entrusted it to me to take care of the rest.
Do you know what reincarnation is? That man was born in this land several times and did evil deeds, and everyone smoked him. There was a time when the villagers used to get rid of him secretly.
I don’t think there are many people who know about him anymore, but the temple kept records and passed on his characteristics orally. Well, I can’t go into details.”
I don’t know the truth of what the priest said, but even now, when I see incidents on the news, the word “Oni-ko(The Devil’s Child)” comes to mind.
