Case 14: In the Mirror (5)

The next day, after sunrise, I visited Krishna-san’s room and told her that.

“That proprietor is strange. And there’s also definitely something strange about this mansion.”

“I know already.”

Krishna-san was writing something indifferently on a table next to the window.

Without even glancing in my direction, and without resting her hand, she ignored my desperate pleas.

Last night, after what happened, we returned to our separate rooms and went to bed, but in the end, I couldn’t sleep a wink. Just what was that path hidden in the wall? Why was there a mirror on the back of the wall door to the entrance of that path? And--- what was that shadow beyond the path that seemed to be drawing close?

Now as I recalled it once more, a cold shiver rose up from beneath my feet.

Wasn’t that a person? It felt as if it was hectically shaking its head from side to side, looking for something. And it was like that arm wasn't there, like it had fallen off…

No. No, that was because I heard that proprietor’s old story. I had known that information beforehand, so I mistook something like that—that’s right, in short was a ‘schema’. The thing where stains on the wall look like a person’s face.

As I was absorbed in driving away my fears,

“You need to get back to Musashino right away.”

Krishna-san told me with her back towards me.

“….Eh. What are you going to do, Krishna-san?”

“I’m, going to stay here for a little while longer.”

“Y…you’d better give up. Then, you should at least call those ghost specialists. You know, the people in charge of Ikaigabuchi investigations you always call for….”

“I can’t. They all have their own individual fields of expertise. I don’t know who to call unless we uncover the root of the misfortune that binds this mansion. At the very least, I must determine that root.”

Thereafter, Krishna-san stopped her writing hand, and muttered quietly, “Moreover, if I were to return now.”

“If you were to return?”

“I won’t make it up to Karasu-san.”

“Karasu-san has nothing to do with it, right? In the first place, would Karasu-san be happy if you stayed in a place like this?”

“Just a little bit more… I have a feeling something will pop up.”

Krishna-san turned back and handed to me what appeared to be a sealed letter.

“When you get back to Musashino, give this to Sako-san.”

“…To Sako?”

Krishna-san nodded, and her eyes shone with a glint suggesting that she wanted to say something—when I suddenly understood.

“Could it be that this is about my memories?”

“........”

“I’ve really forgotten someone, haven’t I? Did you and Sako do something to me? Why?”

However, Krishna-san kept silent, biting her lips.

We were getting nowhere, so I put my hand on her small shoulder.

“At any rate let’s go back together. Or maybe it would be better to call that bastard Sako.”

“I can’t do that.”

Krishna-san refused as if to brush off my hand.

“I’m always relying on other people. Even though I have no power to deal with ghosts, I thought I would do something outrageous like promote the segregation of ghosts and people, not knowing my place. And who knows how many people -- ended up dead because of me.”

“Krishna-san, that wasn’t your fau…”

“Is that really the case? Say, Nagi-kun. Can you say that with absolute certainty?”

My hand stopped at that desperate scream—at those tears that flowed from her large eyes.

“I can’t forgive myself…if I can’t at least fix this problem properly by myself.”

“—Now then. Have you figured out the identity of the thing in the mirror?”

Beyond the deliciously steaming breakfast, the old man smiled.

“…No, not yet.”

Krishna-san hung her head down,

“It’s fine, we have an abundance of time. Please make yourselves comfortable.”

The old man kindly declared with a hoarse voice.

Outside the window, a slight drizzle had begun before I realized. Illuminated by the faint sunshine, the table was lined with grilled river fish, pickled vegetables, bamboo miso soup, and freshly cooked rice.

And in the end--- I ended up receiving that food together with Krishna-san and the old man.

As I listened to the birds chirping, I thought the food was delicious, while at the same time feeling that I was pathetic.

“It’s good to have someone to talk to.”

The old man spoke to Krishna-san after partaking in a small mouthful of food.

“You are still young, but we have always had smooth communication. There is progress there. Let us have a meaningful, quality debate, unencumbered by ethical excesses.”

“…Last night.”

“Hm?”

“Is it alright if I ask about the path at the end of the corridor?”

In response, the old man, whose face which was once handsome in the past, creased its wrinkles—and broadly grinned.

“Please forget about it.”

“………”

“It is something that is not supposed to exist. Our nature as human beings to make things exist that are not supposed to exist - isn't that the true nature of a ghost?”

“In all likelihood, you are correct.”

Krishna-san spoke.

“However, the thing we saw last night was real.”

“And what exactly… did you see?”

“….Eh?”

“I did not see anything—and yet you included me in the ‘we’ you spoke of?”

“No, I definitely-- in the end of that corridor—Hey, Nagi-kun, you saw it as well, right?”

She suddenly swung my way, and in a panic, I gulped down the grains of rice in my mouth.

“Ermmm, right, it was like… I saw something.”

“Right? There must have been something - or someone - at the end of the corridor.”

Krishna-san insisted stubbornly, but as for me, it was pathetic that I didn’t truly trust my own perceptions. Even though I was an occult enthusiast, I was even more of a wimp, and I thought that the possibility was high that it was a schema rather than a person, something I always thought when I cooled off. Looking at it now that it’s morning, I even ended up thinking that it must have all been my imagination.

“That was -- yes, I think it was a woman with long hair.”

…………….Eh?

Krishna-san muttered that as she tried unusually hard to compose herself…. No, but what I saw was more like a man, something that had no arm and was hectically shaking its head from side to side.

In response—the old man cackled in a creepy manner.

“That’s how human perception is, Kurimoto-kun. Things like memories can manufacture several things later on. As long as humans are subjective living things, all memories without exception, receive slight revision. And, the more people with power speak of that, the more their subjective, vague and uncertain memories are recorded as authentic history. They say that the history is written by the victors – but it sure is scary, isn’t it, this world?”

Those were—

The type of words Krishna-san would usually point out before anything else, I thought.

Krishna-san would always question herself first. She would question all the ghost stories of this world, and she would go to the limits to eliminate even the slightest possibility of misinformation being mixed in. She strongly believed that fear came from ignorance.

Right now, Krishna-san was biting her lips. It was probably the regret of having ended up uttering what she saw herself (or what she felt she saw).

…Ah, come to think of it.

She said something about ‘racial conflict’ in the taxi on the way here. She then moved to ‘A history of human conflict’, and ‘Terrible things having quietly started somewhere’. You often see this type of thinking on the internet where current events are interpreted as grand evil signs. What are commonly called ‘conspiracy theories’. Krishna-san knew better than anyone else about how dangerous it was to start believing in conspiracy theories, but she still ended up uttering them— she must be feeling a sense of danger about herself. Was….that the real reason she closed Ikaigabuchi?

I thought that far, when I finally realized.

If the one-armed man I saw (or I felt I saw) was the ‘deceased friend’ imagined from the story of the old man named Mamiya---then the long haired woman Krishna-san saw…could it be?

Karasu-san?

Feeling responsibility for the death of Karasu-san, could Krishna-san’s heart be—

Much, much thinner than I thought, on the verge of being worn out?