Case 14: In the Mirror (8)

Krishna-san had her head face down somewhat apologetically—

Could it be?

Could it be that the owner of that voice was ‘Yoishi Mitsurugi’?

“Oh, what a cute young lady.”

The old man let out a merry voice.

“Welcome, to my mansion.”

In response, the young girl that was still only a voice to me whispered.

(Fools destroy this world--- I strongly agree with that theory. However, you don't know what a true fool is.)

“Interesting, please do explain.”

(Often in this world, the wise must go along and converse with fools. That is correct. The wise arrive at the truth of this world before the fools, and despair of their own inadequacies more often than the fool —that too is correct. However, you don’t realize that as long as humans are creatures who live by emotion, the aggregate amount of despair is the same.)

“…Oh?”

(Indeed, there might be fewer fools who may be aware of their stupidity in comparison to the wise. But, as long as the aggregate amount of emotion is the same, the wise experience the self-hate ten different times whereas the fool only experiences ten times all at once. When they realize and understand it, the despair they felt would be ten times greater. And, that which the exceedingly sensitive fool experiences is a hundred times more worthy than the insensitive wise man —That is this person. You could not withstand even a small portion of the pain this person has experienced thus far. As long as there are circumstances worth sympathizing in, this person is an extraordinary fool who will walk together with them be they the living or the dead—No matter how much someone tries to stop him, he still plunges into the abyss in tears, a person who endured it all.)

For some reason, the back of my nose prickled.

(The wise living by getting along with fools? You can talk from above and feel good about it all you want, but that is an exceedingly laughable thing. The fool who cannot see ahead is the first to realize what lies at their feet. They are diligently moving the pebbles at their feet, one by one, day by day, which the wise do not care about. That’s why, the self-proclaimed wisemen are able to look ahead without falling down.)

“How interesting.”

The old man cried out in excitement, and at the same time, another violent thunderbolt struck yet again.

And I noticed that the feet of the young girl, who was only a voice, were dripping wet.

It seemed the so-called ‘Yoishi Mitsurugi’ had come soaking wet in the rain, in response to my call for help.

“Krishna-san.”

I asked.

“…This girl with only a voice--- the girl everyone can see, why am I the only one who can’t see her?”

“……That’s.”

“But she’s Yoishi, isn’t she?”

“Nagi-kun…. You were shaken up pretty badly back then. You were lashing out, wailing and afraid. That’s why--”

“….Right. I ended up calling her a monster.”

“…………”

“I called her a monster, I feared her, and ended up crying and screaming.”

“…That’s right.”

“I still don’t know why that was. But, even if she was a monster---she answered my call, and came to help in the rain here in the mountains. I’ve never seen such a monster with a strong sense of duty.”

Thereupon, the voice echoed once more.

(The thing that gazes at you from inside the mirror--- If you really want to know its true identity, I’ll tell you.)

“Ho, ho.”

The old man sat back down happily.

“By all means, please, young lady.”

In response, I suddenly heard a Shing.

It seemed that ‘Yoishi Mitsurugi’ had flicked a glass on the table with her fingers.

(Venetian glass that’s more than five-hundred years old—moreover, this is not ‘Facon de Venise’, but rather, an original from the island of Murano.)

“Oh, so you know of Murano originals.”

(Originally, the exact origins of Venetian glass are shrouded in mystery. The method was said to have been established in the seventh or eighth century, and was considered top secret by the Republic of Venice at the time, with all craftsmen isolated on Murano Island.)

A nice sounding shing rang out once more.

The old man closed his eyes as if entranced by that tune. I, too, was caught up in it, and closed my eyes trying to imagine it as well.

(The small Murano Island is filled with workshops. As a result of the friendly competition between craftsmen called maestros, hard glass adorned with ornaments continues to be refined at a higher, more vivid quality.)

--*Shing* The sound of glass. Perhaps because I had closed my eyes, the sound was more vivid than before. And, when I heard it again with the added explanation, I felt that the vivid sound had a different experience.

(The almost legendary fame these craftsmen earned gave them unparalleled respect. Their fame reached its peak in the fifteenth century, and they were at last commissioned to create the ‘Hall of Mirrors’ in the Palace of Versailles.)

…Hall of mirrors?

--Shing The sound reverberated.

(The Palace of Versailles was said to be a castle of Louis XIV, a palace within a palace. It is a vast place installed with mirrors, enough for the Hall of mirrors to be referred to as the ‘Corridor of Mirrors’, and in the ceiling is a famous decorative ceiling painting by the famous Charles Le Brun. In the painting, which is said to be a declaration of the king's own rule and a departure from the aristocracy, Louis XIV, the Sun King, holds a rudder in his right hand, blessed by angels and surrounded by various gods. The god of ‘wisdom’ Minerva, Mars the god of ‘war’, and the personification of ‘time’, the god of agriculture Saturn—all of them extoll Louis XIV.)

“…Umhmm.”

Again, a *shing*, the sound of glass rang out once more, and the old man comfortably chuckled in this throat.

At that moment, Krishna-san’s silent murmur reached my ears.

“…..Hypnotherapy, is it?”

…Hypno, therapy?

I thought I heard it somewhere before… As the word ‘therapy’ suggested, the rhythm of ‘Yoishi Mitsurugi’s’ words was very relaxing. I was somehow convinced that the word therapy did apply, and I continued to keep my eyes shut as I listened in ecstasy—however, that was as far as it went for being enraptured.

(In the days of glory, a picture of glory—however, why is it I wonder?)

Suddenly, the tone of Yoishi’s voice dropped.

(There is one strange god in the painting. One god alone is illustrated with his back facing the king.)

“The god Pluto— Hades according to Greek mythology.”

The old man answered with eyes still closed.

(That’s exactly it. The sinister Pluto who holds dominion over death—That’s why he has his back towards you who are blessed.)

“…Hmm…”

(You are now more blessed than all of creation. You have attained the self you were meant to achieve.)

--Shing The clear sound rings perfectly clear as if it covered the entire world.

(The light floods in —the power slowly leaves your body---it falls deeper and deeper into the sky.)

--Shiiiiiiiiiing, the sound reverberates all around me.

(That’s right, before you know it, you are in a meadow.)

Together with her words—

My surroundings had somehow turned into a field thick with young fresh grass.

It was vast. A meadow that spread as far as I could see, as a gentle breeze blew past me.

(You proceed through the meadow. In the middle of the meadow, there is a large tree. An ancient, thick tree trunk that has experienced many years.)

(You put your hand on that trunk. You look at that hand. You realize who you are--)

(Are you a man, or a woman?)

“……A, a man.”

The old man's croaky voice responded.

(A man around what age?)

“….Twenty seven, thereabout.”

(You who are twenty-seven-years-old discover a large hole in the tree trunk. It’s a very large hole….what is inside?)

“…..I don’t know…it’s pitch black….”

(Then let’s slowly enter inside. It’s alright, because you have a light in your hand.)

“….Yes….”

(Try to illuminate your arm with the light. What do you recall?)

“…Arm…arm….I…wanted to bulk it… because it was slightly thinner as compared to his….It weighed on my mind that it was thin compared to my best friend…..”

(Where is that friend?)

“…..Where…next to me…he was always next to me….Aah…..”

(Please shine a light on your friend.)

“….He’s here….he’s laughing…. His face is handsome like an actor….The man who instilled an uncountable sense of inferiority in me…..And, the man who was always kind to me…. I thought I wanted to be like this man…..No…..that’s not it…..”

(What – is not it?)

“The person who’s there….is me….where did my friend go….?”

(……………….)

“This is….this is….a mirror isn’t it?! …..Eeek! My reflection….where did he go….?”

(No, that is not you.)

In the midst of the pitch-black darkness—the whispers of the young girl echoed.

“……What……?”

(That is because, you are not ‘Ryouichi Mamiya’. It is true that you are currently the chairman of the conglomerate ‘Mamiya Motors’ which boasts the largest market share of the Japanese market, but you are not the man who originally held the name of ‘Ryouichi Mamiya’.)

At that moment, something beyond the darkness that had its back turned moved sneakily.

With a forked shaku in hand*, the indomitable brown colored back of Pluto, had turned around at some point.

And, at the same time, a sobbing scream that was enough to make you shudder rang out. That was, the voice of the old man.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…..I, I was……..No, I was…….that’s right, in the darkness--- I was told that one would be allowed to live. He said he would deliberately allow one of us to live. He said he would make me taste the sadness of having lost my friend until I died….It was no joke, I thought. It was no joke. I thought living my life being afraid of Mamiya’s shadow until my death was something I could never do. Even Fumiko, the one she really liked was Mamiya….I don’t think she would be swayed by me if Mamiya were to die…that’s why, I became Mamiya….because that was the best thing I could do.”

(No—that is how you justified it to yourself.)

‘Yoishi Mitsurugi’ coldly condemned him.

(You stole a man’s name, and as a result, stole everything from him.)

However—the old man wasn’t listening anymore.

“No….I am the real…. Ryouichi Mamiya!”

As he shouted that, I heard the sound of something crashing down and falling somewhere.

Thereupon at long last, I opened my eyes.

I desperately looked around at the blurry world, as if a long dream still lingered, and realized that I was in the living room of that mansion, and that there were broken pieces of the so-called Venetian glass at my feet.

“….Forgive me. Mamiya, stop….”

I heard the scream of the old man at the end of the corridor, and Krishna-san and the maid broke off into a run.

I, too, got up, and tried to leave the room together with them, but—

I heard a Shing from somewhere once more.

With a start, I looked at the fragments of the broken glass lying scattered on the floor.

Once more, a clear, Shing reverberated.

It was in midair. Someone’s white hand was on that glass, and the glass sounded in a high-pitched tone once more— and I understood that ‘Yoishi Mitsurugi’ was still there.

Then I remembered. That’s right, I had read it once before on ‘Ikaigabuchi’. About hypnotherapy being called ‘Regression Hypnotherapy’.

You are made to hear a certain sound continuously. Words, the sound of glass, anything is fine. At any rate, under a certain rhythm, you are led to an altered state of consciousness. The manifestation of one’s inner child. The adult self going to meet the child self, where unfulfilled emotions or complaints are addressed. To listen to ‘The grievances you really wanted to vent’. And, what leads to that realization is—

A higher self. A self that is full of peace, faith, compassion and wisdom—Ah, in short, it was the decorative ceiling painting.

At that moment—the world was enveloped with an overwhelming light, and when I came to, I was in front of the university’s western club building. The building was surrounded by Zelkova trees, and I was riding in front of it on my worn-out mama bike. For a brief period, I was at my happiest here. At any rate, I had to meet her, as I pedaled my bike, my heart beat throbbed, and I was out of breath. The scenery flew past behind me, and eventually, I arrived at the library I had aimed for. I hurriedly locked my bike and parked it, and I saw her come out of the library. “Yoishi!”, I yelled.

But, at the same time, I spotted a familiar shadow. It was Akane Nanamori. And I saw a long black shadow at her back---Is how I felt. After that….after that, ahh, I don’t really remember. Before I’d realized, I had jumped onto the road, and in an instant, my vision was turned upside down, filled with the blue sky. I was thrown up into the sky.

After that---what happened?

In an instant, an intense GONG reverberated from the entire sky—

And suddenly, an unfamiliar family appeared. A family of four, all smiling happily. A father, a mother, two daughters, and a small shaggy dog. No, it was not an unfamiliar family. I was very close, right besides this family--- and existed by receiving a share of their happiness—And.

I found out something.

I found out that this family hid a secret you wouldn’t tell anyone.

『I couldn’t save them.』

Someone’s voice echoed in my head, a voice I didn’t know—

And then, I was thrown out into a world of darkness.

It was a graveyard. And, it was---that’s right. Last Christmas, I came here with her. It was almost midnight before Christmas, and here we were watching fireworks together. We were sitting on a bench, and I dearly hoped that I could see her smile, so I put my hands on her cheek—

However, there was no one there. Neither her long black hair, nor her beautiful face, transparent and white, was there by my side.

Or rather….there was, no one there.

I dizzily got up from the bench.

And I started walking in the dark cemetery, towards the row of countless gravestones.

Graves, Graves, Graves, Graves, Graves—the graves continued endlessly. Familiar names were inscribed on those graves. My mother’s name was there. My elder sister’s name was there. Friends from when I was a brat. My companions from my high school days. My acquaintances at university. Karasu-san’s name was there, as well as Sako’s. Krishna-san’s name was there as well---and my name was also there.

“What…is this place?”

A wind blew through the open hole in my chest.

A sad wind blew through me, as I looked alone at a world where everything had ended.

A world where everyone had once cried, lost their temper, and laughed together.

It was as if the world had ended, as if it were a world of darkness where everything from the air to the temperature, to the microbes, had all disappeared.

I alone wandered unsteadily in that cold, silent darkness, and then I realized.

Her name alone— was missing.

The grave with the name of ‘Yoishi Mitsurugi’ alone was nowhere to be found.

---Are you, really…..called ‘Yoishi’?

At that moment, I…I finally reached the question I needed the answer to above all else.

‘Yoishi’—

One year ago, I found out about that ominous rumor,

And met her for the first time in a family restaurant late at night,

And, I began to wander around in the depths of countless paranormal phenomena, I ….that’s right, I started calling her ‘Yoishi’ before I realized….and ended up believing that ‘Yoishi’ itself was her name.

However, that wasn’t it—

Could it be that I, in fact, was not aware of her real name?

The next thing I knew—

I was in the living room of the mansion, standing stock still in a daze.

And before me, was a young girl all by herself.

She had long black hair, skin as white as porcelain, dressed in the Koumei school’s black blazer uniform.

There was a dark color in her large eyes, as she looked at me.

“…Yo….”

“…………”

“….Yo, Yoishi!”

What was her real name? Was it alright to call her by that name?

I still didn’t know the answer to that, but in the end, I shouted that out loud, and hugged her so tight her arms might have broken.

“……….Fuugh.”

Perhaps because she was surprised, Yoishi let out a strange voice like that of a mountain cat.

“Just for a bit. Call me a harasser or a pervert. Just let me stay like this, just for a little.”

I begged her, and Yoishi’s body, which stiffened for a moment, eventually relaxed little by little. I tenderly embraced that body once more. Thinking that it was thin and soft.

She came all the way out here without an umbrella and was drenched in the rain, and some kind of strange scent prickled at my nose, but I couldn't help but feel nostalgic about all of that, so I held my cheeks against Yoishi’s wet black hair, and spoke in a snotty, gravelly voice.

“….I’m sorry…I’m sorry for having forgotten about you. I’m sorry I couldn’t….see you.”

“…………..”

“And, most of all—I’m sorry I called you a monster.”

“……………”

“You’re nothing at all like a monster. Definitely not.”

When I declared that—

“You can—see Yoishi…?”

I heard Krishna-san’s voice, and with a start, I raised my head.

It seemed she had returned to the room before I’d realized. There she was, flush red for some reason as she looked at me and Yoishi in an embrace. However, I didn’t care as I continued to embrace Yoishi and nodded.

“Krishna-san you---no, that bastard Sako made Yoishi invisible to me.”

“….That---couldn’t be helped. Back then, you were…”

…..Ah, I know already.

I remembered everything. Back then, in the hospital room, when I saw Yoishi, something about her scared me. I was helplessly afraid and delirious, I screamed, cried and lashed out. The doctors and nurses came one after the other and held me down---and I recalled the moment up until Sako touched my forehead. In all likelihood, that’s when that bastard Sako did something to me.

“I understand.”

Krishna-san looked at me with an expression distorted with worry, and I gently nodded.

“Hypnotherapy.”

“……….Ah.”

“I remembered thanks to that.”

After telling her this, I finally remembered what was happening in this mansion in the present.

“More importantly, Krishna-san, Mamiya san is--”

“Ah…….ahh, that’s right.”

Krishna-san immediately returned to a straight face, and spoke.

“I need you to come right away. And Yoishi as well.”

“What happened?”

In response, the former occult site manager gloomily hung her head down.

“He has passed away.”