Case 09: Dear Nostradamus-sama (2)

My thoughts swirled around the ‘abyss’ as Yoishi had called it.

『Once you have peered into the ‘abyss’, there is no salvation for you.』

If I recall correctly, she had said something similar back in the abandoned hospital incident. I had presumed that the ‘abyss’ she mentioned referred to the world beyond -- but that didn’t seem to be the case. I was once saved by her, when she descended to the mansion at the depths of my memory. If she hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t even be here thinking like this. It was a veritable ‘depth of the abyss’*, for me, a place where I wandered on the border between life and death --- but I wonder if that was even close to what she called ‘the abyss’.

After that, I thought of the elementary school girl I met today. I recall how the imbalance between her indifferent smile and her actions distorted the scene. Ten thousand yen for one ghost photograph, was it? I mean, when I was in elementary school, even five hundred yen was a lot of money. Even the New Year's money I received once a year at New Year's was almost confiscated completely. That’s why it certainly felt wrong for an elementary school kid to meet with adults through the internet to trade ghost photos for tens of thousands of yen. But – kids are kids. They will still have plenty of opportunities to get back on the right path, and I think it’s the role of society and adults to help them do so.

But – on the other hand, a voice inside me asks myself whether that was something that I, a mere half man, should be doing. In other words, it was hard for me, a halfwit, to find an answer even if I thought about it. If I were to run into that elementary school girl again somewhere, I had no concrete idea on what to do.

“…Ugh.”

With a sigh, I looked up at the loft where the light was leaking in from.

It seemed Yoishi was still awake. She was clacking away on the laptop she had brought with her. I had no idea what she was up to. She’s been at it for a long time now, maybe she’s browsing some grotesque NSFW underground websites that make Ikaigabuchi look like mere child’s play.

--Trying to rehabilitate her really is impossible, isn’t it?

Like Krishna-san had said all along, does that mean a large miracle is required? When I recall the cold words she spoke today, I lose confidence, and at the same time, I get this sick twisted feeling in my stomach. They were probably sound arguments, but I felt they were worthless opinions. They sounded like the kind of thing I would expect to hear from a small, narrow-minded adult, the type of person I despise.

Looking at the light coming from across the loft reminded me of that and irritated me, so I pulled the covers over me and closed my eyes tightly. But that didn't make me sleepy - on the contrary, it made me remember all the more.

If I remember correctly, Yoishi had said that she couldn’t see the girl’s face. No, actually, that was the beginning of the whole problem. I wonder if she’s solved that mystery yet.

In order to confirm that, I threw off the futon, when—

An uncomfortable feeling took hold over me.

The room felt unnaturally dark. No, it was obviously dark with the sole light coming from Yoishi’s laptop, but between the light from the loft and my bed, there was another darkness present, an invisible darkness of an unknown nature. Drifting there as if blending in the dim light – it was like a black mist, like black ink stained on a shirt --- I had a feeling, I had seen it before somewhere….

Ahh. I remembered.

It was in the ghost photo which Yoishi was supposed to have burned. The photo of the elementary school kids playing that Kokkuri-san-like game called ‘Dear Nostradamus-Sama’. I'm sure I saw something black like this in that twilight classroom scene.

I closed my eyes tightly. And then slowly opened them. However, it was still there. It wasn’t just my imagination or an optical hallucination. There was definitely something hanging in mid-air in that part of the dimly lit room.

Before I’d realized, the sounds of Yoishi clanking away on her keyboard had disappeared.

The world was deathly silent, absent of all sound.

“…Y, Yoishi.”

I couldn't help but let out that voice, when—

“I know already.”

I heard a voice from the other side of the loft.

“…W-what should I do?”

“Ignore it.”

...I-ignore it? That’s impossible…!

“It’ll disappear eventually.”

How long do you mean by eventually…?

I was about to ask, when I felt that black mist move. Its center wiggled in a vortex, creating a gap in the space. I think I smelled a damp scent wafting from there. An odor I had smelled somewhere before. It seems that smells are sometimes directly connected to memory. Completely disregarding any chronological order, they can suddenly materialize sights and visions seen in the past. That might have been the case this time. That nostalgic fragrance brought back the memory I least wanted to recall.

…Hey, stop it.

Sentimentality is a gap – and the wounds of a broken heart. I was supposed to be standing in my 10 sqm loft apartment, but somehow, I found myself thrown into my mother’s room at home.

The frayed tatami mats.

The ingrained scent of mosquito coils.

And standing in front of me, lay the sooty, old fusuma.

It opened slightly ajar once more, and from the darkness beyond, something peeked my way. I bite down on my clattering teeth, and pull the bed covers over my head. It was already over. Everything was over. I would never run back there again. I would live reality. I would plant my feet on the ground, and I would live my life, one step at a time – is what I kept repeating to myself over and over in sheer desperation, but the fusuma door continued to open.

The darkness opens its mouth, and something inside places its hand on the edge of the fusuma.

“…S…stop it, don’t come out of there.”

But – at that moment.

I felt someone’s presence, standing right beside me. As I held my breath, someone touched my shoulder, startling me. They lifted the futon suddenly and slipped into the futon.

“….E, EEEEEK!”

“Be quiet.”

It was Yoishi’s voice.

I realized her slick, long hair was touching the tip of my nose, and her cold palms were on my back. There was no rubbing, stroking or kind gesture from there on, but the palm of her hand had barely managed to hold back my mind from collapse.

Yoishi’s brow was right in front of my lips, and in the darkness, my foolish thoughts drifted to ‘Ah, she really does smell like this.’ My lower half began to stir sexually for a moment, but what struck me more profoundly was mystery of the life form. Even Yoishi was a lifeform who came into this world through the stomach pains of someone somewhere. Such an obvious fact came rushing towards me as if I had never thought about it before. A feverish body. Shoulders that rise and fall slightly with each breath. And the faint sound of her heartbeat – I match my heartbeat to the heartbeat of Yoishi as a life form. I match my breathing. I slowly breathe in, and exhale deeply; I repeat the process. We became so synchronized in the darkness to the point where it felt as if Yoishi was breathing in the air I breathed out. And that brought me a deep sense of tranquility. It made me feel like I was not alone in this world, it was like it was telling me that I didn’t need to suffer all alone.

The next thing I knew, the fear in me had disappeared. As I matched Yoishi’s breathing, my eyelids closed silently - and I somehow drifted off into a peaceful, relaxed slumber.

Looking back, I don't know if it was a dream or what.

However, when I woke up the next day, there was no sign of any black stain floating in midair, and Yoishi was asleep in the loft; it was the beginning of just another normal day.

It was three days later, on a Wednesday afternoon, that I bumped into that elementary school girl who sold ghost photography.

My university lectures had just finished, and I was walking out the school gates, absentmindedly wondering whether I should kill time at the Beatnik society clubroom in the western building until it was time for my part-time job, or just hang out at a bookstore... when a voice called out to me.

“Good afternoon.”

I turned my head in the direction of the polite greeting to see the pony-tailed elementary school girl from that fast food restaurant on Sunday, smiling at me with a red school bag on her back.

“I see that Onii-san is also from Koumei High School, Are you a university student?”

I was surprised as I answered her cheerful and friendly manner of speaking.

“Oh, it’s you, kid. So, are you from a school near here?”

“It’s not kid, it’s Akane.”

“Hm?”

“My name is Akane Nanamori. I’m a sixth grader at the first Musashino Elementary School.”

“Is that so – I’m Yamada. Nagito Yamada.”

I stood out like a sore thumb talking to a girl as adorable as a child actor on TV in front of the university gates. Students passing by glared at me like I was some kind of pedophile.

“So, was there something you wanted?”

“Yes, I wanted to meet that Onee-san once more. That black tie and blazer was the Koumei school uniform, right? I think I'll go to this school too. Girls wearing ties is really lovely.”

“I don’t know if it’s what you’d call lovely or not, but, well, the affiliated high school is past these zelkova trees, just down the road.”

Akane smiled once more and said, “That's okay.”

“More importantly, Nagito-san. Do you have some time?”

“Me?”

“I'd like to talk to you a bit more.”

I was a little startled to hear her say that with a big grin on her face. That’s how fearless this girl was. She had the kind of amiability that jumps into the middle of people's hearts without warning.

“Ummm… My part-time job starts at 5.” I spoke. “Well… it’s fine if it’s up until then.”

The two of us briskly made our way to a park in a residential area nearby. It wasn’t particularly a big park with merely a sandbox, swings, and gym bars.

I bought a bottle of orange juice and some canned coffee at the vending machine at the entrance, handed over the orange juice to Akane, and as soon as I sat down on a bench there, was asked:

“Are you going out with that Onee-san?”

“….Hrrrk!”

I had just taken a gulp of coffee, and involuntarily choked at the unexpected question. As I frantically tried to spit out the coffee that had entered my windpipe, Akane spoke happily, flapping her legs back and forth.

“A university student and a high school girl from the affiliated school. It must be nice have a date on a Sunday.”

“…No, that’s not it. That might have been what you’d call a date, but me and Yoishi aren’t going out.”

“Is that so? But when that onee-san vomited in the restaurant, you sure took nice care of her. And you even cleaned up after her properly.”

“Saw that, did you?”

“When you throw up that much, everyone’s bound to see it.”

…Well, that might be the case. I concede as I take another gulp of coffee to calm the cough that had finally subsided.

“But that onee-san is really beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Well, maybe.”

“I was mesmerized by her at first. Her black hair is so silky smooth and beautiful, and she really does look cuter with her straight-cut bangs not covering her eyebrows.”

…Her hair might have looked beautiful now because I was the one washing it every three days, but if left alone, it would become stiff and shaggy in no time. And in the case of her bangs, she cuts them herself, the reason being that it’s troublesome if they cover her eyes.

“Ah, but that might be because of how she is. She’s fair, and has a nice figure, and the black tie really suits her in a gothic style.”

…Well, she might have a nice ass, but her breasts weren’t all that much, and her black tie just looked to me like she was going to funerals every day, wait— What the hell was I thinking? I thought to myself as I saw Akane speak ecstatically, and began to wonder if Yoishi held such appeal.

“Yeah, she looked so nice, and I thought to myself: I want to be like that. And then she suddenly looked my way and threw up with a blarghhh! That really shocked me.”

“She has a habit of spontaneously throwing up.”

“But it seems like she’s been able to see ghosts a lot longer than me, that’s amazing.”

“You’d be better off not being able to see those things.”

“Huh? Is it possible that you can see them too, Naigto-san?”

I replied in the negative and shook my head in response.

“I've seen things that I thought might be like that, but that might have been just my imagination. There is a word called ‘schema’, which means that even a stain on the ceiling can look like a person's face if you’re afraid of it.”

Akane's eyes widened in admiration as I arrogantly repeated the second-hand information I had heard from Krishna-san.

“Ooooh, it seems like you’ve been through a lot, Nagito-san. Tell me, tell me, have you been on many adventures with that onee-san? Next time you go, take me with you.”

“No way. It’s not what you’d call an adventure anyway. I’m always getting myself dragged into an awful mess.”

“…Is that so? At any rate, when that onee-san threw up, you dealt with it so lightning fast, right, Nagito-san? It was like you were born to be a puke janitor.”

…Hey!

“I thought that was so sweet of you and what a nice boyfriend you must be. The last time I got sick and threw up outside - I got scolded a lot.”

“…Huh?”

Taken aback, I asked her in reply.

“You were scolded… just for throwing up?”

“I guess my mother must have been embarrassed. She was all dressed up that day, and someone throwing up must have been disgusting, right? One time, there was this girl in my class who got sick in class and threw up, and the teacher got very angry.”

“No, but that's your own kid's or student's vomit, right? There's nothing wrong with that. Everyone gets sick sometimes. It's a normal reaction of the body trying to get rid of impurities.”

Akane reacted with a hmm, and looked at me seriously.

“Nagito-san, you really are a nice person.”

“I don’t really think I’m especially nice or anything.”

“Say, is it alright if I ask you something?”

Akane suddenly turned to me and held up one small finger.

“Tell me three words you think of when you hear the word『family』.”

“…Family? Why?”

“Just do it! The things that come to mind immediately. Don’t think!”

She rushed me, waving her hands impatiently; That’s right, she was still in elementary school, I had forgotten that due to her mature manner of speaking. Realizing that fact once more, I decided to go along with her demand.

“I got it. Emmm… three things, was it? First is --『tree』. Second is 『help』.And after that is, uhh…”

When I tried to think of a third word, that dark room suddenly sprang to mind. The word 『Fusuma』filled my head with bitter memories. But I shook my head to get rid of it, and remembered my mother's gentle smile with her eyes partially closed, and spoke:

“『Relief』, I guess.”

Akane looked at me in fascination for a while, and said, “Oh, well.” She seemed to have guessed that I had replaced that last word in the end, I squirmed uncomfortably on the bench before repositioning myself and asked:

“So, what's this all about?”

“What do you mean by ‘tree’?”

“Ah, I guess I said that because my family’s in the lumber business.”

“Oh, I see. So the ‘help’ you spoke of next referred to helping out your family with their work since you were a child. Then we come to the ‘relief’ you mentioned. That one alone seemed somewhat artificial, but, it’s fine, I’ll let it pass. I’m sure the real answer lies within Nagito-san’s heart.”

“….Oof.”

“You see, the order of these word associations is supposed to go from ‘pleasant’ to ‘unpleasant’. In short, the most positive image of the family first comes to mind, followed by the most negative. Of course, there are children who think of negative words first. Like me.”

“…What did you think of?”

“Hell, Cleaning – Maze.”

Akane spoke those words, and grinned once more.

But this time, the smile was lonely, resembling a lost child desperately trying to find the place they belonged.

“Say.” I asked: “Why ‘Kokkuri-san’ – or was it ‘Dear Nostradamus-sama’? Why were you playing something like that? Were you searching for something?”

“Nothing, really.”

Akane spoke with indifference, as she swung both legs back and forth.

“Nothing? Then don’t do it. Nothing good comes from playing ‘Kokkuri-san’.”

“I know. But I was told in class that there are no such things as ghosts. They called me a liar. That’s why I had to prove it. There are many things that elementary school kids have to deal with.”

“….”

As I gazed at her lonely profile from the side—

Well, that’s true, I was convinced. When I think about it now, something like cliques existed in my elementary school years. There was definitely a world of children, A place that existed in the absence of adults.

“Then, were you able to prove it?”

“Yeah, they stopped calling me a liar.”

“…Is that so?”

“But…”

“…Hm?”

“They're all afraid of me now.”

Suddenly –

As she muttered that, Akane’s profile became perfectly transparent. I reflexively rubbed my eyes and looked once more. Her skin, her capillary vessels dissolved in the air, only the faint vestiges of the elementary school student known as Akane Nanamori remained—

I found myself reaching out with my fingertips and poking Akane a little on the cheek with a plop.

“Whaa…?”

“Ah, sorry.”

“…Y-Yamada-san, Nagito-san, are you a pervert? You prefer little girls?”

“NO! It just looked like you were about to disappear. I mean, it really did.”

“I won’t disappear! I’m not about to!”

“My bad. Sorry. No, you know Yoishi said— I mean that high school girl from the other day, she said she couldn't see your head, or something like that, so maybe I just felt that way.”

“…That onee-san said that?”

Akane then nodded in a strangely impressed manner and hesitated for a moment before asking.

“Say, is it alright if I ask you something?”

“…Hm?”

“That onee-san, is she dead? Did she die once somewhere?”

“…What?”

“I can tell. People like her. Because they’re cut off. Their body and soul.”

“Umm, well…actually…”

With my hands on my knees, I decided to ask her. I don’t know if it was something prudent to ask an elementary school kid, but I wanted to know the opinion of a person involved with the world beyond, whether it was an elementary school kid or a girl, no matter how trivial their opinion was.

“Do you think a person like that can be saved?”

“…Saved?”

“Ah, by saved, I don’t mean to sound outlandish or anything, I just wanna know if you can help them smile and go on with their lives?”

Akane started her answer with "I don't know, but..." and continued.

“I don’t think it's a problem that Nagito-san can do anything about.”

“What do you mean?”

“Unless that onee-san wants to be saved, it’s not going to happen.”

Frustrated, I ruffled my hair, and spoke:

“That’s the thing I can never be sure of. Is she giving me a sign that she wants to come back? If she really had no attachments to this world, she would have died long before I could do anything about it. But I can't help but feel that her attraction to the occult is a different kind of impulse. I don't think someone’s eyes shine like that when they’re rushing to their death.”

“Aah—”

Akane gave a mature smile in response and replied:

“She might just be… giving it a try.”

“A try?”

When I asked her that, Akane said ‘Yeah’, and gave a lonely smile in response.

“Because I'm the same.”