Case 00: Yoishi (3)

I was vehemently against it of course, but M had firmly made up her mind. Late at night, after she made sure her family had gone to sleep, she began to change to an inconspicuous black shirt and black skirt.

“Come with me.”

M whispered as she crammed a pocket light, together with me – who was the stuffed frog, inside her pocket. It seemed she wanted it as a good-luck charm. And I had no choice but to accompany her.

“If Kii-chan really is inside the school late at night…”

M spoke as she silently locked the front door of the house.

“I feel like maybe there’s something she wants to tell me…”

(…Well, about that. Ghosts usually have some kind of lingering attachment to this world, but there are also incomprehensible ones like me who wander around aimlessly, and in today's world, there are dangerous individuals with an abnormal inclination for little girls. It is not advisable to leave the house alone at midnight.)

I desperately tried to make her listen, but M kept her lips pursed as she silently made her way to the elementary school.

It was past 1 am late at night.

In the town where a series of strange incidents had occurred in rapid succession, only a few people roamed the streets at night. M walked alone in the quiet town, which was bathed in only the pale moonlight. When a patrol car doing its rounds passed by, she quietly hid in the shadows of a telephone pole, let it pass by before hurrying to the elementary school at night.

Kii-chan’s body was discovered at the bottom of the pool by a gym faculty member who came to clean it in the morning. Kii-chan was in her normal skirt dress, and it was not yet known if she went there late at night, or in the evening when people had left. Did she slip and fall – or did someone drop her in? Whatever the case, it was a mystery, as Kii-chan was said to be a good swimmer. 

In addition, there was another news report that raised a question. Kii-chan had left the house saying, “There’s something I have to look into”. Kii-chan liked books and often went to the library, so her mother didn’t seem to have any misgivings at the time. However, on that day, Kii-chan wasn’t seen in the municipal library nor in the school’s library. What gave more credence to that testimony was that Kii-chan was a little famous at the library for borrowing books so often. What in the world was Kii-chan trying to look into? And why did she go to the swimming pool instead of the library?

The public was focused on that point – but M and I had another idea.

“If it was Kii-chan, I think she would have gone to the library.”

….

“…If it was the real Kii-chan, that is.”

The elementary school we reached at last, towered as a black shadow in the darkness.

--Eeeeek.

Why do schools look so creepy late at night? I hesitated when looking into the other side of the classroom window. The darkness between the curtains makes me think I'm about to see something terrible, freezing my legs in place. That’s right, even ghosts are afraid of scary things. Cars that overtake me at a reckless speed scare me, large dogs that bark like crazy make me jump, and late-night TV horror specials give me goosebumps. Whether dead or alive, what people fear is the same.

“Isn’t… there someplace that’s unlocked?”

M spoke as she tried to open classroom windows here and there, but the locked windows would not budge. She eventually muttered, ‘I got it,’ and ran off somewhere with the light pointed down at her feet.

It was a sort of passageway that seemed to connect the main school building to the gymnasium. After climbing down to the passageway from outside, M approached the school building.

“A boy in my class told me. He said that the window lock here was broken and loose.”

As she said that, she creaked the window open with her small and slender hands.

As we crossed over the windowsill and descended into the school building, a painful silence greeted us.

The elementary school we went to almost every day was always full of hustle and bustle to the point of being noisy. Was it because of that? I felt the presence of several people in the air even though it was late at night, even though no one was supposed to be there. The dim red light from the emergency lamps appeared, and only the light from the moon shone in through the window.

M slowly made her way down the corridor, holding a light in her left hand, and me (the stuffed frog) in her right hand.

She proceeded straight to her classroom on the first floor, and creaked open the sliding door.

The interior was dark, with a faint light pouring in through the gap in the curtains. Thirty small chairs and desks were evenly aligned to face the teacher’s desk.

“…Kii-chan?”

M called out in a small whisper.

But, of course, there was no one to answer. There was no sound, only the lukewarm midsummer air filled the surroundings.

Before I’d realized… I was standing next to M. I didn’t quite know why I came outside the stuffed frog. But for some reason, an extreme sense of nostalgia suddenly overflowed within me.

I felt – like I once walked with someone in the endless darkness.

I kept stepping into a forbidden world I was not allowed to go to.

Somewhere moldy, dusty, dark and cramped. I was in fear of something lurking in that darkness, and I was always brought to tears. And then I would always blurt out the same line. “Hey, let’s stop.” In response, the someone beside me would say something back. In a cold, clear voice, like the ringing of a bell, it would ask a question in return. What were those words --- Ah, it was no use. I couldn’t remember. At any rate, those words would shake the earth on which I stood, and made me feel as if I was still only at the gateway to true terror.

However… did I really hate that from the bottom of my heart?

No, it was like I was having fun somehow. It felt as if my heart was pounding with excitement when I ventured forth into a forbidden world together with that person. It felt as if there was someone desperately trying to stop me from going to those places, but I would always shake them off and leap into the paranormal. It was a strange, grotesque and fascinating world, like returning to one's mother's womb, or submerging oneself in a bottomless, tepid liquid--

As I thought that, I heard footsteps.

M had left the classroom, and headed to the corridor. I ran after her in a panic.

“It might be somewhere else.”

Her strained voice echoed in the corridor, as M aimed her light at the stairs.

(--Say, it might be too late to ask, but…)

I spoke the thoughts that had been bugging me for a long time.

(Why did such a rumor spread?)

Of course, my voice didn’t reach M so it was almost completely monologue, but disregarding that, I continued to speak.

(Kii-chan drowned in the pool, didn’t she? Then the fact that she died in the pool, and based on my experience, it would be normal to think that she would be close the pool after death and be thinking, “Why am I in a place like this?” If that were the case, isn’t it strange that the rumor became, “Kii-chan’s ghost appeared in the elementary classroom late at night”, rather than “Kii-chan’s ghost appeared in the pool”.)

I had muttered that far to myself when a cold ran through my back.

--No… wait a minute. In the first place, who started that rumor? I heard it from M, but who did M hear it from? Only janitors or teachers on duty are likely to be walking around in primary school classrooms late at night. So, did the janitors or teachers start it? But, was that a rumor the school staff would spread at a time like this? It hadn’t even been two days since the funeral, and would they start that kind of imprudent rumor….?

I had thought that far when something even colder crawled down my back.

That’s right… this too is what you would call a sense of unease. Sako said it as well. In both the Tengu incident and the beheading incident, someone added a sense of unease at the scene of the crime. The scenes of ordinary suicides became bizarre because of that.

“—Hey, M. Who did you hear this rumor from?”

However, the moment I was about to place my hand on M’s shoulder to ask her the question.

“The truly scary stories, are inconsistent in some way.”

In the darkness, M muttered just a few words.

“That’s why, if it was consistent – then I’m sure it won’t be scary anymore.”

Gazing at her beautiful, pale, tensed profile – Ah, I realized.

--Even M was scared.

It was no wonder. There was no one who would willingly want to go to an elementary school late at night. But because Kii-chan was said to be there – because it was the girl who was her best friend, M went to all the trouble of coming here at a time like this.

“I still haven’t said goodbye... And I haven’t even thanked Kii-chan… for all the things she did for me.”

I could say nothing in response to her broken, hoarse cries.

M was that kind of girl. There were times when she tried so hard to convey her true feelings in speech, where she became unable to say anything at all in the end. There must have been times when she thought of herself as unpleasant, and there must have been times when she wanted to cry. In such a world, Kii-chan was the only one M could convey her true thoughts to. The only one who tried to understand M, and the only who actually did understand her.

A feeling of shame together with a strange feeling overflowed from within me as I witnessed the brave feelings of a six-year-old girl who was trying her best to move forward step by step with her frail legs.

Perhaps it was a kind of courage.

Before I’d realized, I was walking right alongside M. I decided that no matter what would happen from here on, I would stay by her side. I mean, of course I intended to be by her side all the way, but I felt that it was the feeling of being close to her physical body. Rather, I had made up my mind to be close to M's clear feelings, no matter what. My doubts about whether I could physically do anything to protect her would go on endlessly, and to be honest, my knees were trembling with fear, but despite that, this was all the sincerity I could muster. At the very least, I had the pride to not be walking behind a girl this young.

However, as if to crush my spirits, I heard a crunching noise echo in the corridor, as if a twig had been stepped on.

With a start, I looked up ahead, feeling as if something ahead in the corridor had moved. My heart, which was supposed to have stopped, began throbbing violently.

The thumping pulsations were rapidly increasing. Were these… pulsations supposed to be that? A type of phantom limb – in short, the psychological condition where a person who has lost his arm still feels an itchiness where the arm was supposed to be.

It felt as if the darkness in the corridor ahead had become even stronger.

If I recalled correctly, the staircase lay up ahead – but right now, I was certain.

It felt as if something was ascending those stairs.

(H…hey, let’s give up.)

I looked at M from the side and said that, as expected.

--Public elementary schools generally have a long history. In that long history, who knows how many students ended up dying without graduating. I imagined that in the event that those children didn’t understand that they were dead, they would surely end up repeating their usual behaviors. I imagined that they would continue going to elementary school as if nothing had happened. That was how I acted. Every day, I would lie down in front of the station. I would merely repeat the same actions in the same place – and eventually I realized the meaninglessness of my actions. And at some point, the line of my feelings would be cut off. Unable to be recognized by anyone would eventually lead to the thread of my soul being cut off. From there on was a world I couldn’t peek at, but…however, it felt that the moment beings like ourselves with only our hearts get completely painted in pitch black – is the moment we transform into something. That was what I feared above all else. I was afraid of the moment my heart would be crushed.

“…I’m going.”

But M, who stopped in her tracks the same time as me, eventually took one step forward.

“Kii-chan… is my friend.”

Her voice shook as she whispered that, as if trying to persuade herself. With her light aimed at the stairs, she slowly began to walk, and I had no choice but to follow.

When we arrived at the stairs, M aimed her light in all four cardinal directions. It’s obvious to say it, but there was no one there. The sound of footsteps couldn’t clearly be heard—but it seemed M had noticed it. She suddenly looked up with her well-shaped chin at the floor above.

Upstairs. The second floor.

Something… was walking.

I gulped. Goosebumps ran all over my body with a feeling that embodied rejection.

“…Let’s go.”

Saying that, M tightly squeezed the stuffed frog, and placed one foot on the stairs.

If I recalled correctly, the second floor was supposed to have classrooms for the second and third-year students. Whatever the case, there wasn’t supposed to be anybody there at this hour. If there was anyone, then it might have been one of the janitors – and if it was one of the janitors, then they should have had a light. There was no way they would be walking around blending into this pitch-black darkness.

My feet were completely frozen in their tracks, but M made her way up the stairs step by step.

As if encouraged by the squeaky sound of her sneakers, I also managed to move my legs somehow.

When I reached the second-floor corridor, I found M standing in the dark corridor aiming her light ahead, her feet stopped in place.

It felt as if the darkness had thickened even further. No, it appeared that the darkness itself had transformed into something alien.

--In the first place, did things like ghosts even exist?

That question suddenly appeared in my mind. Not setting aside my own existence, if I was weak signals merely peering back into stored data of the past – then I wonder if there are ghosts wandering around in this world as a mass of resentment?

“…Kii-chan?”

Once more, M's trembling, whispering voice echoed through the school building at night.

“It’s me… I’m coming to you now.”

She eventually muttered as if she had made up her mind and moved her feet forward.

The corridor we were in was separated from the classrooms by a glass window and a sliding door. She opened the sliding doors, peered into the classrooms one-by-one, and called out. However, all of the classrooms were merely dark, with no hint of anyone inside.

After peering into several classrooms, we arrived at the last remaining classroom at the end of the second floor. M was about to place her hands on the sliding door – when it suddenly felt as if something was fluttering beyond the glass window. With a jump, I placed my hand on M’s shoulder, as if to tell her to stop. As expected, it slipped through – however, it seemed my intention was somehow conveyed through to her as a premonition.

“…”

With her pale hand placed on the handle of the sliding door, M stopped her movements.

She pursed her well-shaped lips together, and her throat moved stiffly.

Thereafter, she spoke in a silent whisper.

“…This classroom… it feels like there’s something horrible inside.”

I nodded vigorously in response to those words.

I saw a bead of sweat appear on M’s forehead.

“It’s just a thought, but…”

…Ahh.

“…Since I’m getting a horrible feeling – then I think it’s probably not Kii-chan who’s inside.”

…Eh?

“If it was Kii-chan, she definitely wouldn’t hate me.”

--Ah, that’s right. Humans can have a hunch on those sorts of emotions about their fellow humans. The feeling when the other party seems to hate them, or when the atmosphere is awkward. And a ghost is the very same human that’s merely invisible, and because the other party hates you when they do -- then in this world where the visibility is hazy, it might be possible for sensitive people to understand such things.

“Let’s… not go in here.”

The moment M whispered that.

The sound of a piano reverberated from somewhere.

M stopped in her tracks, and without thinking, I ended up hiding behind her, bringing great shame to myself. The two of us were frozen in place, unable to move, when I felt something flutter again at the edge of my vision.

“There’s a music room on the third floor.”

When I came to my senses at the sound of M's voice, she was already walking away.

“Kii-chan was learning to play the piano. And she was good at singing as well.”

In a panic, I ran after her.

“She might be trying to tell me that it’s this way.”

M said that… but I realized the same thing in a completely different way.

The fluttering thing at the edge of my vision from before – wasn’t it a hand?

Countless white hands were floating in the air, driving us away by saying, ‘this isn’t it’, ‘not this way’.

I was chasing after M's back, but I couldn't help but be concerned about what was behind me. I could feel countless gazes pressing down on my back. If I were to look back now, I couldn’t help but feel I would see countless faces drawn close together gazing at me from the other side of that classroom’s glass window. There was a luring temptation, as if a tenacious hand was grasping my hair and trying to get me to turn around.

As I clung to M’s back as we went up the stairs – I was unable to regain my sense of equilibrium. It felt as if the floor, the world, was on a gentle slope.

When we arrived at the third floor, the darkness was something that couldn’t be called darkness anymore.

Even though the light from the moon was pouring in through the windows of the corridor—the darkness was strong. As if it had turned into the black of the deep sea, with the presence of countless abnormalities contained within. However, as if cutting through the darkness, M aimed her light. Whispering “Kii-chan” in a low voice, she moved ahead step by step. She didn’t bother looking into each class anymore. Her gaze was fixed at the end of the corridor, to the music room located at the far end of the school building.

I was already cowering, following M right behind her as if gripping her clothes. I had none of the composure necessary to bravely stand by her side. I hated this place to the point where I would have run away a long time ago if I was alone. Without a doubt, there was something up ahead.

Eventually, standing in front of the music room door, M took a deep breath.

And then – without hesitation, she creaked the door open. At that moment – it might have been a phantom smell, not a phantom limb, I felt a putrid odor hanging in the air. The music room was surrounded by a soundproof wall, and a double-glazed window. Beethoven, Liszt, Bach, Mahler, Mozart. The walls were decorated with portraits of musicians who were no longer alive. There was a black grand piano in the center of the room, it glittered in the reflection of M’s aimed light.

“…Kii-chan?”

Something answered M’s call.

In the darkness, it felt as if a deep hole had opened.

“…Kii-chan? It’s you, isn’t it…?”

M called out, but pathetically, I couldn’t look anymore.

However, I felt it at the edge of my vision. Someone’s gaze in the dense, spacious darkness.

“Kii-chan… There you are.”

M’s voice turned into a sob.

“…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry… I couldn’t do anything…”

No one answered those words. Only a lukewarm presence enshrouded us as if in the depths of a swamp.

I took a deep breath, and fixed my gaze in front of me. I could see someone floating next to the piano. I made eye contact with the thing that floated there. And then, faced with that dark hole in the air, I realized.

--This is… me.

It was the same vacant expression I had as I lay there in front of the station after realizing I had died. I grit my teeth once more after seeing how sad and transient a ghost is – in front of a gaze that had given up on everything and despaired of everything. It was enough to bring even me, devoid of emotion as I was, to the point of tears. The gaze that seemed to be looking our way, and yet, was not. To be unable to influence this world in any way. To be in constant pain, and yet, to not be offered help by anyone. And what was worse: to be feared, shunned, and kept away from.

When I was alive – I feel I feared death for a long, long time.

At the same time, I felt fear at the existence that roamed this world even after death.

But now that I’m finally dead, it’s more anticlimactic than I imagined. The scenery I view is the same as when I was alive. My thoughts and my behavioral patterns have more or less stayed the same. Even ghosts are scared of scary things, and the things that made me happy are still the same. However, the absolute thing that clings to them is the incomparable sense of loneliness. Fear, happiness, sadness – all of these feelings cannot be shared with anyone else.

“They desperately seek meaning.”

The words I had once heard somewhere from someone came to mind.

I still couldn’t recall who that was, but it was probably the truth. If God really does exist, why did he create a system like this? Wouldn’t it have been far better, to end everything once someone had died—

That’s right, as I thought to myself as I scratched my hair, it happened.

I suddenly felt something in the depths of the sad gaze that looked my way. It felt as if that vacant gaze which seemed to have given up on everything, still had a faint wish that remained. It seemed she had something she wanted to convey to us – no, to M?

--What is it? Is there something… you want to say?

After having given up on everything, what is your wish? Do you want to die properly? Or are you trying to say farewell to M, your best friend in life?

No…

No, it was different.

It was, something else. Kii-chan has given up on living and dying properly, but that was not what she was giving up on now.

“…Kii-chan, you must have been so scared all alone.”

M was sobbing in tears, as she painfully pieced together the words.

“I noticed it but didn’t say anything….no… I noticed it, but thought that such a thing wasn’t possible…I’m so sorry…”

In response to her words, it felt as if her sluggish eyes opened ever so slightly. A voice echoed in my head, as if it were a noise, as if it were a Buddhist prayer.

“…I’m sorry…I’m sorry, Kii-chan…I don’t know what you want to say to me.”

However, M asked, as if shouting.

“Why, did you die? Why… did you go to the pool alone? Were you really the Kii-chan I knew before you died?”

M cried out as something that could hardly be called a rumbling sound filled the music room.

“Who was that thing inside Kii-chan?”

--That was it.

That was the thing I, the old detective guy, and possibly that bastard Sako wanted to ask.

And if the one who ‘used to be Kii-chan’, who was here now could still talk – if she could somehow convey to M through her words. Then the words she would tell us would surely lead us on a path which would go somewhere. But – why was it I wonder? I didn’t know if listening to that was the right thing to do. Hearing the words ‘Takamura’ being spoken would bring me hopeless despair.

However—

“…Eh?”

In the tense atmosphere, M looked up.

“…Yo….ishi?”

……….

“Was that the person inside Kii-chan? Who… is Yoishi?”

Yoishi--- Yoishi?*

Why... did the mere mention of the word... make me remember the kanji?

That was because… I knew it.

That’s right, I certainly knew that name.

It was a name very close to me – a name that should have been familiar to me as that of family.