The Piper at the Gates of Dawn
Echoes was walking through town. His eyes were vacant, his hair was a mess, and his buttons were undone. He staggered along.
The sky was dark. It was colder than it had been all day. The air was clear, free of moisture. Dawn was approaching.
“…………”
Echoes moved his legs forward, as if powered by some external force, dazed. He had no idea where he was going. He just felt that walking was better than standing still.
The streets were quiet. Nothing moved except a gentle breeze, but it made no sound. Echoes’ footsteps produced the only sounds he could hear.
“…………”
Echoes stopped walking. He looked blankly at his surroundings.
How long had he been here? He couldn’t remember. This did not seem like where he should have been.
Nothing moved. No one was around.
There were countless fractures in the pavement. Rubble was piled everywhere. Most of the buildings were broken, collapsed, or ready to topple over.
It was a desolate landscape.
“…………”
Yet there were no cries of sorrow. No mangled bodies. There were no people anywhere.
Instead, there were only ruined buildings as far as he could see.
Everywhere he went he found destruction. Not once did he find anything moving, hear any voices, or see any signs of life.
Even now, the only motion came from the pre-dawn air drifting past him.
“…………”
Echoes began walking again. As he walked, he tried to remember. What was he doing here?
He should not exist. His body had turned to particles, dissolved into nothing. So why was he wandering aimlessly through these ruins?
“…………”
On he walked.
He had wandered like this before, but back then, he had had a purpose. And there had been a girl on the street who had reached her hand out to him.
She was not here anymore.
Nobody was.
***
As he walked, the sky began to lighten. Dawn was coming.
“…………”
He looked blankly up at the feeble light.
And then, from somewhere far away, he heard music. It was not a mechanical broadcast but rather a thin whistle blown by someone nearby.
“…………!”
Echoes ran in the direction of the sound.
He ran and ran, passing ruin after ruin, the sound growing steadily louder, clearer. There were no other sounds and so the faint tune had carried a considerable distance.
At last Echoes reached what must once have been a very large structure, judging from the size of the mountain of rubble—the corpse of a building.
A black shadow sat on top of the mountain, whistling to itself. It wore a large hat shaped like a black stovepipe and its body was wrapped in a black cloak. There was black lipstick on its pale face.
In profile, the face looked rather lonely.
“…Ah,” Echoes said. He wasn’t sure if the person was male or female. “Who are you?”
The shadow turned toward Echoes. “I hope the whistling didn’t bother you,” it said, with mock innocence. The voice was like a boy’s, and yet like a girl’s.
“No, not at all,” Echoes said, shaking his head. He decided to ask a different question. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask the same. Who are you? Why are you here, in the world after destruction?”
“My name is Echoes,” he said.
“Oh?” the cloaked figure said, pursing his lips. “So you’re Echoes!”
“…You know me?” Echoes asked, surprised.
The stranger answered warmly, “You’re friends with Kamikishiro Naoko, right? The person who came here from someplace else.”
“I’m impressed,” Echoes said. “That’s exactly right.”
The dark figure shrugged. “Kirima Nagi and Niitoki Kei told me about you. It seems we have a lot in common.” Then it cocked its head. “I also heard about your mission. So, Echoes…tell me. In the end, which did you choose?”
Echoes just shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Oh?”
“I…” Echoes began, then hesitated for a moment. “…I was previously unable to speak to people. I believe I’m only able to do so now because I am just a shadow. I’m only an echo of myself, lingering on. I’m not really the one who was called Echoes. Thus, I don’t know what he decided. His decision is headed somewhere very far away, speeding away forever.”
The cloaked figure nodded. “That makes sense. That explains why you are here in this distortion. You were wandering the gaps of space, and you happened to synchronize with this one.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Boogiepop.”
“You have a strange name.”
“As do you. But yours is a good name, very poetic,” Boogiepop said, winking.
Echoes looked gloomy. “The method by which I earned this name was not so pleasant.”
“But not all your memories of that name are unpleasant, are they? There were people who happily called you by that name.”
Echoes shook his head. “That was not me. Those happy memories belong to the real Echoes, long since gone. I am merely an echo of him. I have done nothing to earn the honor of being loved.”
“I see… you don’t have an easy time of it either, do you?” Boogiepop said, sympathetic.
“And you? How did you come to get your name?”
“Oh,” Boogiepop said, with a strange, crooked, half-smiling, half-mocking expression. “That’s a long story. Do you have time to hear it, Echoes-kun?”
Echoes smiled ruefully. “Time no longer has any meaning for me. I can listen to all the stories you have to tell.”
“I see. Then let me begin by telling you about the scarecrow.”
“The what?”
“The scarecrow. A straw man used to keep crows away…”