Chapter V
Chapter V
When he first set eyes on the individual who had just transferred into his third year junior high class, Anou Shinjirou felt like someone had grabbed him by the heart. It was love at first sight.
“My name’s Taniguchi Masaki. It’s nice to meet you all,” the new boy said, and gave a gentle smile. Shinjirou thought he was going to fall into those eyes. He could barely breathe; his throat was dry.
But a moment later, all the girls in class shrieked, and he was jolted back to reality.
(What am I thinking…?)
Until that moment, Shinjirou had believed himself to be just a normal ordinary boy. No sirree, nothing particularly unusual about him—which is why he didn’t understand the feelings being born inside him at that very moment.
“He’s not so great…” the guy behind him muttered, watching Taniguchi Masaki grin weakly back at the lovesick, squealing girls.
Shinjirou quickly exclaimed, “Y-yeah, I hate him already.” The moment the words left his mouth, he was certain they were true. He hated the guy. That was all.
And yet every time he looked at Masaki, his chest began to pound. What could that mean?
Taniguchi Masaki was still bowing, saying “Hello,” and giving everyone a vague, embarrassed smile. Shinjirou didn’t think it suited his handsome features at all, but all the girls just kept yelling stuff like “Oh, wow!,” and “He’s so cute!”
He couldn’t stop himself from feeling immensely irritated. The very sight of Masaki giving his feeble little friendly smile was unbearably unpleasant for him.
Shinjirou shouted inside himself, Stop doing that! Stop smiling!! It’s not right!!! An incomprehensible urge to strangle Masaki fluttered deep in his heart.
***
Taniguchi Masaki was soon idolized by almost all the girls in the school.
For starters, the boy should have been going to a much better school than this one. On top of that, everyone was right in the middle of exams, so the girls bombarded Masaki all at once with pleas to check their homework. He hardly ever refused, and as a result, he was almost always surrounded by throngs of ladies whenever he was at school.
(Shit…)
Shinjirou spied the action all from the desolate safety of his far corner seat. It was clear that every glare he gave in Masaki’s direction was always filled with icy anger and resentment.
If only he could talk to Masaki like that…he found himself thinking.
“Doesn’t he just piss you off?” the guy next to him would ask.
“Mm?” he started, turning towards his classmate.
The guy nodded, “I know how you feel, man. Guy pisses me off to no end.”
“Y-yeah…” Shinjirou had, somehow, become the boy in school who hated Masaki the most. Despite never having actually fought with him, he’d somehow earned that reputation.
And thus, all the girls hated him.
“What the hell is Anou’s problem?”
“Oh, he’s just jealous.”
“Never heard of anything so pathetic.”
Their whispers were easily overheard and only served to direct his anger even more.
Even Masaki thought Shinjirou hated him. That blow was the one that hurt Shinjirou the most.
But he still didn’t understand his own feelings.
He couldn’t work out why Taniguchi Masaki preyed on his mind like this. The conscious knowledge that they were the same gender prevented him from grasping the true nature of his all too obvious emotions. His previous lack of interest in other men besides Masaki was another big reason for his sudden confusion.
His environment didn’t give him the latitude to work things out. Even if he had understood the true nature of his feelings, there was nowhere and no one he could ever go to where those feelings would be accepted.
If his classmates found out, he would be shunned. They already didn’t like him much, and if they knew…he would be considered less than human.
If his parents found out, they’d disown him or worse…haul him off to a psychiatric ward.
Shinjirou’s mind was a thunderstorm of confusion and doubt. Fear of the unknown meant he couldn’t act on his feelings. As a result, he made no real attempt to ever sort things out.
But despite his ignorance, the feelings kept surging up inside him, unconsciously causing him pain.
He wanted to talk to Masaki. He wanted to be near him. He didn’t know why, but he knew he had no choice.
(Aahhhhhhh…!!!)
Miserable, he began yelling at people for absolutely no reason, he disobeyed his teachers at every turn, and he got into full-blown fist fights over the most trivial things.
Then one day, the pressure got too much for him, and he managed to convince all of his club’s kouhai into mounting an assault on Masaki. They all had a grudge against “Study Abroad”—Taniguchi Masaki—to begin with, so they didn’t need much persuading.
“Heh heh—let’s do it.”
“That asshole’s been on my shit list for a while.”
“We’ll show him how far his pretty face can take him.”
“Good,” Shinjirou grinned—but in fact, he was planning to burst onto the scene and rescue Masaki.
He wanted to make friends with him. If this gave him a chance to do that, then he didn’t care what crap he had to take from his kouhai afterwards—his emotions left him no choice.
This “strategy” went into motion a few days later after school.
They followed Masaki on his usual trip home, and when Masaki ducked into his usual back alley shortcut to the train station, Shinjirou signaled to his five kouhai—“Go for it.”
The five boys quickly snuck into the deserted alley. By the time Masaki realized he was being followed, it was too late…he was already surrounded.
“So, Mr. Study Abroad. You’ve been doing pretty well for yourself, haven’t ya?” It was obvious they were trying to sound tough.
But things didn’t progress as Shinjirou had originally hoped. He had been so sure that Masaki would be scared out of his wits that he never considered the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Masaki would instead take the scenario in stride and be totally calm and collected. “Right…I’ll be more careful,” Masaki replied, just standing there and accepting their aggression.
They threatened him, they pushed him, but no matter what they said…his response was completely serene.
(——?)
Watching this from the sidelines, Shinjirou started to fret. Ladies’ men weren’t supposed to act like this.
Eventually one of his kouhai lost his temper and let loose, punching Masaki in the cheek.
(Ah—!)
Shinjirou almost shrieked. He had never planned to let it go that far. He quickly stepped forward, intending to intervene…
But something happened.
A girl appeared, entering the alley from the side opposite to where Shinjirou was hiding.
“What is your purpose?” she said, her voice empty, dispassionate. “What failing of his caused this behavior?” She spoke like a windup doll.
(Wh-who the hell is she?)
Shinjirou gaped at her, completely blowing the timing of his entrance.
“Hey, this guy thinks he’s Don Juan,” his kouhai snarled, switchblade in hand. “Looking like this, tricking girls into falling for him.”
“So, he stole your girlfriends, then? The cause of your anger is sexual frustration?” What in the world was this girl’s problem?!
“Uh…what? What did she say?”
“I’m asking if this attack is a way of forgetting that your sexual partners all hate you.”
“You…bitch!”
The situation was rapidly spiraling in a sinister direction. Shinjirou didn’t know what to do, and he couldn’t force himself out of hiding.
As if things weren’t confusing enough already, the girl suddenly tore her own shirt off and stood there bare-chested.
“If you have frustrated desires, I can fulfill them,” she said in the most deadpan voice. This girl was out of freaking control.
“Uuuum…”
“H-hey…”
“Whoa! Wait a minute,” Masaki yelped, flustered. He had been totally unfazed when he himself was in danger, but once the girl got mixed up in it, his attitude changed.
Watching this, Shinjirou thought, Oh, crap!
He knew he’d made a terrible mistake.
Quickly, he took a step forward, but even as he did, someone even stranger appeared on the scene.
“Well, this is easy to figure out!”
A young man in white clothes, positively exuding confidence, strode directly into the alley.
“—! Wh-who are you?!”
“Just to make sure, I’d better ask. You there.” He pointed at Masaki. “Do you want to save this girl?”
Masaki nodded, “Y-yes.”
“Then take her and run!”
With lightning speed, the man pulled the girl out of the ring of kouhai and shoved her towards Masaki.
Taking the man at his word, Masaki took the girl’s arm, and fled the scene.
(Wahhh?!)
Shinjirou was horrified. They were running straight towards him.
But they were going too fast and ran right past him without ever noticing that he was there.
(Wh-what’s going on?)
He was a little relieved, but now more confused than ever. Things were playing out in a way that bore no resemblance to his original plans, and he could no longer follow anything.
He looked back at the man in white, and somehow, all his kouhai had already been defeated, and were lying in a bloody heap on the ground.
“Eeek!” Shinjirou let out a little shriek, and the man turned towards him.
“Can’t say I think much of your methods,” the man said, like he had been well aware that Shinjirou had been hiding there all along.
The man smiled. It was a villainous, heartless smile.
“Aaaaugh!” Shinjirou ran for it.
He ran as hard as he could, not stopping until he reached the square by the side of the station.
Feeling safe, he relaxed…and realized that Masaki and the girl were sitting together on a bench on the other side of the square.
“Ah…!” he wailed.
He had been right.
It was obvious that they were drawn to each other—especially Masaki, whose heart had been stolen by the girl. It was written all over his face. He’d never looked like that at school, all red faced and smiling.
“…………!”
In that very moment, Shinjirou felt all of the energy drain out of his body.
***
A few days afterwards, Masaki went on a date with the girl. Shinjirou watched from the shadows, having followed after Masaki every day since the incident.
(Augh…)
He ground his teeth as he watched the couple head for the movie theater. Masaki appeared to be quite surprised by how crowded the theater was.
They talked for a moment, apparently arguing.
(Oooh…)
Shinjirou waited hopefully. The girl joined the line on her own, leaving Masaki just standing there.
After a moment, Masaki turned and walked towards the main road.
Pleased by this turn of events, Shinjirou quickly followed after him.
Masaki looked all around as he walked, as if searching for some place in particular. With his heart pounding, Shinjirou took this opportunity to walk over to Masaki and speak to him. “Oh, Study Abroad. What are you doing here?” His tone was rather aggressive, out of habit.
“Ah, um, you know,” Masaki replied, scrunching up his face unhappily.
Shrinking back from this reception, Shinjirou said, “Yeah, I do. You’re making some chick wait for you, huh?”
But Masaki just answered, “Sorry, in kind of a hurry,” and rushed off.
“Ah…!” Shinjirou wondered where he was going, but Masaki just ducked into a fast food place, and after a few minutes, popped out with a large paper bag and some drinks, and headed back to where the girl was waiting in line.
They began happily munching away on their burgers.
“…………”
As Shinjirou watched vacantly, the girl suddenly kissed Masaki. To be strictly accurate, it wasn’t technically a kiss—she had actually licked off a blob of ketchup from Masaki’s cheek with her tongue—but to Shinjirou, this sudden display was far more erotic than any old kiss.
“…………”
Shinjirou’s face turned white as a sheet. He was trembling.
Unable to take any more, he turned and fled.
***
“Ah, that’d be Orihata. She’s in our school, yeah.”
Shinjirou had called everyone he knew, trying to find out the girl’s name. And now he had it. He had the hateful name of his archenemy’s girlfriend—Orihata Aya. The very name only drew more questions. “What’s she like?!” he urged.
On the other end of the line, a friend of his from elementary school hesitated, “Um… Well…” Then he sniggered, meaningfully. “You did her, then?”
“Huh? No, nothing like that…”
“Better be careful, man. Everyone knows about Orihata. Hee hee hee.”
“What do you mean?”
“She looks all good girl, right? Like some choir chick? But she’s a total slut.”
The rude word caught Shinjirou totally off guard. “Wh-what?”
“I know dozens of guys who say they’ve done her. Hee hee.”
“Really?”
“She’ll do anyone that asks. Go for it, man. Say her name and she’ll follow you anywhere. Course, you gotta watch out that you don’t catch somethin’ from her… Hee hee hee hee.”
“————” Shinjirou couldn’t answer.
Did Masaki know about this?
Ever since meeting her, Masaki had appeared more alive, even from a distance—like his life had taken on new meaning. It seemed like he was really in love with her, and that made his every waking moment enjoyable.
Additionally, his previously reluctant reception to the girls who flocked around him shifted, and he spoke to them warmly. Living proof of the old counselor’s maxim that the better your life is going, the nicer you are to other people. This made him even more popular than ever, but Shinjirou was way past being jealous of that.
Masaki was in the midst of the kind of love that comes along only once a lifetime…and the girl probably didn’t deserve any of it. Surely lurking in his future was a horrendous heartbreak. But what could Shinjirou do?
(—Just leave them be? Yeah, a guy like that deserves to be put through the wringer by some lying, evil bitch!)
Yes, sometimes he thought like that. But at other times, he thought he might be able to take advantage of the situation and somehow get closer to Masaki.
(Auuuugh…)
The test was right on top of them, but Shinjirou never thought of anything but Masaki and Aya, and as a result, his scores plummeted.
He abandoned his studies to do nothing but obsessively follow Masaki—and, of course, Orihata Aya, who was almost always with him. Gradually, he started keeping an even closer eye on Orihata Aya than he did Masaki. He would lie to his parents and tell them he was going to cram school, but in reality, he would venture out and stand outside Orihata’s apartment building, beneath the wintry night sky, feeling the north wind slice his body to ribbons.
“Aaugh…”
He had no conscious recognition of how creepy his behavior was. No, he was merely following Orihata Aya because he was desperate to know the truth—why did Masaki like her? But the meaningless irritation pouring out of him prevented him from understanding.
“I’m gonna figure out who she is…” he muttered to himself in the darkness. The lights in Orihata Aya’s room were off.
From Shinjirou’s stalker-ish observations, he gathered that Orihata Aya must live alone. He’d never seen any sign of other family members in the apartment, and the lights inside were never left on—whether Orihata Aya was there or not. After a date with Taniguchi Masaki, the lights would go on for about ten minutes, presumably while she was in the shower, but they’d be turned off right afterwards.
Does anyone go to sleep that fast?
At first, his perverted mind thought that she might be doing something naughty, and this fantasy excited him initially—and the knotty mess of that feeling made Shinjirou hate himself even more. But as his observations continued, he realized that this occurrence happened each and every time she came home, like clockwork, and he began to doubt that possibility. No one masturbated like that, not even Shinjirou.
The most troubling thing about these observations was realizing how dull Orihata Aya’s life really was. She never watched TV or anything. She just sat there in total darkness. Did this girl even have a private life?
On days when she didn’t meet Masaki, she would come directly home from school, go out to buy a bento at the convenience store for her dinner. The lights would go off shortly after she returned home with it. Most of the time, the bento was a plain nori bento—nothing to spice up her meals at all.
It was like this girl did nothing. She just went through the normal motions of life, but never actually lived it.
(Why would anyone go for an expressionless mannequin of a girl like her…?)
One thing Shinjirou realized quite quickly from his observations was that his friend was a liar. There were no signs of the mythical parade of men his friend had so playfully spoken of. No, there was only Masaki. There were no indications at all of her ever going off with other men, and this left him with absolutely no evidence at all to confront Masaki with.
(Shit…)
Teeth chattering in the cold, Shinjirou carried on stalking her. Had anyone seen him, they would certainly have called the police.
***
Then one night…
Shinjirou was staring up at Orihata Aya’s room when the door slid open. The lights inside remained off.
It was really cold, so it couldn’t possibly be an attempt to air the place out.
He held his breath, watching, and Orihata Aya came out on the veranda alone…in her underwear.
Her hair was a mess. She looked like she’d just woken up. Didn’t she have anything else she could sleep in besides her underwear?
“…………”
Silently, the girl put her hands on the railing, and stood there, not moving. She was immobile, stiff, staring down from her veranda.
(………?)
Shinjirou looked up at her through the binoculars he had with him, and shivered.
Orihata Aya’s trademark mask-like face was gone. She was biting her lower lip so hard that it had turned blue, and she was shaking like a leaf. He could tell from the uncanny light shining in her wide-open eyes that it was not because of the cold.
Something was tormenting her…but what?
She looked as though she was about to jump.
(H-hey—)
Shinjirou gulped, but kept watching.
Her lips parted, and she whispered something. The same words, over and over and over.
She kept on whispering and whispering until eventually Shinjirou couldn’t stand it any longer. He had to get in closer.
Shinjirou quietly scampered towards the building’s outer wall, and it was there, carried on the chilly wind, that her “spell” reached Shinjirou’s ears.
It went as follows:
“I have no right to fall in love. I have no right to fall in love. I have no right to fall in love. I have no right to fall in love. I have no right to fall in love. I have no right to fall in love. I have no right to fall in love. I have no right to fall in love. I have no right to fall in love. I have no right to fall in love. I have no right to fall in love. I have no right to fall in love. I have no right to fall in love. I have no right to fall in love. I have no right to fall in love. I have no right to fall in love. I have no right to fall in love. I have no right to fall in love. I have no right to fall in love…”
On and on and on it went, like she was spitting out blood.
Shinjirou was bewildered.
(Wh-what the hell…is she saying?)
He couldn’t comprehend it…but deep inside his body something made him shiver, and it wasn’t the cold. Something in him had responded to her single-minded intensity. Something perhaps very similar to what Taniguchi Masaki had felt about her.
But it was beyond Shinjirou’s capability to understand it.
“So you’re the one who’s been following Camille around? You got a crush on her or something?” A voice snarled from behind him.
“——?!” He spun around in shock, but he wasn’t quick enough. The hideously fat man behind him—Spooky E—reached out with both his hands and grabbed ahold of the young stalker.
Electricity raced through Shinjirou’s body, and he passed out instantly, crumpling to the ground.
“Huh…” Spooky E sneered, picking Shinjirou up in one hand like a shopping bag. He carried him around to the building’s garbage dump.
Above them, oblivious to their presence, Orihata Aya struggled desperately to crush her feelings for Taniguchi Masaki, shivering in her underwear, whispering over and over, “…I have no right to fall in love…”
***
Spooky E stood in the darkness, hands either side of the unconscious Anou Shinjirou’s head. His fingers slowly, slowly moved across the boy’s scalp.
With each movement, bits of Shinjirou’s body would twitch. Once, the ring finger on his left hand curled; another time, his right eyelid opened, then shut.
“O…o…aahhh…” His mouth opened, meaningless sounds spilling out. “O…o…rihata…Orihata…Orihata Aya…”
When the words acquired meaning, Spooky E grinned. He had reached the part of Shinjirou’s brain that knew about her.
Spooky E briefly removed his hands, stuck his fingers in his mouth, and licked them all over. Once they were covered in saliva, he placed them back on Shinjirou’s head.
Spooky E’s hands generated a very low power electromagnetic wave. He could use this to shock the cells in someone’s brain, and manipulate their memories and their very psyche. His power was called “Spooky Electric.” It was this that his code name was derived. He was a synthetic human. By licking his fingers, he was able to increase the conductivity of the very electromagnetic wave he was generating.
“Okay, Anou Shinjirou. You will no longer pay the slightest attention to that girl or anything to do with her,” Spooky E said. He had discovered the boy’s name from the student ID card in his pocket.
“I will not.”
“From now on, you will have no personal desires,” Spooky E whispered, massaging the boy’s frontal lobes.
“I will not.”
“From now on, you work for the Towa Organization as one of our living terminals.”
“I am a terminal.”
“The sex drive that troubles you no longer exists,” Spooky E’s fingers slid between Shinjirou’s forehead and his eyes, hunting for the hypothalamus and the limbic system.
“No sex drive.”
“You are no longer lonely.”
“Not lonely.”
“You don’t want a lover…you don’t want friends.”
“I don’t.”
These quiet statements and responses continued for another thirty minutes.
Eventually, Spooky E whispered in Shinjirou’s ear, “You will enter Shinyo Academy and await instructions.”
“I will.”
“Programming complete. Reset all systems, reactivate in ten minutes.”
“Complete.”
And with that, Shinjirou’s body toppled over, immobile.
***
“I’m home.”
Hearing the voice from the doorway, Anou Kumiko jumped up from the sofa. She had dozed off.
It was the unexpected voice of her son, Shinjirou. She hurriedly looked at the clock, but soon realized that he was home more than an hour earlier than when cram school should have let out. She had not overslept.
“What’s wrong, Shin-chan?” she asked. “Did something happen at cram school?”
Her son looked much more relaxed than usual. The closer the test got, the more stressed out he’d become, but that seemed to have vanished.
“No,” he said. “I quit.”
Kumiko freaked. “EH?! Wh-what’s that supposed to mean?”
“My scores have been taking a nose dive. I realized I was going to the wrong school,” he answered readily.
“B-but…all on your own? And wasn’t it your idea to go in the first place?”
“I switched to a different school. The one by the station.” He mentioned the name of a big school that handled college entrance exam students as well.
Kumiko was taken aback, but when she heard that he’d already done all the paperwork and paid for the course fees, she frowned. “With what money?”
“I had some savings.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred thousand yen.”
She was staggered. She had known he had that kind of money saved up from New Year’s presents and the like—but for him to use that money on studying was unthinkable.
“I want to get into a prefectural school, at least,” he continued, composedly.
“Sh-Shin-chan…” Kumiko couldn’t decide if she should be happy at her son’s newfound maturity or to continue freaking out over his rash decisions.
“But first, what’s for dinner? I didn’t get anything on the way home…”
He ate twice as much as usual.
“Um, Shin-chan?” Kumiko asked, hesitantly.
He looked up from his third bowl of rice. “What?”
“Which school are you thinking about?”
“Shinyo Academy. I should be able to make that level…if I start now.”
“You… You really want to?”
“It’s worth a shot. I’ve been dragging my feet way too long, though…” He shook his head.
Kumiko wasn’t sure why, but she couldn’t stop worrying.
When he finished dinner, he went straight to his room and started studying.
Kumiko snuck a peek, and found him actually at his desk, without the headphones he always had on, plugging away at his study guides and notes.
“…………”
She held her breath, unable to tear herself away from the crack in the door. Yet her son never moved, continuing to study away in exactly the same position for hours like he had become some kind of machine.
Eventually her husband came home, and Kumiko hurriedly told him what was happening.
“Mm? Sounds great. Finally found some motivation.”
“But there’s something strange about him. Like… Oh, I can’t put it into words…” She must have looked very high strung at that moment.
Her husband frowned in irritation. “Come off it. You’re his mother. He’s the one taking the test. You put too much pressure on him and he won’t be able to concentrate,” he snapped.
“Yes, I know, but…”
“Sounds like you’ve got a case of exam nerves. Just take a deep breath and relax, dear.”
“Okay…” Kumiko nodded in agreement. It was true that she wanted him to study more, and she couldn’t deny that the current developments were a bit of a relief. And really, it wasn’t that strange…
And with that, the intuitive doubt that had arisen inside her was washed away in a flood of sensible analysis.
***
General opinion of Anou Shinjirou abruptly improved. Everyone noticed that he had become more serious. This more motivated turn not only impressed the teachers, but also softened the views of his classmates. Most of all, everyone kept expressing surprise at his sudden lack of interest in Taniguchi Masaki.
“Well, I thought about it, and realized I was just jealous. And you know, that’s really not cool…” Shinjirou said, and since Masaki’s number one enemy had changed his mind, the other guys began to think differently as well, and soon none of them were openly bad mouthing Taniguchi Masaki.
The first group to come around to Shinjirou were the very girls who had treated him like an insect before. “Huh… Anou-kun’s not a bad guy after all…”
“All that conflict between him and Masaki-kun was just some stupid rivalry,” they said, spinning things positively all on their own.
Taniguchi Masaki himself was probably the only person who didn’t pick up on the sea of change. His head was full of Orihata Aya, and he had no time for anything else.
Anou Shinjirou himself cared little for the reaction it provoked. He was simply plugging away at his studies, gradually getting closer to the benchmark for the high school he was aiming for.
“Well, Anou, you’re doing very well. You should have no problem at all getting into Shinyo Academy,” his teacher said, during one of their counseling sessions.
“But I can’t slack off now,” Shinjirou replied calmly.
“Hey, that’s my line! Ha ha ha! But true, very true. Keep up the good work.”
“Yes.”
“You’re living proof that all you have to do is put your mind to it. Don’t think about anything else; just concentrate and you’ll get there.”
“I think so, too,” Shinjirou nodded quietly.
But his teacher frowned at him. “Hey…is something wrong?”
“What?”
“You’re crying.”
“Huh?” Shinjirou put his hand to his eyes. His cheeks were wet. “I am? But why?” he murmured.
“You getting enough sleep? I mean, I’m glad you’re working so hard, but maybe you ought to try and take things a little easier now.”
“…………”
But Shinjirou had no answer. He just sat there, tears rolling down his cheeks, staring into space, unable to understand why he was crying.
***
“Dear Anou Shinjirou-kun,
I’m sorry to send you a letter like this so suddenly. I know this is a busy time for everyone, and no one has time to spare, but I have something I need to say to you.
I think I’m in love with you.
Is that strange? I don’t even know my own feelings. I know I softened the sentiment with a dumb phrase like, “I think,” but that’s the truth of it.
Until just a while ago, I was like everyone else, and totally misunderstood you. You just seemed to always be angry about something, so it was hard to ever get near you. But…”
“………”
This letter was resting in his shoe locker when he left school. When he opened the letter, a whiff of perfume emerged. The paper was soaked in it. He started reading the letter with no reaction at all, and soon he realized it was a love letter.
“But recently, I started watching you, and I realized that you were only angry because no one understood the true nature of your feelings.
Am I right? I’m sure I am. I understand…because I feel the same way.
I know I might be making this all up, but I feel like you’re the only one who can understand my feelings. I hate to trouble you, but will you meet me? Just this once?
Please give me a chance…”
The letter continued, giving a date, time and place to meet…but no name.
“………” Shinjirou remained expressionless, just standing there holding the letter. He didn’t know what to do, so he remained motionless.
Eventually, he moved stiffly over to a nearby phone booth.
Automatically, he dialed the number implanted in his brain.
The call was answered the moment it connected.
“State your name,” the high-pitched voice on the other end of the line said.
“D1229085. Urgent communication for Spooky E,” Shinjirou said, in a flat, mechanical tone.
“What, something happened?”
“Emergence of Emotional Circuit Response Case F. Disturbance level A.”
The man on the other end of the line clicked his tongue in irritation. “Report details.”
Shinjirou did so mechanically.
When he finished, the voice said, “Hmm. So this girl was drawn to a loner like you? Go for it, take her invitation. I’ll permit it.”
“Understood. Permission received.”
“Where did she want to meet?”
Shinjirou told him, and Spooky E made a pleased chuckle. “Rather a lonely place for a romantic tryst, mm? Bet you anything that girl wants you to do her. Hee hee hee hee.”
“…………”
“Okay, that place might do just fine, but if it looks like there are other people around, try and lure her out to some place deserted. I’ll ‘condition’ her.”
“………”
“Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
“Okay. When you hang up the phone, you will return to normal mode in twelve seconds. You will forget about the letter until it is time for the meeting.”
“I understand. I will hang up.”
He hung up, put the letter in his bag, stood for a few seconds absently, and when he hit the twelve second mark, he snapped out of it and left the school, heading for his cram school, same as he always did.
He sat through classes like always, and during the short lull between classes, he found a spot on a bench in the rest area and ate a hamburger.
Around him were several kids his age and a group of high schoolers studying for college.
Right next to Shinjirou, one such girl said, “Oh god, what is this? Help me, Suemaaa!”
“Touka! At this stage of the game, you have to know this!”
“I know, but…”
The two girls were studying together. Their uniforms were obviously from Shinyo Academy, which is where he was planning to go to high school, but he paid them no attention.
“………” While he ate, he flipped through his vocabulary book.
But his hand stopped for a moment.
His gaze was drawn to a painting hung on the wall opposite him.
It was a painting of a great crowd of people sitting in a wasteland, holding hands. There were several black goats around them, eating the rose bushes that grew in the wilderness.
“…………” He couldn’t take his eyes off it.
Eventually the bell rang, and everyone got up and went back to their classrooms, but Shinjirou just sat there, motionless. Left alone, as if frozen to his seat.
“…………”
Ever since Spooky E had “conditioned” him, Shinjirou had stopped thinking on his own. He simply followed the implanted instructions and the expectations of those around him, dutifully.
So why was he just standing there, looking at the painting, like he had been nailed to the floor?
“…………” He stared up at the painting.
From behind him, a voice said, “What you are experiencing is what we call ‘emotion.’”
Shinjirou turned around. Behind him stood a young man in white clothes.
“Uh…” He could swear he’d seen the guy somewhere before, but he couldn’t remember where. Yet he had seen him. Where was it…?
The man seemed to think they hadn’t spoken before. At the previous meeting, the man had been unable to see Shinjirou, so he didn’t recognize him. Neither one of them knew that they were crossing paths for the second time.
“Your heart was moved by something in that painting. But you’ve had no such experience in your life before, so you had no sample data inside to tell you how to react,” the man in white said quietly, walking towards Shinjirou.
“…………” Shinjirou said nothing. He was unable to express any reaction to this man, as well.
“You’re Anou Shinjirou, right? From the public school last minute preparation course?” The man in white sat down next to Shinjirou.
“Yes, I am.”
“My name is Asukai Jin. I’m in charge of the national art school preparation course here. I’ve had my eye on you, Anou-kun.” He smiled gently.
“Why?” Shinjirou asked.
The man raised one eyebrow, as if joking. “You probably don’t know.”
“Know what?”
“That you have absolutely no hope,” he said, calmly, but with a trace of sadness.
“What does that mean…?” Shinjirou asked.
But the man didn’t answer. He stood up, slowly turned his back, and whispered, “The man who played with your heart worked for the Towa Organization, correct?”
This word was implanted deep inside Shinjirou. The moment he heard it, his body moved automatically.
His lungs screamed at the sudden motion, but he ignored them, flinging his body towards the man.
Even though his back was turned, the man stepped lightly to one side, easily dodging Shinjirou’s lunge.
Shinjirou’s body was carried onwards, flying into the tables and chairs opposite.
There was a huge crashing sound.
Bleeding from several places, Shinjirou sprang to his feet again. There was no trace of emotion on his face.
His head turned, looking for the man.
The man did not run, but instead, he stood his ground.
“Hmph…” A cruel smile appeared on his lips.
Shinjirou—or rather the body being controlled by implanted instructions— launched himself towards the man again.
This time, Shinjirouf grabbed him. He pushed him over, and tried to put one arm around his neck to strangle him.
But before he could, the man’s hand reached out to Shinjirou’s chest.
“————!”
A moment later, Shinjirou’s body suddenly bent over of its own accord, and flung itself backwards.
There was another tremendous crash.
“Pathetic…” the man said, unmoved. He stood up, and brushed the dust off his clothes.
He came over to where Shinjirou lay unable to move, and got down on his knees. He peered into the boy’s face.
“What was that sound?”
“Asukai-san, what happened?”
Several other faculty members had come running.
“He fell over. Looks like anemia of the brain…” Asukai replied, helping Anou Shinjirou up, and over to a comfortable sofa, where he laid him down flat.
“Is he okay? Should I call an ambulance?”
“Better ask the manager. If he lies down for a minute…he should be okay, I think…” Asukai answered, well aware that an ambulance pulling up to the cram school was hardly a desirable event.
“W-wait right there, I’ll go ask,” and the other teachers ran off.
Once again the lobby fell silent, if only for a short while.
“………” Asukai Jin slowly rubbed Anou Shinjirou’s chest. “I’ve no idea of the true nature of your suffering, Anou-kun. But I promise you, your wordless pain will be buried when the snow falls in April…when the whiteness falls on all of mankind,” he whispered kindly, yet firmly.
Behind him, floating in the air, a vision of a girl wavered.
***
When Shinjirou awoke, he was lying on a sofa at his cram school. His mother was sitting next to him, peering at his face with a worried expression. Apparently, someone had called her.
“Shin-chan, how do you feel?”
“…Umm… Wh-where…?”
“Cram school. You… You passed out,” his mother said.
He looked around him. Everything felt strange, like his eyes wouldn’t quite focus.
“Cram school…” he got to his feet unsteadily. He stood there, looking puzzled.
“Should we go see a doctor?” his mother asked.
He didn’t appear to be seriously injured, though, so they simply headed straight home. They went for a check up the next day, but the doctors found nothing amiss. Just to be safe, they gave him a mild tranquilizer and then sent him home. The diagnosis was simply stress. He had been studying far too much.
“Thank goodness.”
“Yeah…”
“The test is pretty close, but you don’t need to work too hard. The teachers all agree… You’ll do fine.”
“Yeah…”
***
When they got home, Shinjirou did as the doctors had suggested and went to bed.
He awoke soon after, and stood up. He reached for his bag, untouched since he’d come home the day before, and emptied it out onto his bed. He planned to reorganize the contents by priority.
Text books, study guides, notes…and a letter he didn’t remember getting.
“…………”
As tempting as the letter was, he did not open it. He simply stood there, holding it in his fingers, looking off into nothing.
***
Two tall office buildings and a department store that housed a number of specialty shops had been piled on top of each other into one giant complex known as the Twin City. It was one of the many areas planned for during the redevelopment of the station area and the only one yet completed.
On a daily basis, tens of thousands of people came here. Customers for the department store, businessmen with deals to be done—they all flooded in and out of the building in a constant stream.
But once a month, on the third Wednesday, the department store would close for the day, and the place would be completely and utterly deserted…just a vast, empty space. The business hotel’s rent was far too expensive, and it had hardly any tenants.
The roof of the department store was open to the eighth and ninth floors of the tenant buildings. This “connection space” was also deserted that day. The department store was closed, but the elevators in the office buildings were operating, so the roof was still accessible. The game centers and yakisoba shops that catered to the passing businessmen were all closed, and nothing visited but the wind.
Nonetheless, this monthly void in the middle of the city was where the girl in the letter had promised to meet Anou Shinjirou.
At four in the afternoon, the sun was already setting, painting the world red.
The elevator, which any other day stopped at nearly every floor, took him directly to his destination.
“…………”
There was a gust of wind as Shinjirou came onto the roof. It was always windy this high up, but today exceptionally so. One of the screens that used to break the wind had come loose and was flapping noisily, but there was nobody there to fix it.
“Um… Hello?” Shinjirou looked around, searching for signs of life. There was nobody there, no signs of anyone having been there.
The meeting spot was in the center of the rooftop, near some round, squarish, enigmatic sort of abstract sculptures. Shinjirou headed towards them.
Long shadows spread out like stripes across the floor. A girl was seated alone on one of the sculptures.
“You… You wrote the letter…?”
“………” The girl nodded, silently. She wore a thick navy blue coat and a thick wool hat. Her hair was bound in two braids, and she wore glasses.
He’d never seen her before.
“Um… So, what did that letter mean?” Shinjirou asked.
“…………” She didn’t answer. She just stared at the ground.
Shinjirou made no attempt to approach, stopping a good distance from her.
“I thought someone was making fun of me at first, but you’re actually here…”
“……………”
“But when did you put the letter in my bag? I don’t remember leaving it lying around…”
“—What?” The girl’s face snapped up. For a moment, the setting sun glinted off her glasses. “What did you just say?” Her voice sounded more like a boy’s.
“Huh?”
“You found the letter in your bag? That’s why you came here?”
“What about it?” Shinjirou stared at her blankly.
She suddenly yelled, “Look out!” and dove towards Shinjirou, knocking him aside.
“Waah—?!”
A moment later, something black and round cut through the air where Shinjirou had been standing.
The impact of its landing shook the roof, and then it stood up—Spooky E.
The monstrous man had planned to crush Shinjirou on his dive. But he had failed.
“——?!”
Spooky E swung his fist towards the girl who had spotted his attack.
But his punch met only fabric—the girl had tossed her coat, and was no longer there.
Instead, her hat and glasses spun in the air, falling to the floor of the roof.
Something like a thick black rope landed on top of them—the braids that had emerged from under her hat. They were fake.
“What—?!” Spooky E yelled, stomping on the glasses and fake braids, glaring around him.
There was no sign of the girl—if she even was a girl.
“…………” Shinjirou stayed on the ground, making no sound.
Spooky E turned towards him. “How the hell did you escape from my control?”
“Er…”
“You said you found the letter in your bag…but I made you forget that letter. So how did you find it again?! You should’ve only come here because I ordered you to!”
“Wh-what?” Shinjirou had no idea what the man was shouting about. He’d never seen him before in his life.
Spooky E reached his hand towards Shinjirou. Something flashed in the air between them.
“———!”
Spooky E yanked his hand back quickly. But it was too late; there was already a long, thin cut on his arm, deep enough to draw blood.
A microfilament wire.
It had moved at a frightening speed, slicing open Spooky E’s arm the same way a copy paper can sometimes slice your fingers. Worst of all, it had prevented him from getting close to Anou Shinjirou.
From somewhere around them came a whistle. Shinjirou had no taste for classical music, so he didn’t know the tune, but it was “Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.”
“You’re not nearly as tough as the Manticore,” a voice said. Just like the girl, it was an androgynous voice, impossible to tell if it was male or female.
“Wh-what are you?” Spooky E spun around and found a black shadow standing on one of the sculptures, cloak flapping in the wind.
Its left hand was on its head, holding its pipe-shaped hat as if it had just put it on.
“You should know who I am by now. After all, you are one of the Towa Organization’s synthetic humans.” The cloaked figure brushed its fingers across its lips, leaving them covered in black lipstick. It was as if this figure was performing some sort of magic trick.
The figure let out a strange, asymmetrical expression.
“Y-you’re Boogie…!” Spooky E started to scream, then suddenly flinched, leaping backwards. “Unnh!”
Something glinted in the air, following him.
A piece of paper blowing in the wind was neatly sliced in two.
Frantically, Spooky E rolled away, then forced himself upright, pulling a small gun from his pocket and firing at the cloaked figure.
The figure leapt away a moment before the gun was aimed. There was a crunch, and bits of the statue shattered as the bullet ricocheted off of it.
The cloaked figure slid nimbly from shadow to shadow, between the statues.
“Shit shit shit!” Spooky E yelled, firing into the darkness. There was a silencer on the end of the gun, and it made only a vacant, hollow whistle as it fired.
“My primary objective is the Imaginator’s reemergence. I should not be bothering with the likes of you,” that creepy voice echoed from somewhere.
“But with one of your victims right in front of me, I can hardly ignore matters. I do apologize for the second class treatment, but I’m going to have to destroy you.”
“Grrrrrr!” Spooky E ground his teeth.
There was a click as the hammer struck an empty chamber. He tried to reload, but a wire came undulating through the air, wound around the gun, and pulled it from his hand.
“——!”
“Are you ready?” the voice whispered, seemingly right in his ear.
“S-screw this!” Spooky E turned his back and ran headlong in the opposite direction from where the cloaked figure had last been, in a mad attempt to flee the roof.
In front of him, Anou Shinjirou was still sprawled out on the ground.
Shinjirou lifted his head and yelped, “Uh oh…!” Just the sight of Spooky E running back towards him was enough for him to pull himself together. He scrambled to his feet, tried to run—
But something grabbed his ankle from behind.
“Augghh!”
“You can’t get away from me, boy!” Spooky E yanked Shinjirou towards him, but there was the shrill sound of something slicing through the air…
Spooky E ducked his head, a moment too late.
There was an unpleasant squishing sound.
Spooky E’s right ear was torn clean off his head, spinning through the air.
“Naaaaaarrgghhh——!!!”
But Spooky E did not waver. He spun Shinjirou’s body, and flung him right towards the flapping windbreaker, where a gaping hole opened onto the fifty meter drop.
“Waaaugggh?!” Shinjirou screamed.
As he flew, he thought over and over, This is a dream! This is a dream!
He refused to believe his life would end like this.
A newspaper headline fluttered across his mind’s eye.
Junior High Student Buckles Under Exam Pressure, Commits Suicide.
Everyone would be talking about him, saying stuff like, “He was always worried,” and, “He couldn’t handle the stress.”
And they’d all be wrong.
The idea that he died from getting mixed up in a fight between two mysterious inhuman creatures was just beyond imagining. None of them would ever guess.
He would die alone…misunderstood.
(N-no! I don’t want that!)
From the bottom of his heart, he knew.
He had still not done anything of any real worth.
He screamed something, but he couldn’t catch the meaning of his own words. He might have begged for help, but what could he say that would help him? His scream did not even reach his own ears—
***
Suddenly, he felt his arm twist violently backwards, his body forcefully thrust in a very different direction. Like a bungee cord reaching its length, he was shot back up into the air and yanked onto the roof.
He landed awkwardly on his back and let out a howl of pain.
Still beside himself with panic, he stared up at the black figure perched on the edge of the roof. Had it saved him? Or just deflected the enemy’s attack?
“…………”
The setting sun behind it kept him from seeing its expression. A strong gust of wind blew its cloak around, but failed to move the figure itself.
Glumly, it whispered, “He got away…”
Shinjirou looked around, but the hideously fat man who had raved incomprehensible things at him was nowhere to be seen.
“Oh well… At least he won’t go near you again. He knows if he does, there’s surely a risk of crossing paths with me again.”
The cloaked figure came towards him. It was shorter than he’d thought at first.
But now that he thought about it, the girl who had been waiting for him was actually this guy in disguise, so of course he was tiny.
Then the letter had all just been a ruse to draw out the mysterious blubberball?
“………” He stared vacantly up at the cloaked figure.
Halfway to him, the cloaked figure bent over and picked something up off of the ground. It was the blubberball’s ear, freshly severed. The cloaked figure tossed it lightly into the air, like he’d picked up a ten-yen coin.
“How did you get out from under his control? That’s what interests me the most. Although, if I ask, I doubt you’ll know. They’d hardly leave such an obvious clue.”
Shinjirou was unable to grasp any meaning from those words.
The cloaked figure stopped just in front of him, reached into its cloak, and pulled out not an ear, but a letter.
“This is the real letter. You should have it. The meeting is not for today, but for the day after tomorrow. Make sure to be there,” the figure instructed as it handed over the letter to Shinjirou. “I apologize for infringing on your privacy, but will you forgive me? I had no choice.”
He took the letter absently, and opened it. It was in the same handwriting, and had the same words. Only the date was different.
“What does this mean?” he asked, looking up.
But the cloaked figure was gone.
There was nothing left but the wind.
***
Two weeks later, Anou Shinjirou passed the entrance exam for Shinyo Academy.