Epilogue

■ECHO10■

Denkiya Hitomi, the girl with a slightly strange name, was sent to the hospital by ambulance, just in case.

That being said, it was apparent that she only had things like light scrapes and burns... In other words, that she was healthy and whole. She was exhausted, weak, emaciated, and haggard, so the doctors recommended she stay in the hospital. They’d wanted to keep an eye on her, but she firmly insisted on going home, instead. And because Denkiya herself didn’t want to stay, and there was no reason she had had to go to the hospital in the first place... The hospital decided to respect her wishes.

That being said, she was still a material witness in an inexplicable incident. She was a minor, and incredibly confused as well, but the police questioned her anyway, just in case.

However, Denkiya wasn’t well enough for questioning, so the police were having trouble figuring out what to ask and how... They ended up doing it the cumbersome way, and waited for another day, when she was calmer. The day was already ending, and they couldn’t keep her restrained for long. In reality, it was the time for children to go back to their homes.

“Aaahh—” She was in a common cafe near the hospital where the police interview was being held. Even though Sayuri didn’t normally interact with people if she could help it, the police were very persistent in their questioning, so she was left feeling completely exhausted. Sayuri is one of the victim’s bereaved family, so they didn’t treat her as a suspect, though. But somehow, she had found Denkiya Hitomi, a survivor in a baffling situation— although Sayuri wasn’t sure if that was what you would call it. She wasn’t sure if they were suspicious of that or something else, but they’d questioned her about it insistently.

Sayuri herself didn’t know what was going on, though. She’d heard that her daughter had died, and had come to town in a panic. Then, she’d seen the grotesque corpse in the morgue of the police station. She was told to try and find her daughter, somehow, in the mass that looked like several boys and girls condensed into one, and she had been troubled in the extreme. Really, there was no way to compare it.

Denkiya Hitomi came out of that— from inside of the corpses, as if she was crawling out of it. Sayuri didn’t understand the meaning of that phenomenon. The police, too, were nothing but bewildered.

Being asked about the details of that event so thoroughly, unable to say anything but platitudes like, ‘I don’t know,’ and ‘I’m surprised, too’... Sayuri was left not yet feeling the reality of her daughter’s death; only time was moving on. Having already reduced several cigarettes into ash, Sayuri put the last one into her mouth, and slowly, slowly, she breathed out smoke.

“That must have been hard.” For some reason, the one consoling her was Denkiya Hitomi, who was sitting across from her. Even though she kept insisting that she wanted to go home, for some reason she’s been staying in the cafe, watching Sayuri.

Denkiya Hitomi didn’t have any really outstanding features, but she was still a pretty girl. She said that she was a high schooler, the same age as her daughter. She had an average physique for her age. For whatever reason, Denkiya was wearing a branded apron that said, “Monochrome Electronics” on it. And just earlier, she had taken off the bandana on her head— it was probably in the way. She had folded it, and currently had the bandana sitting on her lap.

Overall, she was a plain-looking girl, but her black hair was both glossy and pretty. Although, as one would expect, she must not have had time to fix her hair. It was disheveled, and here and there she had hair sticking out as if she had just been sleeping.

“Sorry for smoking this much.” There were people who hated tobacco, so just in case, Sayuri excused herself. It was the last one, after all. And since she had already lit it, she wanted to finish it. Getting cigarettes up in the mountains is hard; she had to treasure every one.

While letting that and other inconsequential thoughts run through her head, Sayuri scratched at her scalp. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking of these things— she just couldn’t calm down. It was like she was seeing a dream.

“My bad,” Sayuri apologized again. “You had something you wanted to talk about? ...Uhmm, Denkiya-san.” Sayuri had been detained by Hitomi’s desperate invitation. So now, they were seated across from each other in a cafe, facing each other like this. Apparently under the apron, Hitomi was wearing the same uniform as her daughter’s, but she had never met Hitomi until now, so Sayuri was bewildered. Even if she said she had something she wanted to talk about, Sayuri couldn’t imagine what it was.

“Please, call me Hitomi. I don’t like being called by my last name. It’s not like I hate my parents— but it’s like a joke, isn’t it? Because my family owns an electronics store.” In reality, Hitomi got along quite well with her parents. They say that her parents, who were on a business trip to the city, are in the middle of rushing back after hearing that their daughter was caught in an accident. Although if they were in the city, it’ll take quite a while by train; this town isn’t just rural, it’s remote.

This child doesn’t seem to have any siblings or family, so until her parents return... She’s alone, she must be feeling lonely. Sayuri thought to at least be a partner in conversation. “I hated my last name, too, when I was young—” When Sayuri said that, unable to think of an appropriate reply, Hitomi tilted her head.

“Umm, I don’t mean to be rude, but...” Hitomi asked, “is ‘Hanemori Joururi’ your real name?”

“Before that,” Sayuri clarified. “Where did you hear that name?”

“Where, you say— I can’t really explain it well,” Hitomi apologized. “It’ll be a long story, do you want to hear it?”

“Yes,” the older woman affirmed. “I’m gonna be the one to look after you until your parents come back. If talking will take your mind off it, talk all you want. ...Would you like some coffee or something?”

“Sorry. It must be hard for you too, Hanemori-san. You lost your daughter, after all.”

“Don’t call me Hanemori,” Sayuri instructed, “although it’s not like I really hate my last name.” Flagging down an employee, Sayuri ordered coffee. It looked like Hitomi was hungry, so she got sandwiches, too. Sayuri came down without eating, so she was also hungry, but right now she didn’t feel like she’d be able to swallow a thing. Her daughter had died.

While showing concern for Sayuri, Hitomi started to talk, intermittently, about a very curious story: getting lost in an alternate dimension, and the boys and girls she met there. It was a tragic, dark and creepy story that defied common sense. Sayuri was unable to digest it well.

Didn’t she just see a nightmare or something? she thought.

Hitomi had crawled her way out of a weird corpse. Even that, Sayuri was thinking that she might have just been seeing things. But Hitomi spoke so seriously, so earnestly, that Sayuri started thinking that it may just be true. It’s not like denying Hitomi’s story would solve anything.

■ECHO11■

Sayuri listened to Hitomi’s story seriously until the end, and by then the coffee and sandwiches were long gone. It was already almost closing time; they couldn’t stay and talk much longer. The other customers had all already gone home, and the employees who were left were giving the two of them slightly annoyed looks. Turning on the TV placed up near the ceiling, a baseball game was being broadcast.

“An amusement park, huh—” While feeling slightly uncomfortable, Sayuri digested Hitomi’s story. Apparently, the alternate dimension— or whatever she spoke of— can be thought of as the hearts of people who get lost inside. It was a dream, or a place where their spirits were mixed together, or something. Things happened, like watching someone else’s dream on a monitor because of crossed wires or something...

Sayuri felt like she could make a guess, somehow, as to why the alternate dimension was an amusement park. She hadn’t been in the prenatal phase, but while her daughter was still in her belly, she must have also felt that moment in the past that had changed Sayuri’s life for good. The amusement park, where Sayuri was strangled by her abominable childhood friend... That left a strong image, and it must have been inherited by Sayuri’s daughter, turning that dimension into an amusement park.

While thinking that, Sayuri asked something absentmindedly; “Well, saying I believe your story for now. What do you want to ask of me, then? Are you unsatisfied with something, Denkiya-sa— ...Hitomi-chan?”

“If you’re talking about satisfaction, then I’m unsatisfied with all of it. I don’t understand any of it... It couldn’t be helped that I, an outsider, was caught up in all this by chance, though.” Without looking at the TV, Hitomi faced Sayuri directly. “I didn’t think you’d believe me. Not with a story this stupid.”

“Yeah,” Sayuri sighed. “If I was to believe your story, then the culprit who set the shrine on fire, and who probably killed my daughter and the others would be that Kurashima-kun, or whatever he’s called. But even if you told the police, I don’t think they’d believe you.” “The weapon would have been a knife or something similar, if they looked for it they might find it... So wouldn’t the culprit be revealed, eventually, if they searched the scene of the crime, anyway? I hear that the Japanese police are excellent, after all.” At the scene of the fire, a corpse that was several boys and girls blended together was found... If someone just listened to the outline, it would sound mysterious, but if they didn’t think of the alternate dimension stuff, then it should just be a normal incident. Kurashima Yuudai, Saba Torii, Kagamimori Utena, and Mishiro Kousuke were dead. They wouldn’t figure out if the victims died in the fire, or were killed before that without further investigation, but seeing as how the culprit Kurashima Yuudai is dead, the case is already closed.

If the police investigate with due diligence, then they should reach a realistic explanation for the whole thing. The complicated mess of bodies will be properly untangled, and sent to the bereaved families for their funerals. They’ll most likely decide something like the intense heat of the fire melted the bodies together by coincidence. And with that reasoning put on it, the incident will end.

So that corpse, those are the leftovers that the monsters didn’t touch...maybe? Just that was thrown back into the world, like trash. There was no one to eat Hitomi, so she came back whole. That was probably it, though the fact that Sayuri could only make conjectures vexed her.

“I think I know what Kurashima-kun’s— or whatever he’s called— motivation was, too.” When she said that, Hitomi’s eyes turned into circles. Sayuri laughed bitterly, and lowered her head. “It was probably my fault. A looong time ago, I was an idol. It probably doesn’t look that way, does it? I retired quite a while back, and now I’m just an old lady; you can find those anywhere.”

“You’re plenty beautiful even now, though,” Hitomi reassured her.

“Nothing will come of it, even if you praise me... Hmm, you don’t know anything about Hanemori Joururi, right? I don’t think any of the young kids these days would know, after all.” The Kagamimoris,’ the richest family in town, scion— now the head of the family— was involved in the scandal that ended Hanemori Joururi. He was probably trying to erase the past. It was taboo to speak the name ‘Hanemori Joururi,’ especially in this town. There was no way to know about her, especially in the younger generations.

Hitomi tilted her head, troubled, as she asked Sayuri, who was lost in thought: “You’re talking like this is about someone else. You’re Hanemori Joururi, right?”

“Yeah, well, that is true.” To Sayuri, her idol years were something that she didn’t want to remember. So whenever she did, she was put into a bitter mood. It’s already in the past, so she did think of it like something that happened to someone else. To think that she had worn cute outfits, and danced and sung on stage... It was unbelievable, like it had happened in a past life.

“When I was around your age, I got scouted by someone from a TV station in the city. I debuted with a lot of fanfare, and went on, just like that, to become a huge success without any trouble; I became a celebrity in one go. No matter what channel you flipped to on the TV, it would’ve been filled with talk about Hanemori Joururi.” Sayuri already wanted to smoke another cigarette, but she was out. Enduring the urge, Sayuri talked vaguely. “Around then, computers— or actually the internet— weren’t widespread at all, yet. There was no such thing as smartphones, either. The only thing there was to reflect the outside world was TV. Its influence was staggering, although I didn’t really feel it at the time.” At the time, she had just been an ignorant girl— the Sayuri of that time, Hanemori Joururi.

“I remember hearing the name Kurashima,” Sayuri went on. “She was the idol who was treated as my rival, back then. Well, it was a rigged race, or a fixed fight, if you will... She was an idol on the wane at the time, so she was put in showdowns on lots of different TV shows.” Now that she thought about it, she’d done something pathetic, but at the time Sayuri was just doing as she was told. She had thought the other side was content with what was happening, too— in the end, it was just a job. Sayuri had never even imagined that her actions could warp others lives. “I was undefeated,” she explained, “and beat Kurashima-san black and blue. I beat her, trampled on her, and relished my triumph. And the world admired me that way. Kurashima-san retired like that, and was soon forgotten by everyone. I, too, had forgotten her until just now.”

But she, Kurashima, most likely hadn’t forgotten. Not Hanemori Joururi, who kicked her down and ate and scattered her remains, before brilliantly climbing up to the seat of Top Idol. She hated Hanemori and held a grudge, and her son had inherited that grudge. It was probably an education close to brainwashing. Saying, “I despise Hanemori Joururi, she is hateful, I want to kill her...” If she had kept saying that since he was a baby, it would take root in the boy’s soul.

The pitiful son turned into a demon of revenge, and rode all the way to such a remote town on his motorcycle for his mother’s vengeance. He was a pious son, but also outdated to think of revenge in these times, even though it’s been a long time since vengeance was forbidden by law. But the person himself was probably deadly serious about it— It might have been one of his life goals. His looks were outstanding, and he was, or at least had been, a performer of sorts. So even if he didn’t stain his hands with crime, he should have been able to lead a relatively happy life. He hadn’t given up on his mother’s revenge, though, and so he caused a tragedy.

“If that’s the case, he should have gotten even with the person herself,” Sayuri said, “rather than put his hands on my daughter.”

“Hrmmmm. Maybe he wanted Hanemori Joururi to taste the feeling of something precious being stolen... Kurashima-san himself is dead, so I can only guess, though,” Hitomi said, sounding as if she was worried about Sayuri, even though everything was Sayuri’s fault. No, it might just be that no one was at fault; if one was to force a conclusion, then it would be the fault of the era. In order to produce a single super idol, the world of show business spared no effort. Countless corpses were piled high as sacrifices, feed to Hanemori Joururi. Kurashima, too, was one of those. She was firewood, in order to make Hanemori Joururi shine brighter. She was thrown into the fire, and forgotten. The flames of hatred, born in her from that moment, were inherited by her son in her womb.

“According to Kousuke, Kurashima-san looked like he was searching for something, though,” Hitomi said thoughtfully. “So he was looking for the daughter of Hanemori Joururi...for Kagamimori-san.”

“Ah— I think he was mistaken about that part, though.” While feeling sorry for interrupting Hitomi, Sayuri corrected her. “My daughter’s name is Saba. Utena-chan isn’t— she isn’t connected to me by blood. The story is a little embarrassing, but a long time ago I was a stupid girl,” Sayuri admitted, although she didn’t want to talk about such an indecent subject to a high schooler, who still had her purity. “I was someone’s mistress. To the scion of the Kagamimori family, to be exact. He and I were childhood friends, as well. We were lovers before I even debuted as an idol. I was a fool who didn’t think about anything, so I had thought that we’d stay that way forever.” Letting a sigh spill from her lips, Sayuri rubbed at the nape of her neck. The traces of when, a long time ago, she was strangled by a childhood friend that she should’ve at least tentatively loved, were throbbing. “It’s no good, when you’re separated. He had his own life to think of, so he married someone his parents decided on, and I didn’t know that. We did what we did, and I got pregnant. In the eyes of the world it was adultery, and when the pregnancy was discovered... It became a scandal, and that was the end of Hanemori Joururi.” Miming decapitation, Sayuri said it like a joke, deceiving the scars that hurt even now.

If she didn’t at least phrase it like a funny story, she wouldn’t be able to stand it. “So that was the cause of my retirement. It might still be the same now, but the world back then was fussy about that sort of thing; the ethics of being an idol. The office was kind enough to ban smoking, though. Because it would’ve been impossible while I was pregnant.” She retired flashily, plastered all over not just weekly magazines, but the national newspapers, too. Even at her worst, Hanemori Joururi was a super idol turned social phenomenon— the uproar was endlessly large. People set fire to her office, and for some reason there were even suicides. Hanemori Joururi’s influence was just that large. Exactly because she was loved all over Japan, when she fell it was all the way to rock bottom, and she wasn’t even able to walk the streets. Sayuri had secretly returned here, to her rural hometown— and she had been living in seclusion up until now.

■ECHO12■

“But well, it’s not like I could take back my pregnancy,” Sayuri continued. “I had my daughter, and raised her. I had enough money that I could play around my whole life and still not spend it all, so raising her wasn’t a problem. That was Torii, my daughter, whom I shared my blood with.” And she was dead. Repeating that over and over, the reality of it settled heavily over Sayuri’s shoulders. She had thought that she’d lost everything, when Hanemori Joururi retired— Sayuri had died, once. Even though that was wrong, even though she had her daughter. From Sayuri’s belly, which had felt like anything and everything had been torn out of her, came a small speck of life. And even that had been stolen. Right now, Sayuri had nothing left to her but her own flesh and life.

“No one would help me,” Sayuri remembered. “Even my own parents disinherited me, saying that I had a lack of filial piety. I had trouble, but well, I did my best in raising my daughter. I wasn’t doing a great job of it, though,” Sayuri finished, before muttering under her breath, “She died, after all, that girl.” Getting unexpectedly sad, Sayuri cried. Letting out a sob, her tears spilled forth. It was like a hole had been opened up in her stomach; she’d never thought, never imagined that she would feel like this.

To Sayuri, her daughter was her entire life. Of course, she also resented her child, at times. Because she had housed her daughter in her belly, she fell from the path of glory. But, that kind of thing... Her daughter should have been precious enough to easily trade the fame and vacant shine of being a super idol. If only Sayuri had loved her more. It’s too late to regret now.

“Sorry.” Hitomi apologized for some reason, using a paper napkin to wipe Sayuri’s face. She was a good child. Her parents had probably taught her well. If Torii had been born into their house... Would she have been happier? If she hadn’t been born as the daughter of a dropout from life, a worn-out woman. She would never have come to an end as cruel as becoming a meal for an eerie monster in another dimension...

No. When humans died, they would just go to the dimension where monsters ran rampant. And there, they would be food. Is this the world’s providence? If so, it’s unpleasant, to say the least. There were no hopes or dreams. To think something like that was the world after death. “It’s a weird way to say it,” Hitomi said, “but there’s a lot I understand, now.”

After hesitating a little, Hitomi patted Sayuri’s head, saying, “There, there.” She was being comforted by someone the same age as her daughter; Sayuri was feeling considerably pathetic. Even though Sayuri was supposed to be the one to listen to Hitomi talk, before comforting her. Even though Sayuri was older than her by a generation. This girl probably got a little stronger, after experiencing such harsh events in the other dimension. Unlike Sayuri, who acted as if she hadn’t grown at all since she was just an ignorant girl. “Your daughter—” Hitomi began. “Torii-san, was being bullied at school.”

“Yes. You did say that,” Sayuri agreed regretfully. “Really, I’m a failure as a mother, aren’t I? I didn’t know. That is, until you told me.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it too much, please,” Hitomi requested, hanging her head sadly. “There’s no point in doing that anymore, after all.”

That’s right, Sayuri realized. Her daughter was dead. it’s too late now. Her daughter had been bullied at school. There had been signs: her daughter lost things, or got hurt. She’d just thought that her daughter was a fool, and didn’t think too very deeply about it, even though her daughter was living in hell. “She was being bullied by Utena-chan, you said,” Sayuri said at last. She could figure out the details on her own. Utena was the daughter of the Kagamimoris. She was a child from a previous marriage of the spouse of the head of the family, who was the childhood friend of Sayuri, and a person she loved in her own way. That’s why she wasn’t related to Sayuri by blood at all, though.

It was probably sheer coincidence that Utena had learned of Sayuri’s existence. It might have been that her father had lingering attachments, and kept an album of their memories. Utena had embraced her curiosity, researched the subject, and come out of it with the name of the super idol, Hanemori Joururi. And so, she admired idols.

“Someone her father had once loved” was not something Sayuri could say with certainty. But she had been a partner with a deep enough relationship to leave behind a child. Therefore, Utena might have felt a bond of fate with Sayuri. She must not have known that she was a child from her mother’s previous marriage; that she might just be the daughter of Hanemori Joururi, was probably a delusion of her youth. She might have thought something like, Because my relationship with my mother isn’t good, I might have an actual mother somewhere else. But since Utena was already dead, Sayuri could only imagine her thoughts. It seemed that Utena had called Hanemori Joururi, “Mother,” so she must be at least mostly on the right track. While misunderstanding something fundamental, the girl adored Hanemori Joururi, and thus aimed to be an idol to follow in her footsteps, all while hallucinating a blood bond that didn’t exist.

Sayuri could also understand the great joy Utena felt when Kurashima Yuudai offered to introduce her to a talent agency in the city. From a remote town, to getting discovered by someone from a TV station by chance, to being a magnificent success in the city; it would have been like re-tracing the events of Hanemori Joururi’s debut. Utena must have thought that she, too, could become like that. Sick of her boring life in a rural town, Utena had dreamed of a Cinderella story.

In reality, it was unknown if Kurashima Yuudai had connections to a talent agency, and if he was in a position to scout anybody. It might have just been some appropriate lie in order to trick Utena, who had believed him. So, in order to fulfill her dream, she’d treated her meeting with Kurashima Yuudai as an opportunity, and was delighted. But in the end, Utena had been betrayed, and she had died. It was a story cruel enough to make Sayuri hesitate to simply sum it up as being pitiful. One could also say that Utena simply got her hopes up based off of a selfish assumption, spun her wheels fruitlessly, and met with misfortune. To think that she had admired someone like Sayuri... Sayuri couldn’t even pity Utena, who lost her life so young. She only felt more hopeless.

If that was the case, then the log house crammed full of idol goods that Sayuri found deep in the mountains must have been Utena’s. That place was a palace that Utena had built for her dreams. Utena had admired Sayuri that much, and yet Sayuri hadn’t even exchanged a word with her. Even after knowing that Utena had been bullying her daughter, Sayuri couldn’t find it in herself to hate the girl.

If they were going to do it, Sayuri wished they had done it to her. Both Kurashima Yuudai and Utena, if they were going to hurt her daughter— even kill her— then Sayuri wished that she had been the victim, instead. Kurashima’s revenge for the idol that Hanemori Joururi once trampled over could be said to have been successful. Sayuri was feeling just awful. It would have been better if she was dead.

■ECHO13■

“I don’t think Kagamimori-san was the one bullying Torii-san,” Hitomi murmured abruptly. “I mean, Torii-san didn’t seem like she resented Kagamimori-san at all. Instead she tried to protect her, and held her while they slept... It looked like she loved her.” Hearing those words, Sayuri raised her head. Hitomi simply watched Sayuri with pure eyes, concerned. “Sure, Kagamimori-san might have hated Torii-san. She was the real daughter of the idol Utena looked up to. The daughter of the woman she had thought was her mother... And in fact, Kagamimori-san wasn’t connected by blood to Hanemori Joururi at all. She was a fake, they weren’t family.”

“Isn’t that why she resented my daughter and bullied her... Because she hated my daughter, who had what she wanted?” Sayuri asked. “Didn’t she persecute my daughter because she was jealous and bitter?”

“I don’t think Kagamimori-san was that big of a fool,” Hitomi disagreed. “She was a very level-headed girl, although I didn’t get to talk to her properly much... She had a dream, fell in love, and lived her life as best she could. She put in effort, straightforwardly, like a story’s protagonist. Such a girl wouldn’t bully others over something as dull as unjust resentment,” she said.

This is a child’s opinion, an idealism, Sayuri had thought. But somehow, she could understand what Hitomi was trying to say: Utena wasn’t the one who was bullying Torii. Rather, it had been those who were around her. Utena was the daughter of the Kagamimoris, and this town’s princess. There was probably no end to the people who were trying to get closer to her, flattering her and trying to curry favor. Those guys acted like they knew Utena’s complicated mentality, and...

“Kagamimori-san is a girl without a hidden side. She wouldn’t have lied,” Hitomi explained. “She even revealed her dream of being an idol to me, someone whom she’d basically just met. Her circumstances probably leaked out into her surroundings.” It didn’t look like Hitomi could say for certain, though, because she hadn’t been that close with either Utena or Torii, and at school she’d kept her distance.

Utena admired idols— or just Hanemori Joururi in particular— and her real daughter had been attending the same school. She had what Utena wanted; the impertinence! Utena should have hated her. For the sake of our lady, let’s beat down that eyesore. Let’s bully her, kick her down, and ridicule her. Someone among Utena’s hangers-on had thought those things. In the age before the internet, there was no stopping the tide of rumors. No matter how taboo the name “Hanemori Joururi” was, in our town... That was in the past, and it had nothing to do with the children. They had fun investigating this and that, and bringing circumstances to light, before starting their attack.

Torii was a slightly weird girl that lived deep in the mountains. She was a pitiful girl who only had a mother. She was timid, and didn’t fight back. On paper, she was good prey. As long as there’s an excuse, people will start the cannibalism known as bullying, endlessly and forever. It was enough to make one think that the monsters in the alternate dimension, who firmly decided their share and only ate what they needed to, to be more upright and honest.

“This might also just be my imagination, but I wonder if Kagamimori-san talked to Torii-san in school, or something,” Hitomi pondered. “Trying to ask about her mother, Hanemori Joururi? She tried to interact with your daughter proactively, talking with her a lot and getting along with her... Kagamimori-san would be honest and open with relatively anyone, I would think.” Hitomi let out a sigh, sounding somewhat tired. If what she was talking about was true, then this would be right after she just escaped from an alternate dimension. There’s no way she wasn’t exhausted, but it was far too late to touch on that subject. She probably couldn’t move on without tidying up the stuff she didn’t understand.

“Kagamimori-san’s followers wouldn’t have been able to stomach that, I don’t think,” Hitomi continued. “So they set their eyes on her because they thought she was conceited, and attacked her... But at the same time, Torii-san must have thought that Kagamimori-san ‘might be my little sister.’”

“Utena-chan was younger than Torii, after all. If Utena-chan really believed that Hanemori Joururi was her mother...” Sayuri trailed off for a moment. “Then, I see, that would make Utena-chan her younger sister.”

“But in reality, they weren’t connected by blood, though. That would be why Torii-san loved Kagamimori-san like a little sister,” Hitomi concluded. As for Kagamimori-san, if Torii-san hadn’t known much about Hanemori Joururi... She probably just felt like she’d taken a loss, having talked to her and gained nothing.”

“I didn’t tell her anything, after all,” Sayuri said. “Not about Hanemori Joururi.” It was all just Hitomi’s imagination, but if Sayuri thought of it that way, there were parts that made sense: Like, why Torii treated Utena kindly, when she was supposed to have been bullying her. Of course, there’s no way she didn’t feel anything after being abused. But, if it was just her followers, and Utena herself didn’t bully her at all... She might have had complicated feelings about it, but Torii shouldn’t have hated Utena that much, if at all. Torii was a kindhearted girl, who would want to raise the eggs of birds she found, and would put a blanket on her mother when she fell asleep while working. Actually, it wasn’t like Sayuri was a very good mother, either... Maybe Torii wanted the warmth of family, and so tried to get closer to Utena, even if she was hurt; even if she bled. Even if they weren’t related by blood, she had tried to love Utena, her little sister.

“Thinking of it that way, the aftertaste is just a little bit better...” Hitomi admitted. “That would be it, though. Sorry for talking for so long.”

“It’s fine. It looks like it’s closing time already, too...let’s take our time going home.” Hitomi smiled, and Sayuri gave a large yawn. Looking outside, it was already completely dark. The two of them should probably be heading home. Together.

“The girl Kousuke liked, I have a feeling it was Torii-san—” Hitomi said sadly; apparently, she wasn’t done talking. “I want to think that the girl wasn’t one of Kagamimori-san’s followers that took part in the bullying. Kousuke was always together with Kagamimori-san, so Torii-san would be the only one close enough, and she was a good person with a pure heart... You two really are related. Torii-san was beautiful, just like you, Sayuri-san.”

“Wouldn’t it be fine to just say that it was you, Hitomi-chan?” Sayuri said. This girl was still at the age where she enjoyed talking about love. I’d rather she talk about this than a gloomy alternate dimension beyond understanding, or a sad story about bullying. Thinking that, Sayuri gladly rode the subject. “Well, even if you thought about it now there’d be nothing you could do. There’s plenty of men in the world. I...don’t think you should be falling in love with your childhood friend anyway, speaking as someone who’s tried that and failed. ...hm? What’s wrong?”

Sayuri’s voice might not have reached her, Hitomi was in a daze and wasn’t replying. Her eyes were looking somewhere far away. “............” She put on a strangely symbolic expression that somehow lacked humanity. It might have been because of the cold, but she was trembling an awful lot, and Sayuri was worried. She was probably tired, it was about the right time— they couldn’t stay in this cafe much longer. We should end it here, and go home, Sayuri thought.

“I’ll go settle the bill,” she told Hitomi. “Can you wait for me outside? Or should we stay together?”

“Sorry. Can we stay together, for just a little longer?” She sounded too lonely, so Sayuri sat back down. Hitomi was still a frail girl. She needs someone to support her. I can at least be someone to talk to, Sayuri thought. She had nothing else to do, too. Although, this might be considered meddling. Sayuri wanted to give this child love; at least, enough to make up for what she didn’t give to her actual daughter.

“This must also be some sort of fate... From now on, you can call on me if anything happens,” Sayuri promised. “I’ll help you, Hitomi-chan. Are you really alright? Your eyes don’t seem to be focusing?”

“I’m fine,” Hitomi told her. “Although, I’ll need to be careful on the way home. If I stumble the wrong way, I could get run over by a car. I just had my life saved earlier; I have to take care of it.” If they knew that, when they died, they would be sent into a bizarre alternate dimension, where they would be played around with by monsters before being eaten, anyone would want to live as long as possible. “Don’t worry too much about me. It might be because I’m tired, but I can feel my consciousness going dim... Really, I’m fine.” Hitomi firmly raised her head, and gave a human smile. “I was just watching a little TV.”