BLANKMIND WORDS 6

I had heard all about how people got sent to hell if they did bad things in life. That was common knowledge. I didn’t even remember where I first learned it.

But try as I might to picture what “hell” looked like, all I could conjure up were fictional images drawn by old Japanese artists.

Nobody had ever brought a camera there, after all. And these days, if you wanted a photo of pretty much any place in the entire world, you had your choice of spots. If you didn’t, it likely meant the location wasn’t even worth spending the few seconds required to point and shoot.

But it was weird to me. The idea that this place where “bad people” went to—a spot visited by millions over the years, no doubt—was depicted only in the form of classical art. Why was that?

The answer was simple: because it was a superstition. A place where only the dead could go—there was no way a living person could learn about it in detail.

Hell was just a fairy tale made up by someone to shame the bad guys into being good. Even as a kid, I could tell that much.

That’s what I thought…but apparently, truth could be stranger than fiction.

In August, fire consumed my body, and I died.

I hadn’t confirmed that beyond all doubt, but I was confident in saying it. I was surrounded by the rising flames, my throat was crying out in pain as the air burned through it, and my vision went black. If I didn’t die then, that would be pretty darn incredible.

And since dying, I had come to realize a few things. First, that I was still capable of thought. That was a surprise, to be honest. I had pondered, now and then, what it was like to die. For the most part, I was satisfied with the idea that it was probably like sleeping—you just didn’t feel anything anymore.

If I was still thinking, though, that meant I was still using my brain. You’d think the flames would’ve burned that to a crisp, along with the rest of my body. But if I was still conscious and thinking, did that mean there was actually such a thing as a soul or whatever? Maybe. I wasn’t exactly sure.

And also this:

I didn’t know if it was hell or not, but it turned out there really was a place called the afterlife. I think. There’s no way to impartially prove that this place I was in was the afterlife, so it’s still just a theory for now. It’s just that I died, and now I was hanging around there, so it seemed sensible to think this was the place.

And that’s just what I was doing. Sitting down there, right smack dab in the middle of the afterlife.

I say “middle” just for a frame of reference. In reality, it’s completely dark on all sides, so I couldn’t really say where I was. There’s certainly no map or signposts to turn to. Of course, I couldn’t imagine what was going to happen next, either.

It was pretty clear to me that this wasn’t “heaven,” at least. No idyllic flower gardens or cute little cherubs. In terms of first impressions, this definitely seemed like “hell.” Plus…I think I kinda knew why I was there. I killed my father with my own two hands. It wouldn’t surprise me at all to wind up in hell.

So I couldn’t save Rin in the end. Who could say what she saw there, amid that burning mansion? I think I heard something from her, but my memory of those final moments was hazy—and I sure couldn’t ask her now. Everything was too late.

Inside this darkness, my consciousness seemed unusually sharp. This meant, I assumed, that I wasn’t disappearing anytime soon. Forcing me to sit here, in a place like this, forever…God could come up with some nasty tricks sometimes. “Hell” was completely deserving of the name. I probably would’ve cried, if I could, but I couldn’t shed any tears now. I just sat there, while time swam by in the darkness.

Ahh, this must be what loneliness is. I thought that life when I started living at the mansion was already lonely enough, but compared to that, I was positively blessed in there. I was so lonely now, I couldn’t help but speak up.

“…Is anybody there?”

There couldn’t be. I knew that. I was just using the words to hurt myself even more. There was no response, no one materializing to pat me on the shoulder.

But what about that: a faint light, far out in the distance, that didn’t exist before I spoke? My heart leaped, not expecting this rapid turn of events. The flickering light was small as it floated in the dark, but nothing could’ve been more precious to me.

I stood up and made a beeline for it. I knew it might be another punishment—a phantom light that I could never reach, no matter how long I walked. But my feet didn’t stop. I just wanted to cling on to something.

After a little while, the light began to grow, gradually revealing its true nature. I could see its shape, its size—and once I was almost there, I stopped. I ran nearly the whole way, but I wasn’t panting at all. I must really be dead, then. In the afterlife. It had to be. I was sure I was right…

“…But what’s a house doing in here?”

In front of me stood a neat little Western-style house, one totally out of place in this world of black. I took another look around, but there was nothing else nearby—nor any other physical objects, actually. Apropos of nothing, there was a single fairy-tale house plopped right into the dark.

…This would make a nice out-of-the-way restaurant.

No. That’s just silly talk. Unless there were more dead people roaming around, they’d have a terrible time building a customer base. Oh, but wait—that’s not impossible, is it? There’s a lot I’ve only learned after dying. Things that seemed like a given before didn’t seem quite that way now.

Maybe hell isn’t how I pictured it at all. Maybe there’s a nice Grim Reaper in there who’ll treat me to some warm soup. I didn’t have anywhere else to go, anyway. I had nothing to lose.

So I strode up to the wooden front door and gave it a knock.

…No response.

I thought about opening it up, but even in the afterlife, I still felt compelled to mind my manners. I was just about to dare a second knock when the door soundlessly opened.

I was greeted by a young woman dressed in clothing I would describe as a tad eccentric. “…What kind of a joke is this?” she said.

She was short, and her frizzy black hair was tied back with a red piece of fabric. It was hard to tell due to the inky blackness outside, but her hair had a lot of kinkiness to it—in fact, it was practically twisting and squirming underneath the tie.

My presence must’ve surprised her. She sized me up, eyes opening wider and wider. Perhaps she didn’t see many visitors. So much for the restaurant idea.

“Um…where am I?”

That was all I could get out before she slammed the door in my face.

I was expecting that to some extent, but being so overtly rejected like that was enough to hurt anyone’s feelings a little. She could’ve listened to at least a word or two.

After standing there frozen for a few moments, the door opened again. Not all the way—just a few inches, so she could peer through the crack at me. I could tell she was suspicious.

“…What are you?”

What am I? That’s an odd way to put it. I decided to do the polite thing and answer.

“I’m…Tsubomi. What about you?”

I scared her once again. Her eyes burst open again, as if to say “Whoa, she actually answered me.” Being asked her name must’ve disturbed her for some reason. “Wh-why,” she retorted, “do I have to tell you?”

This struck me as a mean way to answer a question. I pouted a bit, deciding to take more of a curt tone.

“You’re the one who asked me first. Why can’t you tell me yours, too?”

The eyes peering at me bobbed upward, perhaps not expecting this full-court press.

“A…Azami.”

“Azami…? Azami what?”

“Huh? Nothing. Just Azami.”

Glad to see we were on a first-name basis this early on. Well, fine by me. No reason to be polite with her, either, then. Looking at her, though, she didn’t seem like a violent person. Maybe she’ll tell me where I am once we get to talking.

“So do you live here? I wanted to ask you a few questions.”

“And I want to ask you a few, woman,” Azami feebly replied, refusing to open the door any farther. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

This behavior was starting to make me feel like the wolf in a fairy tale. This was getting nowhere. But I still felt an obligation to answer her queries. If I got any further on her wrong side and she locked the door, I’d be completely lost.

“Umm…I don’t really want anything. I just woke up, and I was in here. I don’t have any idea how I got here…I think it’s because I’m dead, though.”

Was that a decent enough response? Hopefully, because that was all I could give her. Besides, this girl must have known a ton more than I did. Still, I began to feel like we were not seeing eye to eye.

Nonetheless, something in what I said made this Azami arch her eyebrows high. “Dead…? Did…Did you get swallowed up when you died?!”

“Swallowed up? …Oh.”

Come to think of it, I remembered seeing this gigantic mouth just before the big moment. I don’t know if I fell in or not, but that must have been what she meant.

“Yeah, uh…I think I saw something like that.”

“You did?! Tell me more! Every detail!”

Now I had her attention. Not that it drove her to open the door.

“All right,” I said, getting a little irritated. “Could you let me in first? I’ll tell you everything then.”

Azami, fidgeting to and fro up to now, stopped. She didn’t seem to be a fan of the suggestion. “You aren’t thinking about doing something funny, are you?” she asked after a few moments.

What’s she mean, something funny? Did she think I was going to swallow her whole or push her into the oven?

“I’m not, I’m not. I mean, what is it about me that’s frightening you?”

That got the door open. I must have convinced her. “…Get in,” she said before turning on her heels and walking away.

I followed her in, only to find that the inside of the house was even more of a fantasy realm than the outside. Bookshelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, packed to the gills with what looked like a bunch of very old books. It was decorated kind of like the mansion I used to call home, although there wasn’t any stomach-churning gaudiness.

That only added to the cute coziness of it. In terms of whether I liked it or not, I can only say that I preferred it to my old home by leaps and bounds.

As I took in the room, Azami eyed me even more suspiciously than before.

“You…You won’t find anything valuable in here.”

She thought I was going to ransack the place for jewelry or something? Talk about paranoia.

“I’m not thinking about taking anything, I promise…”

“Hmph,” Azami snorted, pointing at a small chair by the window. “Sit down.”

I did as told. There was another, equally small table nearby, just tall enough to rest your elbows on. It was the perfect little furniture set for having tea and taking in some light reading.

Azami settled down on the seat opposite me, then carefully studied my face. Judging by her body language, I figured I was the first guest she had seen in ages. She immediately kicked off our meeting with “What kind of joke is this?” so for all I knew, I could be the first visitor ever.

But the more I thought about this house—as neatly furnished as it was—the more it seemed eerie. There was no town, nor anything else, near her, but she had books, a table, some chairs…Where did she get them from?

There was a ton I wanted to ask, and not just about this world. Azami didn’t seem willing to talk unless I started, so I spoke up.

“So…where am I, anyway? I guess you’re living by yourself, but do you know anything?”

Azami’s face hardened at the question. “Do I know anything? Of course I do. I created this.”

…Did I hear that right?

“Um…You created this house?”

This only served to further irk Azami.

“My husband built this place. I’m saying that I created this world.”

I could tell we were having trouble understanding each other. Azami created this world of darkness? How could this petite woman do something as divine as that? It was hard to believe. I stared at her for a moment.

“Don’t believe me, do you?” she said in reply, clearly annoyed. Then she averted her eyes.

I couldn’t afford to offend this woman any further. But I couldn’t just swallow it, either. I decided to go for the truth:

“It’s not that…I just mean, it’s not like some regular person can create a world…”

“Some regular person…?” Something about what I said made Azami hold her mouth open. She reacted to the most unexpected things. “Do you think I’m human, woman?”

“Huh? Well, uh, yeah, I thought you were a normal girl…”

Then I noticed it. The twisting hair behind her red eyes. The scales ever so slightly running down her cheeks. I thought it was a bit odd at first, but nothing about that seemed to be makeup. The more I looked at Azami, the more I was convinced of that.

“You…aren’t human?” I said.

“You are such a weird creature,” she brusquely muttered.

I really think you’re being the weird one here, but…

I mean, her calling herself nonhuman was, in and of itself, unbelievable.

It wasn’t like her looks were totally inexplicable. Hollywood could do all kinds of tricks with makeup, turning actors into horrible monsters. That explanation seemed a lot more realistic to me. But once again, that assumed the existence of “reality” in the first place. I was dead. That I was carrying on a conversation right now was, in itself, unrealistic.

So if Azami wasn’t a human being, that meant I didn’t have any evidence to prove that she didn’t create this world, either. I was approaching this from totally the wrong angle. Reality as I knew it had nothing to do with the realm I’d found myself in.

If I was going to keep up this chat with Azami, the first thing I had to do was take all my preconceptions about “reality” and toss them right out the window.

“…All right. I’m sorry. I kind of doubted you a little.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Azami replied, watching me like I was some rare, precious bauble.

There was a pause. I gave it another try. “So, about here…I originally thought that this was hell or…something.”

“Hell? Oh, that silly superstition you humans created for yourselves? How could something like that ever exist?”

“Maybe not, but this sure seems a lot like it to me. Like, how did you even create this, Azami?”

There was nothing but black emptiness out the window. I doubt she took a giant paintbrush and daubed black over everything. Figuring out how to create huge new spaces was itself, after all, beyond the bounds of reality. I was starting to take an honest interest in this character before me.

“I’m not like you humans,” she said distractedly, her face back to her usual glare. “I can do well near anything I fancy. With my abilities, crafting a world like this is child’s play.”

She gave me a prideful smile.

Child’s play to create a world? That really was in the realm of gods. Maybe Azami was something like that, then? Something in me wanted to see it happen. I soldiered on.

“It’s that easy? Could you just, like, make one right now?”

Azami’s shoulders shook at the question. “Not…now, no.”

“…So what can you do?”

“I…Not very much.” She slumped her eyes downward, the confidence of ten seconds ago gone. I started to feel like she was just messing with me. “I left most of my abilities in my body when I came here. Right now, talking to you is about all I can muster.”

Now she looked nearly ready to cry. So is she this amazing goddess, or not? I was having trouble following.

“Oh,” I said.

This clearly offended Azami. “You don’t believe me, do you? Well, fine. Once I regain my abilities, I’ll make sure you’re the one who gets to experience them first!”

No, um…You really don’t have to, thanks. Though I suppose I didn’t have much reason to doubt her. Feeding me a line didn’t serve to help her at all, and it wasn’t like my luck was about to get any worse, regardless. Going forward, I decided to just assume she was being truthful.

“But, I mean…abilities? What do you mean, you ‘left your body’? Your body’s right here, Azami.”

Azami let out a sigh. “Maybe it looks that way, but it’s not. I’m using a power that I call ‘awakening eyes’ that lets me move around by my consciousness alone.”

“Awakening eyes”? Pretty fancy name. But that wasn’t the full explanation I had hoped for. What did she mean by “my consciousness alone”? I arched an eyebrow at her.

“I suppose you would describe it as my ‘soul,’” she added. “That’s all that remains of me.”

Ah. That makes more sense. But…wait a second. Does that mean…?

“So…so are you some kind of ghost…?”

“Like you’re not,” came the exasperated reply.

She had a point. It was annoying, how being dead didn’t feel the part at all.

Azami looked out the window. “A long time ago,” she said in a complaining voice, “I was tricked by this evil presence. I had my body taken from me, my family…Everything. I managed to escape alive, but without any of my abilities, I’m helpless.”

This story was sounding more pitiful with every new development. Does that mean she’s been alone here the whole time? Just being alone for a little while was enough to give me cabin fever. Her, on the other hand…

“…Well, can’t you get your body back? Like, break into that evil guy’s hideout, or…?”

Azami gave me a wistful grin. “Even if this spirit was back in my body, I still couldn’t accomplish much. I’ve lost my ‘combining eyes’ skill—the one that grants me control over all the other skills.”

“You lost it? Did you drop it somewhere?”

“No. It doesn’t work that way. I gave it to my granddaughter…so she could live.” Her voice took on a weary tone as her eyes narrowed. “She’s in the outside world now. I hope she’s doing all right. Not too lonely, I fear.”

I could tell that tears were starting to form in Azami’s crimson-red eyes. I knew full well how painful it was to be separated from your family. It must have hurt her just as badly, never getting to see her grand—

…Huh?

“A-Azami, you’re a grandmother?!”

“Mm? What? What’s so strange about that?”

Strange? At the very, very most, Azami looked to be around twenty. Not at all old enough for anyone to call her “Granny.” All this talk about creating worlds and existing in spirit form was so astounding, it made me all the readier to believe it—but a grandmother? With those looks?

…Ugh. This isn’t working. My imagination’s going wild on me. It’s making me lose my suspension of disbelief!

“I told you!” Azami suddenly erupted into laughter. “I’m not a human being! I don’t age like you, and my external appearance never changes.” She paused to wipe a tear from the outside edge of her eye. “I tell you, I never thought the day would come when I’d speak to another human being like him. You are so entertaining.”

She probably didn’t mean that ironically, but having someone laugh at me to the point of tears was a tad embarrassing. I could feel myself blushing. Time to change the subject.

“Uh, b-by the way! What did you want to ask me, Azami? You acted like my showing up was a huge surprise…”

Azami responded with a look of ignorance at first before the realization kicked on. “Ah yes! You said you were swallowed up at the moment of death before making your way here. Are you sure about that?”

“Um? Uh…I think so, probably.” I only said it because I wanted her to open the door, but she was right, anyway. The searing flames, the giant open mouth…Everything else around me the instant death arrived was hazy by comparison, but for some reason, that image was etched into my mind.

“Were…Were you alone at the time? You weren’t with anyone else, were you…?”

“Um…I was with my sister.”

Azami visibly paled.

“Wh-what? Is that bad?”

“Right now, I can’t issue any commands to the Kagerou Daze…This world we’re in. I had my suspicions, but I never thought it’d actually happen…”

Kagerou…Daze? Is that the name Azami gave it? I didn’t know what it meant…but I kinda liked the feel of it. But if she couldn’t “issue any commands” to it, did that mean it was beyond her control?

She mentioned that most of her abilities were left with her body; maybe that has something to do with it. But how’s it all connect with me being sucked into this world?

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Back when I still had power over this world,” Azami replied with some reluctance, “my daughter and granddaughter were attacked by humans in the world outside the Kagerou Daze. They were both in a horrible state…I couldn’t bear to see it, so I casually issued an order to my world: ‘Bring in two people on the brink of death.’ But when they arrived, they were already lifeless, so I had to give them replacement lives.”

“Replacement lives…?” Something like the “souls” Azami mentioned earlier? I waited for Azami to continue, only to see her bring both palms out in front of her.

“I originally held sway over ten different powers. It turns out these could be used as a replacement for human lives, but apparently, different powers could be more, or less, compatible with certain people. And sadly, both my daughter and her daughter were compatible with just one power—the same one, my ‘combining eyes.’ The power I used to control the Kagerou Daze itself.”

Her voice began to shake.

“I had no idea which one I should breathe ‘life’ back into. But my daughter stepped up and told me…She wanted me to give it to her own child. That she didn’t need it. So…”

She could go on no further. She started sobbing.

…It was so incredibly cruel. If only one “life” could work for the two of them and it couldn’t be split up, one would naturally have to decide which would be resurrected and which condemned to death. But her daughter gave up her lone chance for the sake of her own child—Azami’s granddaughter. I could only assume she was gone forever.

“…Ever since then,” Azami continued, still sniffling, “I haven’t been able to handle any of my own abilities, much less the Kagerou Daze. I’ve still hung on to my ‘opening eyes’ skill, if barely, but there’s no telling when it may disappear…”

Azami looked down at her palms, face tinged with anxiety. The abilities that take the place of lives, the true nature of this world…It was so far beyond the realms of reality, but her story all fit together, oddly enough. It didn’t feel like she was lying. But something still didn’t make sense.

“All right. I understand that…but, Azami, what does that have to do with me getting swallowed into this world?”

Azami looked terribly pained. “Don’t you see?” she sobbed out. “I ordered the Kagerou Daze to ‘bring in two people on the brink of death.’ I never told it to stop!”

I had trouble digesting this for a moment.

Presumably, Azami lost the ability to give orders with that final one—which was “bring in two people on the brink of death.” My mind began to construct a theory that I didn’t like much.

“Wait…So you mean…”

Azami quietly nodded.

“The Kagerou Daze is sucking in ‘two people on the brink of death’ over and over again. Bringing them in here, into this world without time, leaving them to wander aimlessly without even being granted the gift of death. Just like it did to you.”

Her blood-red eyes, laden with sadness, turned toward me. I felt like my heart was about to skip a beat. It would have, normally. That was how twisted and confused my head was. But my heart wasn’t racing—or, for that matter, moving at all. It was long over for me.

I knew Azami wasn’t lying. If she wanted to unnerve me, she could’ve told me all kinds of scarier tales…and if it was a lie, her eyes wouldn’t have been that sad.

Kagerou Daze…A world without time.

If it’s been set to take in people two at a time, that must mean my sister is somewhere in here as well. Sitting somewhere in the dark, just like I was before I encountered Azami…

If “dying” means not feeling anything anymore…then this really is hell in the end, isn’t it? We’re going to be locked in here forever, never dying, never disappearing. But it was odd how I didn’t feel anything in the way of fear. Just a seemingly boundless sadness, one that filled all my heart.

“…Wh-why can you use that?!” Azami suddenly shouted at me. Her crimson eyes were wide open again, just like when we first met. I wasn’t sure what she meant by “using” anything. I hadn’t done anything in particular, apart from sit by the table, lost in thought.

“Huh? What do you mean by ‘that’…?”

Azami got up off her chair, ignoring me. Then, without warning, she thrusted her arm toward my chest.

“Whoa!” I shouted in surprise, standing and turning around to dodge it. “What’re you doing? Did I do something I shouldn’t have…?”

My voice stopped at Azami’s behavior. I was turned away from her, standing on the opposite edge of the window in front of the chair. She, meanwhile, was pawing at the air above the chair I had been sitting on before, like a cat playing with a toy. She kept intoning “Hey…Hey…!” as she did, like some kind of mantra.

…Great. I broke Azami. All the worry about her granddaughter must’ve pushed her over the brink. But I couldn’t blame her; her story was compellingly sad, something that came across all too clearly as she relayed it. Just talking about her must have made something crack in her mind.

I felt terrible about it, enough so that I decided to give Azami, still shouting “Hey!” repeatedly, a reassuring pat.

“Aaaagh!!”

She leaped up on the spot and fell, taking the table with her. I reared back, put off by this even more bizarre behavior. I had no idea what was driving her to act like this. She rubbed her now-tender hip a bit, then glared at me so sharply I could almost hear the zing sound effect.

“Wh-why’d you have to surprise me like that? What are you thinking, you fool?!”

“Fool?” I shot back, resentful of this sudden barrage. “I was just worrying about you! Besides, why were you ignoring me just now?!”

“Nnngh…,” she said, faltering at my verbal attack. I thought she was going to fire back; getting that reaction instead was something of a letdown. Considering her attitude, she was kind of a wimp, I supposed.

Azami, still on the floor, pointed up at me. “Y-you’re the one who vanished into thin air,” she said, more softly this time. “You can’t expect me to hear you when you’ve disappeared like that.”

“Disappeared? What are you even talking about?”

She limply curled back her finger, her face in total confusion. “You just used ‘concealing’ on me, didn’t you? How do you expect me to see you then?”

…This is a waste of time. What is this girl even saying? It was getting annoying, I thought as Azami gasped once again.

“W-wait,” she said. “Did you use that unconsciously…?”

“I told you,” I shouted, “I have no idea what you’re talking about! Start making sense for a change!”

Azami shivered in response, curling her legs close to her body. “Um, sorry,” I said, not expecting it to affect her that much, and she nodded in reply. Considering she was a grandmother, she was acting awfully childlike.

Coming to her feet, she placed her right hand on my side. “You just used an ability that’s known as ‘concealing eyes.’ When you use that, you can make both yourself and nearly anything else invisible to other people.”

“Oh…? Wait, I used that? When?!”

“Just now, like I said. Just using that unconsciously…It’s so much like how I used to be,” she said as she brought a hand to her forehead and sighed.

I used a “power”? What is she talking about? All I did was sit down and think a little. I didn’t say any magic words or wave my hands around or anything.

I must have looked terribly doubtful to Azami, because she said, “Wait one moment” and turned toward the small desk nestled in between the shelves. She rummaged around the drawers a bit before coming back with a small hand mirror. “Here,” she said bluntly, pointing it at me. “Do it again.”

“Huh? I told you, I’m not using any power…”

She continued to point the mirror at me, lips pouted. My face in the mirror looked extremely irritated. I didn’t know how to “do” anything, and how could I, anyway? I thought about protesting again, but her silent pressure finally broke me down.

I closed my eyes, trying to focus on some vague idea. Like before, nothing in particular came up. Just a picture of my sister, the girl swallowed up in here with me.

…Why did I have to think about that? It made me recall everything again. Thinking about her only made me feel sad.

“…Look, Azami, this isn’t accomplishing anything. I think you’ve got the wrong idea or…something…”

I opened my eyes to find Azami grinning at me in a “There, you see?” kind of way. But it was just her. The image of an irritated-looking Tsubomi Kido in the mirror was gone—all it showed were the shelves that loomed behind me.

“What the…?!”

“Just as I said, you can use it!” she said, lowering her mirror and giving me a slap on the head with it. It didn’t hurt at all, surprisingly.

“Whoa…A-Azami, how do I get back to normal?!”

Before I could finish, an exasperated Azami showed me the mirror again. It was filled with my alarmed expression. “That’s how ‘concealing eyes’ works,” she said. “You don’t have to be so suspicious of me, you know.”

I marveled at this as she went over to prop the table back up. I was invisible just now. Totally. It was enough to surprise Azami, even—that catlike act must’ve been her searching for me. And the way she ignored me when I protested…

“Hang on, so you can’t hear me, either?”

“What’re you talking about?” she said as she fixed the desk’s position. “Of course not. You could’ve shouted at the top of your lungs, and I wouldn’t hear a thing…as long as you don’t touch me.”

I swallowed nervously. These ‘concealing eyes’…Powers like these actually exist. Azami was telling the truth. And while I’d had trouble believing everything at first, she must’ve been telling the truth about creating this world…

I stood there, stuck dumb, as Azami took a seat and sighed. “By the way, Tsubomi, where did you get that ability? Because I never ran into anyone like that when I was still in the outside world.”

“No, I…” I shook my head. “Like I said, I’m just as surprised as you are. I had no idea I was capable of using this.”

“Ooogh,” Azami groaned, perplexed. I was clearly not giving her the answer she was looking for. It must have been incredibly frustrating.

…And Azami used to be in my world? She talked about absorbing her daughter into this one, so I assumed she must have lived with her family over there…but why was she holed up in here right now? It was a mystery to me.

She sat there for a bit, stewing to herself, then raised her head suddenly to look at me.

“Wh-what…?”

“No, I…I think I’ve got it,” she said, giving herself a few convincing nods as if that would explain anything. I leaned forward, prodding her to continue.

“Like I said,” she began, choosing her words carefully, “the Kagerou Daze swallowed you up because you met the conditions I gave it. You were just about to die, right?”

“Yeah, that much is true…I think.”

“But this is weird, though. When I brought my family in here, they weren’t in any state to walk around and talk to me like you are.”

Indeed. She described it as “horrible” a moment ago, and that did make me wonder a little—why was I in perfect condition, then?

“I was thinking,” Azami continued before I could ask. “Maybe you’re uniquely compatible with the ‘concealing eyes’ skill in some way. You have to be, or else you couldn’t use it.”

“Compatible…?” I stated blankly.

“I’m not sure how it happened, but essentially, that power is serving as a ‘replacement’ for your life…You should be glad for it,” she said, turning her face downward so I couldn’t gauge her expression. It seemed there was a little bit of sadness to her lips.

I thought over what she had said, then realized what she meant. Azami’s granddaughter had gained a power that gave her a second lease on life…and then she escaped this world. Which meant that—presumably—I was about to, too.

Suddenly, I felt something heavy squirm in my chest. Something I wanted to spit out, but I couldn’t get it to budge at all. An indescribable feeling of guilt that I could never forget.

Azami tilted an eyebrow at my pained expression. My reaction puzzled her, no doubt. Declared dead once, then granted the right to live again—most people would jump for joy at the concept. Even in this world, too, there must have been tons of people who’d want nothing more than another chance at life. Rin among them, I’m sure. She didn’t deserve to die in that fire. She’d make so many people so much happier if she were still alive.

…So why was I deemed the “compatible” one?

“Wh-what’s wrong?” a concerned-looking Azami asked. “Is leaving this world making you—?”

“I don’t want to go,” I whispered, stopping Azami dead in her tracks. “What was it you said? ‘Concealing eyes’? …I don’t need it. Give it to someone else. I don’t want to be resurrected, anyway.”

Azami whirled to her feet, worried. “What are you saying? You still look more than young enough to me. Besides…you had a family, too, didn’t you?”

Something about her seemed far more human than a lot of the humans I knew on the outside. She had created a world and performed all manner of other superhuman tasks, but everything about her suggested she and I were alike. It was weird…but really, she was a nice person. And I could tell she was looking at me and picturing her own child and grandchild.

I knew I had no business saying what I was about to say. I was being terrible.

“No, I don’t. Nothing at all. I killed my own father just before I came here.”

I could hear Azami emit a small, soft sound that nevertheless sounded like a scream. Her face was discolored with grief, as if she had been plunged into a deep well of despair. Really, what makes her so nonhuman, anyway? This person, worrying herself sick over someone she had only just met—people as kind as her are rarer than hen’s teeth in the outside world.

Compared with her, me and my father…we’re far more like monsters than she is.

…If anything, it’s Azami who deserves to get out. This used to be Azami’s power, I guess—it wasn’t a matter of being “compatible” or whatever. Then she could get to see her granddaughter again. That’d be far more meaningful than someone like me getting back out.

I had resolved to tell her this, but Azami stopped me just as I opened my mouth.

“…You had to, didn’t you?”

The words stabbed deeply into my chest. She approached me, cautiously, and continued.

“You, you must have had some reason for it, didn’t you? Killing your father…I mean, you’re such a nice person.”

She tried to put a hand on my shoulder, I guess in an attempt to soothe me. But no matter the reason, I just couldn’t accept it. I audibly slapped her hand back. “I’m not nice at all!” I shouted. “I killed another person! How could…How could you ever understand that?!”

The words echoed a little in the book-lined chamber as I stared her down. It was followed by a small, stony silence.

I wonder what Azami felt—stepping up to reassure someone, only to be snapped at in reply. Nothing about her face indicated fear anymore. Her jet-black hair waved in the air as she watched me, and I could no longer tell what she was thinking.

Then, slowly, Azami opened her mouth. I turned my eyes away from her face, unable to stand it anymore. She could say pretty much anything right now, I thought. If she tells me to leave…I will.

I closed my eyes, waiting for it, only to be taken by an oddly nostalgic feeling from the top of my head. It was something I thought I’d never feel again, and it made my tensed-up body relax.

“…You must have been scared. Alone. I used to be like you—afraid, running wild. I killed…many times.”

Her palm gracefully caressed my head. I couldn’t respond, trying too hard to hide my own rushing emotions. I didn’t know if she knew that or not.

“It was my husband and my daughter who saved me. And I think you’ll find someone soon who’ll be your own savior. That’s why…”

She brought her head closer to mine.

“…I want you to live. Don’t choose death for yourself. That’s just foolish.”

“Then…Then I want you to come with me, Azami. I…I can’t put up with these horrible memories by myself…!”

Azami gave me an apologetic look.

Oh, what am I even saying now? I never acted like such a spoiled brat to my own mother, even. I knew she couldn’t. If she could, she would’ve left long ago. But after thinking for a moment, she said, “Look this way,” stared at me, and fell silent.

The moment she did, every hair on my body stood on end. The mere act of her looking at me suddenly made the entire atmosphere change. Her eyes, red as pomegranates, were imbued with enough force to absorb everything they gazed upon. It wasn’t fear, exactly. It was the first time I felt that way in my life. A kind of frightened awe, I suppose. It was hard to so much as lift a finger.

“I am going to use the lone ability I still have with me. Once I do, I’ll be able to convey to you all the thoughts, all the emotions I cannot put into words. I will show you how to truly use your ‘concealing’ skill.”

I couldn’t reply nor even nod. It was like my body had been turned to stone. Azami showed me an expression I had never seen from her before—one of a sad loneliness.

“The power to ‘conceal’ works on memories as well. It can envelop and cover all of them—even the saddest and most unbearable memories that have eaten into your mind. I want you to forget those memories…Forget about me and live a happy life.”

I struggled to open my mouth. This was probably the end. I had to get at least one word out before then…

“…Ah. And if you run into my granddaughter in the outside world…I hope you’ll befriend her.”

Come on. Convey this feeling. Put it into words…

“…All right. I promise.”

At the very end, Azami quietly nodded, the tears welling in her red eyes.

“…‘Projecting eyes.’”