YOBANASHI DECEIVE 2

Summer was over.

The stifling heat and the cries of a million insects all vanished somewhere without a trace, leaving me alone.

I lay flat in my room—really more of a storage closet—continuing to live and breathe, nothing to do today or any other day.

After my mother was gone, I was passed around from this place to that for a while before winding up here.

The couple who owned this building I was in were related to my mother, apparently. Not by blood. Really, it couldn’t have been a shallower relationship.

Two months have passed.

I, the lone survivor, didn’t even think about dying.

The experience made me realize that any reason I had for living, or dying, was defined purely on the basis of me having a mother.

Even if I died here, what would that accomplish?

No matter what I did, I would never see my mother again. It was all meaningless.

The only thing that didn’t change was that I was still my mother’s son.

If I, left alone, did anything to cause trouble for other people—especially dying, most of all—I’d never be able to explain it to her.

It was nearly impossible for me to stand.

So I kept living on as the meaningless days passed, one after the other.

That seemed like the most intelligent approach to take.

I was lying on my back, staring listlessly at the ceiling, when a chill breeze from the open window pushed into the room.

If I was sure about anything right now, it was that this couldn’t last.

I needed to become stronger, I needed to find work, I needed to eat.

But before all that, I needed to grow up…

The moment the words “grow up” flashed across my mind, I felt like something was squirming around within my heart.

I sat up with a shiver. It seemed to pass. No pain, no difficulty breathing.

“What was that…?”

Maybe I shouldn’t have left the window open.

If I was catching the flu or something, that was seriously bad news.

I didn’t have the impression that the landlords here were particularly fond of me.

Me breaking into a fever would make them scowl at me even more, no doubt.

If I wanted to be fully prepared, I should probably take some cold medicine or something, shouldn’t I? Hmm.

I think I remembered them telling me where the medicine cabinet was when they were giving me their very hurried tour of the place.

I didn’t recall the exact location, but if they bothered to show it to me, they must have intended for me to use it.

“Hmm…Maybe I should ask.”

Asking for permission along with confirmation would kill two birds with one stone. Let’s nip this in the bud before it gets worse.

I stood up and left the room.

Even the hallways of this place exuded elegant refinement. It was positively extravagant, especially compared to the dingy place I used to live.

Although, really, it wasn’t like I could expect any kind of regular family here, either.

Maybe this label of “extravagant” is based on the biases created by my upbringing. If someone told me this place was normal, I wouldn’t have anything to fire back with.

Still, though.

I never said it out loud, and I never intended to, but the bits of décor installed here and there, the works of art hung on the front-door hallway—I wouldn’t exactly call much of it in good taste.

Walking down the hall, I went face-to-face with an ominous-looking bit of sculpture. I couldn’t tell whether it was supposed to represent an animal or something, but there it was.

Probably some kind of souvenir from one overseas trip or another.

I knew the sculptor wasn’t at fault for it or anything, but as the person who had to dust it every day, I wished I could have called him up and said, “Couldn’t you have made this a little less intricate?”

Passing it by, I opened the door to the kitchen and went inside.

It was almost time for dinner. If the lady who ran the house—I called her my aunt, because I couldn’t call her “ma’am” forever—was there, that would’ve made things simple for me.

But my aim must have been off. Nobody was around in the kitchen, and judging by the pile of dishes taken out of the dishwasher, dinner wasn’t going to be ready anytime soon.

“No one, huh…? Hmm. Now what…?”

I didn’t quite have the nerve to run up to my aunt’s room and ask her where the medicine was. But it made me feel awkward to just sit and wait for her, too.

Luckily, though, my trip to the kitchen helped jog my memory of the location a little.

I thought I remembered it being in one of the drawers in the tea cabinet.

No point obsessing over it all day. I’ll just try opening a few and see what pops out. If I find it, I’ll take a dose and go back to my room.

I took a step toward the large wooden tea cabinet that loomed large on the other side of the kitchen.

But—and there’s no reason why I shouldn’t have just ignored it—for some reason, I shot a quick glance toward the pile of dishes.

Next to the stack of elegantly designed kitchenware, there was a single knife laid on top of a washcloth.

It was the same type that man used to stab my mother back on that day.

A shiver ran down my spine as my heart skipped a little.

It wasn’t the knife that took my mother’s life, of course. This one was well-worn and clearly used, for example.

I reached out to have a closer look.

Grabbing the handle and picking it up, I realized the knife had some heft to it.

It was every bit the equal of the rest of the house’s furnishings. It must have cost someone a bundle.

“…Geez, Mom. You bought something as nice as this, and you died without ever using it…”

My mother was remarkably chatty the day she bought that cutlery set.

She pretty much forgot about it the next day, but at the time, her eyes practically sparkled as she went on about it, like, “I can make some really nice dishes with these” and so on.

Thinking about that subjected me to a sudden onrush of loneliness.

My mother’s face, her voice, her scent floated into my mind, as fresh as new.

Mom…

“Yaaaaggghhh!!”

The scream threw me out of my trance.

Turning my head, I saw my aunt at the edge of the kitchen, just about ready to start with dinner.

Her face was taut, like a ghost just crossed her path. Abject fear was written across it.

Oh, no.

The sight of me holding a knife must’ve startled her.

“Oh, I, I’m sorry! I was just looking at it a little!”

Hurriedly, I placed the knife back on the washcloth and held my palms out at my aunt, virtually in self-defense.

I had no intention of attacking her at all, of course, so this seemed like the best plan of action.

Hopefully, this would calm her down a bit. I didn’t want to give the wrong impression and have her call the police on me. That would be bad.

But.

Not only did my aunt not breathe a sigh of relief—her face grew even paler, more pallid, as she began to tremble.

Something was clearly wrong with her. I had no idea what was paralyzing her with fear so badly.

Just as I opened my mouth, searching for some way to defuse the situation, my aunt began speaking in a half scream, half gibber.

“Wh-why, why are you…?! Do, do you have some kind of grudge against us?!”

A grudge…? I had no recollection of anything like that.

If anything, I was honestly glad they gave me free room and board.

“No, I…Um, if you could just calm down a sec…”

I still couldn’t fathom my aunt’s behavior, but in a valiant attempt to ease this misunderstanding, I took a step or two toward her.

I was still waving my open palms left and right at her. I couldn’t have possibly looked hostile to anyone…

“Ahh—aggghghhh!! G-get away from me!”

The effort was in vain. With a crazed shriek, my aunt made a flying dash for the hallway.

“Ahh! H-hey, wait a minute!”

I wasn’t sure my aunt heard me as she opened the front door and ran off to points unknown.

The only thing that echoed across the elegant manor was the loud slamming of the door behind her.

Ah, crap. Crap, crap, crap.

This was getting way out of hand.

I had no intention at all of doing…whatever I did. This had to be some kind of gigantic mistake.

“Wh-what should I do?! Ahhh…”

I stood there for a minute, shaking my head at myself, hand to my temple. This inexplicably failed to reverse the course of time.

Great. Why did I have to go and do something like that again?

I should have just stayed there, in my room, and been a good kid.

If I didn’t think about something as stupid as taking some medicine as insurance against the flu, none of this would have ever happened…

I shot a cold stare at the knife, ruing its very existence.

It was that thing’s fault, too.

How much grief is it going to put me through until it’s happy?

Something about the elegant blade, glinting in glee at my misery, made me want to scream with anger.

I knew it wouldn’t accomplish anything, but I swiftly took up the handle again.

Let’s just throw this away somewhere. No—it’d be better for me if I sold it off. My mind ran circles around itself for a moment before I caught sight of the blade’s mirrorlike surface.

“…Huh?!”

I was astonished. The impossible sight before me made me drop the knife at once, sending it clattering to the floor.

I brought a hand up to feel my face. Nothing seemed wrong with it. There was no way to confirm what I just saw unless I took another look.

Out of the kitchen I fled, passing by that tacky sculpture again as I tore into the bathroom.

The moment I made it in, I found myself in shock once more at the sight in the mirror above the sink.

“Wh-why?”

The sight before me wasn’t the familiar one I knew. It was my mother, in the flesh.

If this were me being reunited with my real mother, I would’ve immediately flown into her arms.

But that could never happen. My mother was dead.

It was strange, though, how coolheaded my mind was when faced with this bizarre sight.

I approached the mirror, giving myself a pinch on the cheek.

The face itself was beyond a doubt my mother’s, but the feedback my fingertips gave me indicated something else.

I spent a few more moments staring at the mirror.

Opening and closing my mouth a few times, I saw my mother make the exact same motion in the mirror.

There was no denying it. It was me.

What could have caused this? I had no clue whatsoever. But here I was. In the form of my mother.

The moment the thought struck me, I heard the gears begin to click together in my mind.

Is this what my aunt saw before she screamed her head off and bolted?

Well, no wonder she was acting like that.

Just when she went down to the kitchen for dinner, she saw her dead relative standing there, well-polished knife in “her” hand.

I couldn’t blame her for running. If that were me, I would’ve hugged her, but…

But what was I going to do now?

Staring at the mirror and whispering “I’ve been dying to see you” was both nonproductive and more than a little creepy.

I needed to regain my original looks as soon as I could.

My aunt was probably summoning the authorities right now. I didn’t have the time to stand around here, looking like (also, at) my mom.

Then again, would the police really come running if a hysterical woman went up to them and said, “My dead half-sister-in-law (or whatever it was) is in the kitchen with a knife!”?

That didn’t seem likely. No doubt they’d just brush her off and send her on her way. I still had some time to work with.

Taking yet another close look at my mother in the washbasin mirror, I failed to find any button I could press to go back to normal, nor any other obvious solution out of my dilemma.

When did I even start looking like this?

That reflection I glimpsed when I first picked up the knife was myself. No doubt about that.

And I gave my aunt the scare of her life just a moment or two after that. Somehow, I transformed in the stretch of that single instant.

But why, though…?

There was one cause and effect I could think of, actually.

“N-no way…”

I closed both of my eyes and attempted to follow the thread.

The one thing I did in that instant.

The way that I “recalled” my mother’s looks, her voice, her scent.

Maybe “recalling” another “target” would bring me back to normal.

But.

If that was all it took for an idiot like me to shapeshift at will, we’d have an entire planet full of shapeshifters. IDing people would be impossible.

I didn’t have much hope, to be honest.

But let’s focus here. Concentrate.

Think about a look, a sound, a scent…and “recall” it.

…Around thirty seconds passed, I supposed.

“Okay.”

I didn’t know whether it’d be enough time or not, but I opened my eyes.

“…Whoa! Serious?!”

The image of my mother in the mirror was gone without a trace.

In its place was someone else. The girl I encountered in that park around two months ago.

Her shape, her skin color, her striking eyes…Everything I remembered about the girl was there, unchanged, in its full glory.

“Wow! What the hell…? This is amazing!”

I don’t think I had experienced this kind of “fun” in my entire life before this point.

In fact, I knew I hadn’t.

That was how shocking, how bizarre, and how curiosity-stoking this phenomenon thrust before me seemed.

I knew it was a waste of time, but I couldn’t stave off the urge to find out what I could turn into next. It was like all the youthful mischief I bottled up during my life was being uncorked in a single afternoon.

The eyes of the girl in the mirror began to sparkle, just as she did when she talked about her “secret move.”

This must be it. How you felt at that moment.

No wonder you were so eager to latch on to me like that.

Come to think of it, I never saw her after that day—after I made that promise.

If I ever get to meet her again, I’m gonna give her the surprise of the millennium.

I skipped around the bathroom a little, enjoying life as a girl for a few more moments, until I heard someone unlatching the front door.

My body froze on the spot. An uncomfortable sweat began to pour from my brow.

Straining my ears, I could hear my aunt shouting, “In here! There’s a strange woman…!”

Wow. Smart move on her part.

I wasn’t a “ghost”; I was an “intruder.” That was the trick she needed to get the cops in here.

Playtime was clearly over for now.

This really wasn’t any time for playing in the first place, admittedly, but now it was even less that time.

Luckily, it sounded like they were playing it safe. I didn’t hear any heavy footsteps tromping their way down the hallway yet.

Better get back to the original me before then. Having her intruder vanish might put my aunt in an awkward position with the police, but there wasn’t much I could do about that.

I’ll just have to atone for it later, somehow.

I closed my eyes. The darkness spread before them.

I focused as much as I could, straining to recall my shape, my scent, my voice…

Here I am…!

“…Um. Uh-oh.”

The sweat began to form waterfalls.

Crap. I couldn’t recall myself at all.

How little interest did I have in myself all my life, anyway?

Thinking about it, I realized I never had my picture taken. I had a habit of avoiding myself in the mirror, too.

And now that we were on this topic, I never thought much about my own voice, and that went double for how I smelled.

I held out against hope as I opened my eyes. I wasn’t disappointed. Just as I expected, the same pale girl as before greeted me.

Her face stiffened further as she heard the creak of multiple feet against the wooden floor.

I’d love for the cops to catch me looking like this. And what a huge pain it’d be on the real girl, too.

I scrambled to think of someone else to turn into, but with my mind about to short circuit, there was no way to focus on anything any longer.

“I—I gotta hide…!”

There was a separate room on the other side of the chamber that housed the actual bathtub and shower.

It wouldn’t suffice as a hiding spot for more than a few moments, really, but it beat standing right in front of the sink like this.

My mind made up, I sprang into action.

Then, on my first step, I tripped on the edge of the bathmat and fell to the floor.

“Ow!!”

A dull, yet intense pain erupted from my back.

Spotting my yelp, the multiple presences mere feet away from me in the hallway stormed into the bathroom.

As I expected, several police officers filed in, glaring down at what I presumed was still a young girl on the floor. My heart froze.

I had no idea how I was going to apologize to her for this.

Assuming I’d ever have the chance. If people found out I had this power, they’d instantly brand me as the cause behind all this furor.

I couldn’t even imagine how much of a pain in the ass that was going to be.

This was all my fault. I couldn’t even begin to apologize. I am such a careless idiot.

Just as I was about to drown in my own self-pity, one of the officers extended a hand out to me, the others still on high alert.

“You all right, kid? What happened in here?”

“Oh, uh, nothing. I just kinda tripped on the mat here…”

I told him the truth…somewhat selectively. Yes, that’s definitely what happened in the last half second, officer.

“Oh. Okay. Um…is there anyone else besides you?”

“No…,” I said, shivering for a moment.

Then, from behind the cops, my aunt fearfully peeked in at me.

It’s over. I’m dead.

I was sure the sight of this mystery girl would give her a heart attack.

After that, all the dominoes would fall at once.

I’d be taken away somewhere, interrogated…and I didn’t even want to imagine what came after that.

But despite my dreadful expectations, my aunt’s reaction defied all of them.

“Shuuya, what are you doing?”

“Huh?”

Being called by my name was usually nothing of particular note. But in these circumstances, it held major meaning.

I clambered back to my feet and stared into the mirror. And there I was. Back to my old self, a little teary-eyed.

“Sh-Shuuya? What’s going on with you?”

I didn’t respond. I was too busy pondering why I was back to myself.

“…Pain!”

The conclusion seemed a tad ironic to me.

That bolt of pain that shot across my back.

The one reaction I had to that…was nostalgia. Familiarity.

I thought I was used to the pain. But that was a grave mistake.

To me, pain was something I needed to truly feel like myself. The only identity I really had.

The idea of pain being my only insight into myself…Is that how little my own mind cared about me?

As everyone else in the room looked on worriedly, I began laughing at myself. At the inanity of it all.

…The power to pose as someone else. To deceive people.

My first encounter with that eerie force was something I couldn’t have been more open to accepting.