Chapter 021
JUST THAT, SOMETHING smelled.
She didn’t know what time it was. Didn’t know where she was. Didn’t know anything.
She was scared of the dark.
She was scared of the dim.
She was scared of the sinister.
Without an accurate count, one minute and one second felt exactly the same.
Latitude and longitude and height…where those axes met was where she was.
Points had no mass.
Therefore, even a slight deviation would make her unsure of who she was. If there weren’t numerical values, she’d be as good as naught.
So if only someone would look over her, if only someone could assure her she was in fact there, Hazuki would not disappear from the world.
Rey Mao was right. The terminal was a terminus. But a terminus is also a concept. It too had no mass.
It was a terminus because it was connected to something behind it. No…
Not a terminus, a terminal.
The terminal was at the very edge of a space. In other words it was distinct from the body it terminated.
Being linked was what gave one a sense of being alive.
This world with another reality; Hazuki was only able to see through her monitor.
She didn’t know if she were dead or alive.
If Hazuki’s heart stopped, if her breath ceased, if her brain waves quit, nothing would change. It would be just one of countless terminals turning off. It would be the disappearance of something already without mass.
So why was she so scared.
Just thinking about it made her sit up straight, sturdy. Her fingers were shaking. Her throat dried up.
That man was carrying a knife. With that knife, with that sharp metal object, that man was going to cut her body. He was going to stab her.
Ow.
It hurts.
If she was going to feel this way, she would rather not live. This.
This was awful.
A creepy moaning voice.
The doves.
A sound that evaded description. It was the sound in their throats.
Nails clicking on the floor as they walked, feathers brushing up against feathers.
It was all disgusting. Animals were not cute. They didn’t look cute.
Hazuki was a little jealous of Yuko Yabe.
Yuko.
Yuko was dead.
It didn’t feel true. Nothing was real. And yet if it weren’t true why was she so sad.
Hazuki wrapped her arms around her knees and lowered her head and started to cry.
The doves started flapping around.
I want to die.
And just then.
The doors flew open.
The first thing Hazuki saw between the doors was a black silhouette set against a quiet.
Round.
Moon.
“Makino…” it called. “You’re here.”
Ayumi.
“Ayumi,” Hazuki uttered for the first time.
She wouldn’t listen to her body.
Or rather, times like this, Hazuki didn’t know how she was supposed to react, if she was supposed to at all.
She just lifted her face.
Tears fell one after the other.
They didn’t relieve her of her feelings.
Where were you? I was so scared. They tried to kill me. Why don’t you tell me anything? Why don’t you listen to me? Are you okay? I was worried.
Were you worried?
She had a mountain of things she wanted to say, ask. But none of them would express how she felt, what she thought—what was in her head was all expelled, and whatever a stranger might casually think of her could be right, could be wrong. So she said nothing and concluded after some thoughtful hesitation that she was sorry.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Ayumi was being her same old self.
Ayumi looked in on the doves behind her wire cage. Where Rey Mao had broken it.
“For coming up without permission.”
“I don’t mind. Did Mao do this?”
“Yeah,” Hazuki said and held her knees in again.
“Who chased you?”
“The area patrol.” Somehow, Hazuki was able to answer easily. Even though it was a horrifying experience.
“Real ones?”
“Real. But the same ones who kidnapped Yuko Yabe.”
“Ahh.” Ayumi stopped her hand on the wire fence. She looked up once.
“I didn’t know where else to go.”
“This place can’t be very safe either.”
“Really?”
“Apparently. That’s what Ms. Fuwa said. I think she’s right.”
“Fuwa? The counselor?”
“Yeah.”
“You met with the counselor?”
“Yeah. I wanted to leave you and Tsuzuki to her.”
“Leave?”
“I thought it would be dangerous to call the police or area patrol. Remember I didn’t let anyone call them before, either. You guys said it would be okay and called them anyway. So I thought I’d make myself useful.”
She was right. She’d been opposed to Mio’s plan to call the area patrol by way of Hazuki’s foster father. She’d said it would be dangerous.
Mio had said she didn’t know why it would be.
Hazuki…
…didn’t know either.
But eventually had agreed to it.
Pretending nothing had happened with Yuko made her sad, somehow.
But Ayumi’s conviction was correct. The patrol assailed her through the terminal through which she obtained the story.
“Fuwa…What did Ms. Fuwa…”
“She’s on our side,” Ayumi said.
“Our side…you mean we can rely on her?” Hazuki asked.
“I can’t honestly say if we can rely on her, but she will definitely not hurt us. I know that much.”
“You know that?”
Hazuki had no special feelings or thoughts on Fuwa. It was just that she didn’t hate her.
Fuwa had once said to her that there were things about children that a counselor would never know. She couldn’t remember when, but it left an impression on her, and since then, Hazuki’d felt positive about her. It was thousands of times better than the counselor pretending she knew more than she did.
“Adults are wise. Not like us. They’re good at telling lies, and have stature. But because she ran into us, now she has nowhere to go either.”
Had something happened to her?
Ayumi applied her weight to the wire frame and brought the sides together, re-establishing the barrier between the doves and humans.
Then Ayumi just looked at the doves for a while.
“I tried going to your house.”
“Mine?”
“There were lots of cops. The door was torn open, so anyone looking in could see what happened. Looked like your dad was there too, though I didn’t actually see him.”
Father.
I bet he’s worried.
Because he’s a nice man. But that could be one of the well-told lies Ayumi suggested adults were so good at, and it could just be adult nature too. Still, Hazuki thought he’d be worried.
She thought it, but couldn’t confirm it. She’d never felt like wanting to see him, but now, if even just slightly, she did. She wanted to see that he was worried about her, right in front of her. Otherwise.
She didn’t know.
“I just took a look at my monitor downstairs.”
Monitor.
The window into existence.
“There was a turtle icon on the screen. When I opened it there was a message from Tsuzuki.”
“Tsuzuki…”
Mio. What was Mio doing?
“Is she all right?”
“After she called you she said the police came. They’re suspicious of her because of her connection to the Cat. She’s being followed, so she couldn’t come here, and her house is being watched, so she can’t go back.”
“So…she’s okay.”
“I guess,” Ayumi said.
“I mean, if you’re surrounded by the police, you’re probably safe.”
“But you were attacked by the area patrol, right?”
“Yeah, but…”
“The police are not to be trusted at all. Even what happened at your house wasn’t reported correctly. They just made up some story. And that’s the story they’re telling your father. They’re saying the culprit was the same person who tore this metal fence.”
“Rey Mao? That’s wrong. She—”
“Rescued you, I know. She’s a champion of justice or something like that,” Ayumi said. “Sakura’s the one who saw through the lie. I heard from Sakura.”
“Sakura?”
“Funeral Girl.”
She was the one who’d come by Yuko Yabe’s house, according to Mio.
“She noticed something amiss in the information they were publishing, so she came over to my place to let me know. Then I went to your house, but it was dangerous, so I left. I was worried.”
“Worried, about me?”
Ayumi turned her head to Hazuki and nodded.
“Why?”
Ayumi had no reason to worry about Hazuki. And as Hazuki said as much, Ayumi turned and said, “You didn’t have to worry about Yuko either but you did.”
“Yeah, but…”
It didn’t feel the same. They’d never interacted with Sakura.
“Tsuzuki, Sakura…weirdos apparently worry about strangers. Don’t sweat it.”
“I’m not.”
She didn’t really understand.
“Did you respond to Tsuzuki’s message?”
“No. I don’t like sending messages.”
“I wonder if she’s okay,” Hazuki said.
“Look, now you’re worried.”
“Aren’t you? Don’t you worry about people?”
“No, I don’t,” Ayumi answered.
“But you came looking for me.”
“I came looking for you instead of worrying.”
Ayumi brought a box out from under the table and lifted the lid.
“People die, even though other people worry. And people live despite not wanting to anymore. It doesn’t matter what goes on in your heart; it won’t make a difference in this world. I don’t believe that praying or begging or concentrating on something will make it come true. So instead of worrying, it’s better to actually do something.”
“Do?”
“Worrying and thinking about something is all personal. Do something. I’m not good with people.” Ayumi brought out something heavy from the box.
“I know that much.”
“Right? Say for example I was really worried about you. But I don’t have the verbal strength to tell you that. Then you don’t know that I worried about you. And if we were separated, then you really don’t know that I worried. Then I have no choice but to do something. The heart doesn’t communicate.”
She closed the lid on the box.
“People’s hearts are kept in boxes like this. One can only make up what goes into it. People make up what goes into one another’s hearts and get the sense that they’ve communicated. Whether they’re right about what went in…can also only be made up. So,” Ayumi pointed to the lid. “There are people who learn to give names to what lies inside the box. People who notify others. Some people put labels on their boxes.
But no matter what you write or what the label says, you can’t open the lid, so you’ll never know if it’s true. Whether or not to trust someone is something you have to imagine.”
Ayumi put on training gloves.
“I can’t pretend to know how to label the lid, and I don’t like trying to imagine what’s inside the boxes of others. That’s why I’m alone.”
There was a swishing sound.
It was the sound of a shock-absorbent life vest being fastened onto Ayumi’s body.
“Am I cold?”
“I don’t know.”
No.
Hazuki knew exactly what Ayumi was saying.
But Hazuki was unable to carry herself like Ayumi. She didn’t think it was about strength or weakness.
Hazuki’s previous counselor, the one before Fuwa, had told her she needed to be stronger.
The counselor had told her not to depend so much on others, to be independent. Told her that at the end of the day, everyone was alone, so all one could do was protect oneself, the strong female counselor said.
She thought that sounded correct.
But five years ago, that counselor had committed suicide.
She didn’t think the counselor was wrong. Someone so good at protecting herself from the outside was probably able to destroy herself too.
Her foster father would say that no human could live alone.
He’d say that people always helped each other, rescued one another, and somehow made do. So he taught her to be nice to strangers. Hazuki thought that sounded correct. It was always other people doing the things she needed in life. Hazuki could only exist in that setup. She would also have to one day take on a caregiver role. She knew that without a doubt. She accepted that way of thinking without consequence.
But.
At the end of the day, was it that a person is always alone, or unable to live alone?
These statements were diametrically opposed. Hazuki knew that. She accepted them without contradiction.
Usually this didn’t bother her. It was not a nuisance. But thinking about it for any amount of time made it all confusing. Whatever was correct, whatever was incorrect, she felt like a failure in life for not picking a single sentiment. Then she was unsure several times.
There was no way she should know.
“Forgive them,” Fuwa had said.
The counselor.
The counselor had no way of knowing how kids like them thought.
“You don’t know yourself, do you? It’s pointless to try to know. Even I don’t know. So just forgive them.”
Forgive them.
That was right.
That was what Fuwa had said.
People can’t live alone, can’t survive alone, that’s true. But everybody’s alone in the end. That’s true too. You’re not wrong about either. But I don’t think you need to go out of your way to be strong. I say those guys who tell you to be number one or give it your all, or not to lose…can all scram.
It’s because humans kill themselves over ratings and whether they’ve won or lost at something that they’ve become useless. Those things shouldn’t matter…
What’s wrong with me.
What.
What’s wrong?
That was what Hazuki had said. She remembered everything Fuwa had said clearly now.
It made her slightly happier.
She had thought counseling was just a sham, but it really worked.
“I bet you’re hungry,” Ayumi said.
“I’m thirsty,” Hazuki said. Ayumi handed her a water pack.
“Haven’t you eaten anything, Makino?”
“I ate, but didn’t finish.”
It was true. Before getting the message from her father she had had some soup.
Her throat felt like it was being painted over. She choked up a bit.
“You should eat.”
Ayumi brought some junk food over to Hazuki. “You’ll get weak unless you eat. You won’t have to be attacked if you die of illness.”
This was true. She did as Ayumi suggested and put the synthetic food in her mouth, chewed deliberately, then swallowed. She wasn’t hungry to begin with, but the food felt like it was sticking to her.
She looked at the food in her hand. There were bite marks where she chewed. Man-made meat made to look like dead animal flesh. It said on the packaging that this was what the real thing tasted and felt like, but Hazuki didn’t know the real thing. Of course she also didn’t know what it was made of. This unknown material was going to turn into her own blood, her own flesh.
I’m made of things I know nothing about, Hazuki thought.
“After you eat you should get some sleep. Sitting won’t help you relieve fatigue.”
“But…”
“You shouldn’t go home yet. I don’t think you’ll get killed, but they’ll ask you too many questions. And it’s possible they won’t believe a thing you say. They already have a script.”
“You mean even if I tell them the truth, they won’t believe it?”
“Probably not.”
“But they suspect Rey Mao.”
“Not suspect. They’re positive it’s her. No one looks more like a criminal right now than her.”
“That’s wrong. The killer is that big man. The guy with the head art and—”
“Makino.”
Ayumi put her hand out. Hazuki grasped it.
“Listen. The more you say Rey Mao isn’t the killer, the greater the disadvantage you put her at.”
Hazuki stood up and sat on the chair.
“Why?”
“Why would an undocumented minor rescue you?”
“Because…”
“No matter how sincere she was in rescuing you, she still attacked an area patrol. There’s already a bulletin out about it. The story’s been written.”
“But it’s a lie.”
“There are a lot of things you have to do to change a finished story. You can’t explain without explaining everything that happened. If you explain everything that happened, they’ll know she was also in a fight with Nakamura and Kawabata. Both of them are dead. She may not be the killer, but the police sure think so.”
“There’s nothing we can do.”
“That’s not true.”
Ayumi opened the door to the bedroom.
“Get your rest first. When you get up, go to your father.”
“What?”
“It’s okay. He’s your father, isn’t he?”
“Foster father,” Hazuki said.
“Blood relation doesn’t matter. At all. At the very least, your father won’t kill you. And we can’t trust the area patrol or police right now.”
Ayumi looked straight at Hazuki. Until recently, they hadn’t ever made eye contact.
Hazuki stood up.
“What are you going to do, Ayumi?”
“I’m okay.”
“No you’re not. Where are you going?”
Ayumi wordlessly walked toward the doves.
“Don’t go.”
“Are you going to worry about me?”
“It’s not that. I’m scared. Please don’t leave,” Hazuki said.
She grasped Ayumi’s arm. She felt like a child.
“Don’t go. I don’t want to be alone.”
“I won’t. It’s okay,” Ayumi said. She led Hazuki to the bedroom and sat her down.
“I’ll be here till you wake up. Just get some sleep.”
“Really?”
“I told you already, it’s not safe here either.”
“So?”
“I have to be on the lookout till morning,” Ayumi said.
As she listened to these last words Hazuki slipped off her shoes and slept in the same bed Yuko Yabe had slept on.
She stretched her arms. Her joints were aching. She stretched as far as she could, and the back of her head started to feel fuzzy.
Ayumi left the room.
There was a round monitor gleaming on the rooftop window. That was…
No. It was just reflecting light.
“Good night.” Hazuki heard a voice, and before the doors closed she had fallen into slumber.
She dreamt that Yuko Yabe was sleeping next to her.
In the room next door were Ayumi, Mio, Rey Mao, and…
Herself.
Who was she, then? wondered Hazuki in her dream.
They’re talking about something she can’t quite hear.
They’re eating. So they’re alive.
Yuko was…
Something rustled. An unfamiliar sound. Had her helper come?
She rubbed her red eyelids and opened weary eyes to see a light coming through the ceiling window.
That’s weird. A window in the ceiling.
Morning.
Hazuki opened her eyes and sat up.
It was bright. Where am I?
Ayumi.
Don’t leave me alone.
Hazuki flew to the door. Her body hurt. It was slow. It wouldn’t move. But to leave her behind? I’m here now. I’m alive. Don’t leave me.
When she opened the door she saw Ayumi standing in front of the cage of doves.
“Ayumi.”
“Did I wake you?”
It wasn’t such a tremendous amount of light, but it blinded her.
“Have you been up this whole time?”
“Well, ‘this whole time’ is just four hours. It’s only four.”
“Four in the morning?”
Ayumi was holding one of the doves.
“What is that dove?”
“It’s the dove Rey Mao took from here. It just came back.”
I promise the dove will be back.
Don’t go anywhere till then.
“Something happened to her.”
Ayumi said nothing and simply extended her arm.
At her fingertips was a small object.
It was a pink neo-ceramic stone.
“That’s…”
“It was tied to this dove’s foot. Yabe’s piercing.”
The pink piercing belonging to pink Yuko.
“Where did…I mean, where was the dove?”
“That…” Ayumi pointed at a cloth on the table. “This was attached to its leg. A piece of natural silk fabric. Rey Mao’s. It had writing.”
“Writing? On the cloth?”
“Writing in blood,” Ayumi said simply.
“Blood? I don’t understand. Blood on the cloth?”
“She didn’t have anything else to write with. No paper. She’s used to bleeding, so she used some of her blood to write with. She wrote Area 119 SVC Memorial Building.”
“What was this piercing doing there?”
“Rey Mao…she went after the guys who attacked you. This is where it led her.”
“I still don’t understand.”
It was the piercing Yuko’d been wearing in her ear.
It’d gotten stuck on Ayumi’s bag.
It’d fallen in Mio’s house.
Because of this piercing, because they’d found this small pink stone…
“This is probably where Yuko was murdered,” Ayumi said.
Murdered…
Now, Hazuki finally understood. Everything.
“Ayumi…you don’t think…”
Ayumi released the dove inside the cage. It flapped its wings and flew to the edge of the window.
“I guess there’s no convincing you to go back to sleep now. You should go downstairs and shower or something. When you’re ready, I’ll be leaving here. You go to your father’s. It’d be best if you contacted him from the main terminal downstairs.”
“If I do that they’ll know I sent it from here.”
That would cause a nuisance.
“Don’t worry about me anymore. I’m fine.”
Ayumi faced the door. Hazuki stepped in front of her.
“No you’re not. What do you think you’re going to do?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“It is. Ayumi, are you going to that address?”
“I am,” Ayumi said.
“Why?”
“You saying I shouldn’t go?”
“Why are you going?” Hazuki asked. “It’s just dangerous. You said you hate dealing with people. That it’s not for kids. You said if it’s none of your business, not to interfere.”
Ayumi looked up at Hazuki with sad eyes.
“I have a responsibility to undertake.”
“Responsibility?”
“Because it’s wrong.” Ayumi hesitated. “To kill people.”
“But you’re not a superhero do-gooder, remember?”
“Right. I am no superhero. But I’m not going to let Rey Mao continue to be put in these screwed-up situations. She didn’t do anything wrong. Now hurry up and shower so I can leave.” Ayumi took out her ID card and handed it to Hazuki.
“If we go in there together the main terminal will identify two people, but if you go in with my card the sensor won’t know who it is. I didn’t lock it and there’s no security PIN code. Just use the card and leave it by the door or something.”
“No!” Hazuki stood up and blocked the entrance.
“Move, Makino.”
“N-no. I don’t like being alone.”
“Like I said, contact your dad from the terminal downstairs.”
“I don’t want to!” Hazuki was throwing a tantrum. “What if I can’t get ahold of my dad? And if I did, I don’t know if he’ll be able to come home. He’s always traveling. It’ll take time for us to meet. And by then my dad’s sure to contact the police. He won’t think that the police or area patrol are untrustworthy, that they might be killers. He’s not a child. He couldn’t possibly believe something that fantastic. He’ll just laugh at everything I say.”
Ayumi looked at Hazuki, amazed.
She was probably surprised. Hazuki surprised even herself. Hazuki had never yelled at anyone before. Never stood up for anything. She wasn’t going to let up now.
If I don’t do this, Ayumi will leave. And then she will die.
“Anyway, go shower. You’re dirty.”
“Stay here. Till I come back. Promise me you’ll stay, or I—”
“I get it,” Ayumi said. Hazuki looked into her eyes. She was trying to stare out the truth.
She wasn’t lying.
Hazuki didn’t have any reason to believe it, but she did. But she didn’t really know. No, it wasn’t just that Hazuki didn’t know, but she had to believe Ayumi wouldn’t leave her behind.
“I’ll be quick. Just wait.”
Hazuki hurriedly put on her shoes and ran out to the rooftop.
It was white, red, bright.
There were clouds. It was bright. Shining.
It was enormous.
The sky was so big her eyes spun and threw her off a little. She went past the side of the house and through the foyer. She ran the card, opened the door, and went into the unfamiliar house. She wanted to take a shower, this was true, but she became anxious.
She scanned the room.
For now she would pass the monitor and go to the bathroom.
She looked at the monitor on her way back.
A turtle icon.
There was a message from Mio when she clicked on the icon, just as Ayumi had said.
I have to tell her.
I have to tell Mio, at all costs.
YABE’S PIERCING FOUND AT 119--SVC MEMORIAL BUILDING RECORDING CENTER. CAT FOUND IT.
--HAZUKI
Just as she depressed the last key the window closed.
Dad. To think I was going to contact you.
But maybe I should.
She hesitated a moment.
Ayumi had said she wouldn’t mind, but Hazuki knew a message sent from this terminal would cause Ayumi problems later. But she knew they couldn’t do anything alone. Honestly, calling her foster father in might help. At the very least, to protect Ayumi.
She went into communication mode on the monitor. And just as she did…
“What’s happening?”
Access denied? No.
The screen looked funny. Hazuki immediately quit the communication program.
This is not right. Is it broken?
Oh no.
Hazuki cut the electricity and force-quit the monitor.
Shit.
Hazuki flew off the chair and out through the foyer, grabbing her shoes and running out the door, leaving it open as she ran to the back of the house.
“Ayumi! Ayumi!”
She hurried up the spiral staircase. The way it wound up she felt like she was climbing to heaven. The sound of her kicking up the stairs was loud, and then there was Ayumi in front of her. Practically running into her, Hazuki came to a dead stop.
“What’s wrong?” Ayumi asked. She was holding a backpack and had a waist pack snapped around her hips.
She was even wearing boots.
“It’s not working. The communication line.”
“Locked?”
“Probably.”
“You can’t gain access?”
“It looks like I can, but when I tried, suddenly…”
“I see. Let’s go.”
“Together?”
“Yes, together. You’ll be safer that way.”
Ayumi stood at the topmost step of the staircase and looked straight out as far as she could. In the direction she was staring the first time Hazuki came here.
“We’re going to take that traffic route.”
“What? You mean the overhead speedway?”
Where Yuko was attacked. The road above it.
“Are we even allowed to walk on that?”
“It’s for freight drivers only, but there’s a tunnel that runs underneath the entire length of it, and it connects to the commercial zone of the next section at one point. No one’s allowed on it from six in the morning to six at night. It’s the fastest way to 119. We’d get there by evening.” Ayumi peered at Hazuki.
“Are you going to be okay?”
“I can walk it.”
“Let’s go.”
I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die crying, in a dark lonely place.
I don’t want to die anymore.
“Another kid’s been kidnapped. Ms. Fuwa might be arrested too. I don’t know if Cat or Mio are still alive. You and I are in danger too. You still want to go?”
“I do,” Hazuki answered. Sitting here and doing nothing would be at least as dangerous. She knew if she stayed there and started crying, with her arms wrapped around her knees, she would feel like dying again.
“All right then. Grab that water. Let’s go, quickly. They’re probably already on their way here.”
Ayumi turned back once. One hundred thousand lux of sunlight rose from the horizon.
There was no hope there.