site 65: Asuna Kizaki

A big temple right near Inokashira Park, surrounded by white stone walls, Daiseiji Temple was built as a shrine to the god Yakushi Nyorai, and it was a very solemn place.

The police were going in and out of it, looking busy. Outside the gate, the media had set up camp. The main shrine had a “No Admittance” sign on the door. Cold white smoke was pouring out from within. It was probably dry ice, used to delay the decay of the bodies.

The building held the bodies of over two hundred people dragged up from the bottom of Inokashira Lake. Of course, Moritsuka was in here, too.

I’d ridden over from the dorm on my bike, but I wasn’t sure if it was okay to go inside, so I was simply standing there. Just then, Shinoyama came out from the building, and our eyes met. He waved at me.

“You came, huh? This way.”

I moved my bike off to the side so it wouldn’t get in the way, then followed him inside.

The floor was covered with a plastic sheet. There were large clumps of dry ice here and there all over the floor, and it was freezing cold despite being spring. The massive temple building was gloomy despite it being daytime, and I shivered from the chill.

There were rows of simply constructed coffins. When I saw that each one of them held a body, I was stunned at the sheer number. There were probably more dead people than living ones here now.

I couldn’t look away from it. No matter which way I turned there were coffins.

I was an FBI agent, whether I looked like it or not, and I’d seen bodies before. Each time I had, I’d done my best to avoid thinking of them as human. Otherwise, I’d get too emotional and wouldn’t be able to do my investigation right.

In all those cases, though, the bodies had been in awful shape, so while it had been shocking, it was easy to tell myself that these were just things, not people. But this time, none of the bodies were badly damaged. They were all in pristine condition. There was far too much left of how they’d looked when they were alive.

Would I be able to control myself when I saw Moritsuka’s body? I got a little scared thinking about it.

“Moritsuka’s this way.” Shinoyama guided me towards the back.

Just like the documents I’d read had said, the 256 corpses were of all different genders and ages. There were adults, and also five-year-old children. It seemed like half were men and half were women.

Suddenly, I heard a woman sobbing in the quiet temple. She was in her thirties, and she was clinging to one of the coffins and crying. Next to her was a boy who looked like he was in elementary school. He was just standing there in shock. They must have been one of the families.

My chest started to tighten.

Shinoyama came to a stop in front of the coffins. “This is Moritsuka,” he said hesitantly, pointing to the coffin in front of him.

It had been a long time since I’d seen Moritsuka’s face, but he hadn’t changed much at all. He looked so peaceful, like at any moment he might open his eyes and say, “Hey, how’ve you been?”

“It’s like he’s asleep, isn’t it?”

Shinoyama didn’t answer, but instead said flatly, “We haven’t finished going over all the victims yet, but Moritsuka definitely died of drowning.”

Drowning...

I’d read about the cause of death in the documents I’d been given, but after coming here, I was starting to wonder more about it.

Many of the corpses here hadn’t swollen up because the temperature in the lake was cold in February and they were found quickly. But their expressions were so peaceful, and there was no sign of the suffering that drowning victims usually experienced.

Were they all drugged and unconscious when it happened? But several of the bodies had been examined, and no trace of drugs had been found...

There was no point in thinking about it. I’d just do what I came here to do.

“Let me see Moritsuka’s things,” I said.

Shinoyama pointed towards a plastic container next to the coffin. There was barely anything inside. Just a few waterlogged trading cards and some receipts. It would be hard to get anything useful out of them.

“Is this all?”

“It’s not just Moritsuka. It’s the same for all of them. Far too few of them are carrying anything that would help ID them.”

“Is that why it’s taking so long to identify them?”

“Yeah,” Shinoyama grunted and nodded.

I dropped to my knees on the cold floor and looked at Moritsuka up close.

Really, his face was so peaceful. There was no sign of the suffering that occurs when water enters your lungs. Was it possible that someone who had drowned himself could look like that?

If he’d died without suffering, then at least that was fortunate, maybe.

“I’m sorry.” I gulped, took off my glove, and put my hand against Moritsuka’s forehead. His skin was cool to the touch. It was so cold I almost cried.

No.

This wasn’t the time to let my emotions take control. If I didn’t stay on top of things, Moritsuka would scold me.

I closed off my feelings, shut my eyes, and focused.

— Begin the performance.

I decided to go back to twenty minutes before his death.

A street, lit up by streetlights.

I knew the place: it was Kichijoji Street. It was late at night, and Moritsuka was walking at a regular rhythm. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry. He went from the road into the park, and even though it was late at night, there were many people there. All of them were walking silently towards the lake.

There was no hesitation at all in anyone’s steps. Their movements were swift and certain. Nobody was stopping, and nobody seemed to be there against their will.

Adults, kids, men, women, they were all acting as if they were out for a walk. But it was the middle of the night. It wasn’t an hour when that many people would go for a walk.

Eventually, they all reached the shrine to Benzaiten that was next to the lake. The adults climbed over the small fence separating it from the lake, and the children went under it.

Nobody spoke. They were all completely silent.

It wasn’t a deep lake. Even a child would only go to his chest if he stood up.

Like they were getting into the bath or swimming in a pool, they went out to the center of the lake and crouched, sinking of their own will into the water.

A line formed. They weren’t going over the fence one by one, but one group would go out and sink, and then the next group would follow.

Moritsuka was no different. He walked out into the middle of the lake like it was the most normal thing in the world and sank down in the water. His body collided with one of the others who had already sunk, and he looked up from the bottom of the lake towards the surface.

You could see the moonlight on the lake’s surface. The waves formed by all the people entering the water made the moonlight seem to waver. But his view was quickly blocked out by the next victim who came after him...

“What is this?”

I forced the memory to come to an end.

I’d been able to replay his memories. I’d heard the sound of him stepping on the dried leaves, the sound of him falling into the water. But I hadn’t heard any voices...

It wasn’t just spoken words. With my psychometry, I could hear the internal voices of the dead. But this time, I’d heard nothing at all. There was no strong desire to end it all, no sense of relief at escaping into death, no reason to die, no emotions driving him toward death...

No fear of death, even. There was nothing at all. Nothing but emptiness.

Moritsuka had died empty.

“Well?” Shinoyama said. I stood up.

This didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense at all.

This had never happened when I was at the FBI. Were my powers fading because I hadn’t used them? Or...

“Th-The others,” I wrapped my arms around my body and pleaded. “Go ask if there are others you’ve already ID’d that I can touch. Please.”

“Okay.” Shinoyama looked a little suspicious, but he went to talk to what appeared to be the man in charge.

I was given permission to touch several more bodies. A teenage girl. A young boy. A middle-aged corporate worker. A punkish-looking young man. A part-timer, a government worker. Their bodies, their possessions, their clothes. I used my powers on them all.

But all the movies I saw were the same as Moritsuka’s. Everything was silent. Their hearts weren’t moving at all.

There was nothing. They’d thrown themselves into the lake of their own will, silently and mechanically.

They had no reason to die at all. My powers hadn’t faded.

Everyone’s mind wavers a bit when faced with death, to a greater or lesser degree. A death chosen deliberately, even a peaceful one, was no exception. But...

It was like the 256 dead victims weren’t even human.

Suddenly, my vision blurred and my knees buckled. I almost collapsed on top of a coffin.

“Are you okay?!” Shinoyama quickly grabbed me, which was the only reason I was able to stay upright.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a little tired.”

“You’ve done enough for today.”

“Yeah...” I brushed my bangs out of my eyes and realized my forehead was soaked with sweat. I’d been pushing myself harder than I’d thought. I’d never used my powers on a dozen bodies in a single day before.

Pain ran through my chest with each beat of my heart. It hurt a little to breathe. It was easy to imagine what would happen if I used my powers any more today.

But I still hadn’t learned anything...

--Bzzz--bzzzztttt---bzzz

I heard an unfamiliar static in the quiet hall.

I looked around. It felt surprisingly close.

There was something large in one of the plastic cases near me that held the deceased’s possessions. I went over to it, trying to control the pain in my chest.

“Hey, Kizaki.”

“Let me check just one more body,” I said, as I took a look at the case.

A keychain with what looked like a house key. A package of Kit-Kats. And...

A machine far larger than a dictionary.

What was it? I didn’t know much about machines, so I couldn’t tell what it did. Whatever it was, though, it was covered in switches.

“What is this?”

“It’s an old radio,” Shinoyama said. I stood up. “You don’t see them around much anymore. It’s the kind they used to sell when I was a kid. If it’s here, it means it fell in the lake with the body. The water would have destroyed it.”

The radio was in a plastic bag. I lifted it up. It was heavy. It probably wasn’t because it was waterlogged; it was just this weight to begin with. The radio itself was inside a case with a shoulder strap so it could be carried easily. A doll from some kind of anime was wrapped around the strap.

It was an old radio, but anything electronic like this was likely to leave good records. Maybe I could learn something from it that would help.

“May I borrow this for just twenty-four hours?”

“Do you need to?”

“I want to take a closer look at it.” But I’d used my psychometry too much today. Ideally, I would use it right now, but my health probably wasn’t going to allow that. But tomorrow...

Shinoyama sighed and nodded. “I’ll come up with something to tell the chief. Bring it back in mint condition.”

“Thank you.” I was surprised that Shinoyama allowed me to do anything that would mean extra work for him. Maybe my psychometry demonstration yesterday had paid off.

That said... I moved my gaze back to the body in the coffin. It had already been ID’d. “Yuta Gamon,” read the nametag on the plastic case next to the body. From the look of the body, he wasn’t that much older or younger than me.

Why was he carrying this radio then? Was he just really into radios or something?

I put my hand into the coffin and touched his cold forehead.

— Begin the performance.

And what I saw was...

Nothing.

...Nothing.

......Nothing.

Nothing at all.

— Performance complete.

“What?!”

What was that? I hadn’t seen a thing! No images. No sound. No voices. Nothing. This had never happened before.

Why? What was this boy?

And then...

“Th-That’s me...”

I heard a voice in front of me. I looked up, and standing there, was...

“Huh?”

A boy who looked just like the one I’d just touched...