Masamichi had always messed things up when he jumped rope; the other kids had him just stand at the end and hold it. Because it had been tough for Masamichi to hear the disappointed groans from his classmates when he mistimed his jump, he eventually started holding the rope without the others telling him to do so. He and his homeroom teacher were always the ones who held the rope. Because of their difference in size and Masamichi’s lack of physical strength, his shoulder always hurt when they played the game.
Yet the homeroom teacher would call to him from the other end, saying, “Isn’t this fun?!” with a desperate, fake smile. That memory made Masamichi sigh heavily.
It’s the same as that time. I didn’t know when I should jump in, and when I did, I would always ruin it and annoy everyone. It hurt, and it was hard to keep swinging that rope, but I forced myself to smile because all the other kids were enjoying themselves. I haven’t changed at all.
But he had even fumbled the rope spinning many times. He recalled how the teacher would say to him, “Masamichi. What is it that you can do?” and stopped on the side of the road.
Sad memories from the past blended with the two shocking events of that day, and his thoughts were filled with a murky darkness.
I can’t do anything right. That isn’t all. I always cause trouble for others. No one needs me. No, that isn’t right. Everyone would probably be better off if I disappeared.
It wasn’t the first time that Masamichi had felt such despair.
Since childhood, he had nurtured a beast of shadows in his heart. He fed it every time he failed at something or upset someone, and the creature was now showing its fangs.
“It’s pointless to keep walking.”
Farther up the street was his lonely apartment, where no one awaited him.
And unless he could find a new job, he would lose even that.
“I have no one, and I have nothing.”
As he muttered to himself, he felt drained of all energy.
Perhaps it was because of the freely flowing tears that clouded his vision.
When Masamichi came to his senses, a dazzling white light blinded him, and a loud car horn vibrated violently in his eardrums.
“Huh…?!”
It was too late when he realized the light was coming from a car speeding down the narrow road.
Masamichi stood there, stunned.
The car approached at top speed, the driver neglecting to step on the brakes, and rammed into him.
Before he could scream from the intense pain in his legs, he was hit hard in the chest and choked.
Thud. Rip. Squish.
Heavy, dull sounds the likes of which he had never heard before rang out as Masamichi felt his body floating in the air like pieces of dust.
It’s often said that one’s life flashes before their eyes when they die.
But Masamichi didn’t receive that luxury.
He was smashed to the ground with tremendous force, and he finally realized he had been hit by a car.
His collarbone bent and made an unpleasant sound.
“Ugh…!”
The breathlessness was worse than the pain, and he wanted to curl up, but no part of his body would move the way he wanted it to.
“Shit!”
That had to be the driver who’d hit him. They must have realized what had happened and returned to the scene.
He heard a car door opening, then voices and footsteps. But someone said, “Let’s get out of here,” and they got back in the car without checking on Masamichi. They revved the engine, and the car roared away.
So this…is what it’s like to be hit by a car.
Feeling the cold and hard asphalt against his cheek, Masamichi lay on the ground like an abandoned piece of garbage.
He wanted to move but couldn’t. Breathing roughly, he struggled to turn his neck and saw his right arm, barely in sight, bent awkwardly in an impossible angle.
His left arm and both legs were probably in a similar state.
No wonder I can’t move anything. Everything’s unbelievably broken.
Amazed and even a little mellow, Masamichi exhaled weakly.
He wanted to take a deep breath but couldn’t inhale. It was hard to breathe, and fresh tears welled in his eyes.
The little air he could inhale smelled and tasted like blood.
Strangely enough, he now felt very little pain. Rather, there was an odd sensation as if most of his body had vanished.
An itchy numbness spread throughout his body, and sleepiness crept in.
He was convinced that he was dying.
The driver didn’t even try to help me. I guess my life isn’t worth anything after all.
Masamichi felt no anger toward the hit-and-run driver. His heart was only filled with quiet loneliness and resignation.
What a way to die—at the end of the worst day of my life. But it doesn’t matter now. I don’t care about anything anymore.
His vision gradually blurred, and his eyelids became heavier.
I didn’t know it was so easy to die.
Surprised at how simply everything was about to end for him, Masamichi slowly closed his eyes and helplessly waited for his life to fade away.
But.
Click, click, click…
From somewhere in the distance came the sound of footsteps.
It seemed to be one person walking quickly at a steady pace, like a metronome.
It must have been an adult.
Is someone here…to help me?
It was too late to save him.
But he would appreciate it if the person at least contacted the police.
What if he was left in this state until morning, and a child were to find him? They would be traumatized for life, and that was the one thing Masamichi wanted to avoid.
He was worrying about others, even in a state like this. Masamichi closed his eyes and listened to the footsteps walking straight toward him.
Then the footsteps stopped near his head.
He could sense someone breathing above.
Perhaps the person was too stunned by his state to even scream.
As Masamichi absentmindedly wondered about the silence, he suddenly heard a man’s voice. It was low, clear, and pleasant.
“The smell of blood lured me here, but well, well. This is quite a sight.”
Never mind screaming—Masamichi heard laughter and even amusement in the voice.
It looks like a strange person has come at a peculiar time.
There he was, all set to die a peaceful death, and then this guy had come along.
Masamichi was curious about the man and didn’t want to pass away without some answers.
He forced open his heavy eyelids and tried to get a glimpse of the man.
The first thing he saw was shoes, which glowed faintly in the darkness.
The toes of the man’s shiny, polished, and expensive-looking loafers were close enough to kick Masamichi in the face if he took another step.
He wondered what a person wearing such fine shoes looked like.
Masamichi was so intrigued that he tried desperately to encourage his motionless body to move so he could turn over onto his back.
Perhaps noticing the movement, the man laughed.
“Oh, you’re still alive. You’re a stubborn one despite that frail-looking body.”
Hey, isn’t that a terrible thing to say?
He couldn’t believe the man would see him in his current state and say, “Oh, you’re still alive,” instead of “Are you okay?” or “Should I call an ambulance?”
Oblivious to Masamichi’s shock, the man crouched down.
Despite his inability to move, Masamichi could finally see his face.
Are you kidding?
Despite his mortal wounds, Masamichi couldn’t help but be amazed.
The man was young and had a remarkably well-defined face.
The line from his sharp cheekbones to his jaw was smooth, and his forehead was just the right width.
Beneath the somewhat impudent curve of his eyebrows were a pair of slender, brightly lit eyes, a high bridged nose, and pale lips, which smiled coolly.
He had perfect looks. Masamichi wouldn’t be surprised if he was a model or an actor. He was so perfect that it was hard to believe he was human.
Maybe an angel has come to take me away. But wait, an angel wouldn’t say terrible things like that. Maybe he’s the devil…
One side of the man’s mouth curved up, as if he could read Masamichi’s mind.
“Hey, I’m talking to you. Stop staring and answer me.”
The man didn’t seem at all concerned about the terrible state of Masamichi’s body.
What is with this guy?
Masamichi had been about to die peacefully—or rather, was about to die peacefully, and now this man had come along and grabbed his attention.
But it was hard for him to speak when he could barely breathe.
“…Who…are…you?” Masamichi managed to whisper hoarsely.
Oddly enough, the man seemed to have heard his faint question and suddenly glared at him.
“You have some nerve, attempting to learn about me when you’re a mere mortal on the verge of death. Do you realize the state you’re in?”
The man stretched out his arm as he spoke, picked something up, and dangled it in front of Masamichi’s nose.
Unable to scream, Masamichi only hissed softly.
The man was casually dangling Masamichi’s leg. It looked like part of a mannequin, but surely enough, it was wearing one of Masamichi’s basketball shoes. From the shape of the shoe, it was his right leg.
His right leg, which had supported Masamichi’s body until a moment ago, was cruelly severed at the calf, exposing broken bones and torn muscles through the fresh wound.
“You’ve got…to be kidding.”
“I imagine you’ve been run over by a car or something. This leg was torn off and rolling on the ground. Incidentally, the other limbs are also broken and in terrible shape. Your collarbone is also shattered, and your chest is moving strangely. And I doubt that any of your ribs are intact.”
While speaking calmly and somewhat happily, the man put his nose close to the wound on Masamichi’s leg. He smelled it and nodded in satisfaction.
“Not bad. This is a good opportunity. Let’s give it a try.”
Give what a try?
He was unable to see his dire condition, and Masamichi was preoccupied with the behavior of the man in front of him anyway.
Then the man did something Masamichi never expected. Without hesitation, he licked the blood leaking from the torn leg with the tip of his tongue.
The man tasted the blood and simply said, “Oh,” despite Masamichi’s astonishment. “Interesting. The curse is not activated with the flesh and blood of a living person if it has been separated from the body. That’s good to know.”
What on earth…? What is this man talking about?