“Satisfied?”
“…”
“You’re not, are you? Why would you be? That’s not nearly enough to cheer you up. You’ve hated me and hated me and hated me, so there’s no way you’re satisfied yet. Because if it’s for Mikoko, morals, laws, and common sense don’t mean a thing.”
“Uh…rrr.”
Muimi was flustered.
For the first time, consternation blended into her emotions.
I didn’t care about this either.
“I guess the middle finger is next?”
Saying this, I clutched it.
It was as if I were a doll.
A doll had no nerves.
A doll had no heart.
So it could just snap its own bones.
Crack.
“Ring finger next?”
I bent my ring finger the wrong way.
Pop.
“And finally, the pinky?”
I moved my pinky in an impossible direction.
Grik.
“Well, my right hand’s a complete wreck. I won’t be able to defend myself very well now.”
“Ah… ah… ah.”
The blood was draining from her face. This wasn’t just fear, but terror. A fundamental awe and fear for something beyond one’s comprehension. It was a fatal wound of an emotion that far outstripped anger.
“Shall we continue to the left hand?”
I stood the four fingers on my left hand on the floor.
From there, I threw all of my body’s weight onto my left arm.
Crack crack crack crack.
A quartet of pleasant light notes.
“Why don’t we twist ’em around too?”
Crunch. Crunch crunch crunch.
“Now let’s see if I can still applaud─”
“Wh-What the hell are you doing?!” screamed Muimi, caught up in the moment. She tossed the knife aside and grabbed my wrist. “Y-You’re crazy! What is this?! What are you doing?!”
“I’m saving you the trouble. It’s like you did it. Or, by your logic, like Mikoko did it. Right?”
I held up my eight hideously gnarled fingers before Muimi’s eyes. The grotesque sight must have been unbearable even if you were nuts because she reflexively looked away.
“D-Doesn’t that hurt?!”
“Who knows,” I replied coolly. “No big deal. Not to me, anyway. No matter how much I get tortured or beaten, I don’t feel a thing. You could even kill me if you wanted. Do whatever. But to me, death would be nothing more than a release.”
“What are─”
“I’m so damn sick of everything. Of living, of the people around me, the people not around me, the various intentions that make up this world and all the ones that don’t, of you, of Mikoko, and of course of myself. It’s all just a damned headache. I’m the one who’s disgusted here. Living only brings pain. I see no value in this place. Frankly, I don’t give a rat’s ass if the world gets wiped out tomorrow or if I’m wiped out today. In fact, I’d be glad. So killing me would be pointless. I wouldn’t have minded if you killed me the other night, either.”
“…!”
“Still, I’m sure killing me will put your mind at ease. But it won’t amount to revenge or justice or loyalty to a friend. It’s just you venting. Nothing more than a distraction from the truth. You’ll cheer up, but that’s all. Causing me pain will clear away your jealousy, making me suffer will help you forget your remorse, and killing me will cleanse your guilt, but that’s all you’ll be doing.”
“You’re wrong!” Muimi clutched her head and shook it like a madwoman. “You’re wrong, you’re wrong, you’re wrong! Don’t turn this around! You’re so full of shit! I did everything for Mikoko─”
“Now, go ahead and kill me. Kill me with your own hands. The world will just go on.”
Just for yourself.
Without saying it’s for anyone else.
Without giving excuses or pleading your case.
Kill me of your own volition.
Commit your profitless crime.
“Urrrr…raaahhhhh!”
She picked up the knife. With a spiteful, demonic glare, biting down on her lip as if choking back a curse, she grabbed me by the neck with all her might. With her other hand, she dug the edge of the blade one layer of skin deep into my neck, right along that carotid artery.
And she hesitated and paused and held and wavered.
“Urrrrrrrrrrrr!”
And she stayed that way.
“……”
I closed my eyes and left it up to time.
But I soon got tired of this as well.
“I wonder,” I said, casually brushing her hand aside and distancing myself from the knife.
Standing up, for a while I watched Muimi huddling on the floor and groaning, then gave my back a good stretch.
“When did people stop being able to do things just for themselves, Muimi?”
It was always out of some sense of duty or of justice.
Out of some feeling of fellowship or of friendship.
“Don’t you think it’s all just nonsense?”
Muimi gave no reply. I wasn’t sure if I should have been asking the question in the first place. I who, let alone for myself, hadn’t done a thing even for others’ sake. I who had never done anything for anyone’s sake.
“What am I supposed to do?” Muimi asked as though she were seeking my help. “What could I possibly do for Mikoko? What do I need to do for her? What are you trying to say I should do?”
Don’t ask me that.
That just leads to a dead end.
Thinking you can do something for others is nothing more than a happy delusion. But once you realize it’s only a delusion, as you have now, there’s no place left to go. Just like Tomoe and I, you’ve got no place left to go. What’s ahead of you now isn’t even despair, but a pitch-black void of absolute nothingness.
It’s a dead end.
But I had no intention of telling her things we both already knew. Even if she didn’t know, I wasn’t about to go out of my way to tell her.
“To be honest,” I said, turning my back to her, “I came here hoping you’d kill me. I could have you do that. You wanted to kill me and I wanted to be killed. Seemed like a match made in heaven. So I thought I’d come get it over with already. But I’ve changed my mind. I won’t let myself be killed by someone like you.”
“Then…” uttered Muimi, staring at the floor.
I took my eyes off of her and headed for the entrance.
As if a stressed-out strand of yarn had torn to shreds, with a tragic air, Muimi choked out a sentence muddled with tears and sobs.
“Then kill me now.”
“Nah. Die on your own,” I replied curtly, and didn’t look back.
I had no desire to turn around.