A parade of incomprehensible words.
Maybe Yuri had gone crazy.
Around this point, my mind surrendered to sleep and grew muddled. Yuri and Shirayuki and Maki wearing an old-style kimono and Tohko and Uotani and the pond at night and a red ball and swirling fireflies mixed together in a jumble in my head, and I started losing control.
Yuri, hugging a doll and singing a lullaby, anxious that Akira Hagiwara might go away, was Uotani. Shirayuki ordering the temple bell to be toppled was Maki. Yuri slashing open her own chest with a sickle was Tohko.
Why did you give me a dream?
Even every dream must be woken from?
In the end, love is a flower reflected in a mirror. The moon floating on the water.
I know Akira will come back.
No, Akira is gone.
A torrent of vividly colored consciousness. My body sank heavily into it, as if it were being sucked in.
And that moment—
Yuri’s words, rushing into my ears, became suddenly calm.
“Something wonderful happened. I won’t ever grieve again. I’m the happiest person in the world.”
Calm, yet somehow desolate and sad—
That was the tone in which Tohko read the next part of the diary.
“I made a promise with Akira.
“An important promise.
“I nodded, ‘all right.’
“When I asked if I could grow lemon trees and myrtle, he laughed at me. Akira’s dear laugh that I’ll never forget for the rest of my life.
“After that, I retreated to my room and painted a picture with watercolors.
“A solid wall of books. Right in the middle of it, there’s me, smiling happily, radiant, more contented than anyone.
“I made a promise to myself, too.
“This one is different from the others. It’s a promise that will never be broken.
“Since I was able to meet Akira, I know that I’ll be smiling for the rest of my life.”
“That’s the end…,” Tohko’s whisper trailed off.
When I barely lifted my eyelids, there was the same sad face I’d seen that dawn and the red dianthus blossom fluttered down from the diary’s last page.
With her head bowed so sadly, my chest tightened and I felt uneasy.
Argh, I wish all of this were a dream and that when I wake up, I’ll be in my own bed and my mother will be coming to tell me that breakfast is ready.
Her promise was pure and beautiful, strong and energetic, and also demandingly cruel.
With an expression that showed she was pushing her sadness into hiding, she looked unswervingly at me and quietly whispered, “Maybe I’m wrong.”
“Even I can’t explain it very well.
“But I have to do it.
“It’s because I’m my father’s daughter.”
The mysterious blood that had continued pumping from the distant days of old and which flowed inside her—the bond linking and entangling people with each other, that was the beginning of everything, and it brought her and me together and bound us tightly and now it has pulled us far apart.
But it was fun. I was happy; I’m glad I was able to meet her.
I don’t regret for a second that we were able to be this close.
I told her that with a look that was almost heart-wrenchingly gentle, and no matter how I called to her among the soft white petals, in the end she never looked back.
I thought of her again and again, to the point that I was unconsciously mimicking her habits, and retraced our story from our meeting to our parting.
I wonder how Undine is doing.
Afterward, I too left the little room of books where we had spent our time together.
It wasn’t my mother’s voice that woke me from my slumber; it was a motorcycle engine and Baron’s barking.
Early morning. The sky was still pale at this hour, and Tohko was breathing evenly in her sleep beside me with her back turned toward me.
The night before she had read Yuri’s diary to me at my pillow. I had a hazy memory of Tohko murmuring, “That’s the end.” But apparently that’s when I’d fallen asleep.
Outside, Baron was barking noisily. I got out of bed and pulled back the curtain over the window that looked out over the garden.
A jolt went through me instantly.
A big motorcycle was parked outside the gate.
Beside it, a couple was mashed together in each other’s arms, kissing.
Baron was pushing his nose through the bars and berating them—bow-bow-bow—but they didn’t budge; their faces bent, they exchanged passionate, hungry kisses.
The woman had swathed her remarkable figure, which was more than competition for Maki’s, in a biker suit. Her dyed blond hair cascaded to her shoulders, and even at a distance I could tell she was pretty.
The man was in jeans and a jacket, tall and broad shouldered, and he, too, was a pretty good-looking guy—hold on, I knew him.
That was Ryuto! The son of the family Tohko was boarding with who was younger than me. Ryuto was a first-year in high school, even though he looked as if he was in college.
What was Ryuto doing here first thing in the morning, having a make-out session in front of the gates to Maki’s vacation house?!
“…Mm, Konoha, you’re awake?”
There was a limp voice behind me, and I jumped into the air.
Tohko sat up, her bangs bent in odd directions from her sleep, and rubbed her eyes groggily.
“G’morning, Konoha.”
“G-good morning.”
Uh-oh. I couldn’t let Tohko see the scene in progress outside the window.
“Why are you closing the curtains?”
“The sun’s too bright. It’s hurting my eyes.”
“It doesn’t look like the sun’s that far up to me.”
Tohko climbed out of bed. I stole a glance through the gap in the curtains and saw the love scene was still going on. You take forever, Ryuto! Can’t you wrap it up?
“Hey, hey, you can’t come over here, Tohko.”
“Hmph. Why not?”