I think I'm in love with you.
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Is that strange? I don't even know my own feelings. I know I softened the sentiment with a dumb phrase like, "I think,"
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but that's the truth of it.
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Until just a while ago, I was like everyone else, and totally misunderstood you. You iust seemed to always be angry about something, so it was hard to ever get near you. But..."
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"........."
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This letter was resting in his shoe locker when he left school.
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When he opened the letter, a whiff of perfiime emerged. The paper was soaked in it. He started reading the letter with no reaction at all, and soon he realized it was a love letter.
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"But recently, I started watching you, and I realized that you were only angry because the true nature of your feelings was not being understood.
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Am I right? I'm sure lam. I understood...because I feel the same way.
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I Know I might be making this all up, buf I feel like you're the only one who can understand my feelings. I hate to trouble you, but will you meet me? Just this once?
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Please give me a chance..."
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The letter continued, giving a date, time and place to meet...
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but no name.
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"........." Shinjirou remained expressionless, just standing there holding the letter. He didn’t know what to do, so he remained motionless.
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Eventually, he moved stiffly over to a nearby phone booth.
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Automatically, he dialed the number implanted in his brain.
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The call was answered the moment it connected.
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“State your name,” the high-pitched voice on the other end of the line said.
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“D1229085. Urgent communication for Spooky E,” Shinjirou said, in a flat, mechanical tone.
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“What, something happened?”
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"Emergence of Emotional Circuit Response Case F. Disturbance level A"
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The man on the other end of the line clicked his tongue in irritation. “Report details.”
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Shinjirou did so mechanically.
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When he finished, the voice said, “Hmm. So this girl was drawn to a loner like you? Go for it, take her invitation. I’ll permit it.”
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“Understood. Permission received.”
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“Where did she want to meet?”
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Shinjirou told him, and Spooky E made a pleased chuckle.
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“Rather a lonely place for a romantic tryst, mm? Bet you anything that girl wants you to do her. Hee hee hee hee.”
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"........."
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“Okay, that place might do just fine, but if it looks like there are other people around, try and lure her out to some place deserted.
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I’ll ‘condition’ her.”
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"........."
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“Do you understand?”
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“I understand.”
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“Okay, when you hang up the phone you will return to normal mode in twelve seconds. You will forget about the letter until it is time for the meeting.”
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“I understand. I will hang up.”
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He hung up, put the letter in his bag, stood for a few seconds absently, and when he hit the twelve second mark, snapped out of it, and left the school, heading for his cram school, same as he always did.
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He sat through classes like always, and during the short lull between classes, he found a spot on a bench in the rest area and ate a hamburger.
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Around him were several children his age, and a group of high school kids studying for college.
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Right next to Shinjirou, one such girl said, “Oh god, what is this? Help me, Suemaaa!”
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“Touka! At this stage of the game, you have to know this!”
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“I know, but...”
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The two girls were studying together. Their uniforms were obviously from Shinyo Academy, which is where he was planning to go to high school, but he paid them no attention.
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"........." While he ate, he flipped through his vocabulary book.
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But his hand stopped for a moment.
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His gaze was drawn to a painting hung on the wall opposite him.
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It was a painting of a great crowd of people sitting in a wasteland, holding hands. There were several black goats around them, eating the rose bushes that grew in the wilderness.
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He couldn’t take his eyes off it.
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Eventually the bell rang, and everyone got up and went back to their classrooms, but Shinjirou just sat there, motionless.
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Left alone, as if frozen to his seat.
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"............"
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Ever since Spooky E had “conditioned” him, Shinjirou had stopped thinking on his own. He simply followed the implanted instructions and the expectations of those around him, dutifully.
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So why was he unable to respond to this painting, like he had been nailed to the floor?
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"............" He stared up at the painting.
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From behind him, a voice said, “What you are experiencing is what we call ‘emotion.”’
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Shinjirou turned around. Behind him stood a young man in white clothes.
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“Uh...” He could swear he’d seen the guy somewhere before, but he couldn’t remember where. Yet he had seen him. Where was it. . .?
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The man seemed to think they hadn’t spoken before. At the previous meeting, the man had been unable to see Shinjirou, so he didn’t recognize him. Neither one of them knew that they were meeting for the second time.
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“Your heart was moved by something in that painting. But you’ve had no such experience in your life before, so you had no sample data inside to tell you how to react,” the man in white said quietly, walking towards Shinjirou.
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"............" Shinjirou said nothing. He was unable to react to this man as well.
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“You’re Anou Shinjirou, right? From the public school last minute preparation course?” The man in white sat down next to Shinjirou.
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“Yes, I am.”
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“My name is Asukai Jin. I’m in charge of the national art school preparation course here. I’ve had my eye on you, Anou-kun.” He smiled gently.
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“Why?” Shinjirou asked.
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The man raised one eyebrow, as if joking. “You probably don’t know.”
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“Know what?”
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“That you have absolutely no hope,” he said, calmly, but with a trace of sadness.
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“What does that mean. . .?” Shinjirou asked.
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But the man didn’t answer. He stood up, slowly turned his back, and whispered, “The man who played with your heart worked for the Towa Organization, correct?”
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This word was implanted deep inside Shinjirou. The moment he heard it, his body moved automatically.
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His lungs screamed at the sudden motion, but he ignored them, flinging his body towards the man.
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Even though his back was turned, the man stepped lightly to one side, easily dodging Shinjirou’s lunge.
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Shinjirou’s body was carried onwards, flying into the tables and chairs opposite.
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There was a huge crashing sound.
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Bleeding from several places, Shinjirou sprang to his feet again. There was no trace of emotion on his face.
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His head turned, looking for the man.
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The man did not run, but instead, he stood his ground.
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“Hmph. . .” A cruel smile appeared on his lips.
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Shinjirou-or rather the body being controlled by implanted instructions- launched himself towards the man again.
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This time, he grabbed the man. He pushed him over, and tried to put one arm around his neck to strangle him.
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But before he could, the man’s hand reached out to Shinjirou’s chest.
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"............!"
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A moment later, Shinjirou’s body suddenly bent over of its own accord, and flung itself backwards.
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There was another tremendous crash.
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“Pathetic...” the man said, unmoved. He stood up, and brushed the dust off his clothes.
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He came over to where Shinjirou lay unable to move, and got down on his knees. He peered into the boy’s face.
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“What was that sound?”
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“Asukai-san, what happened?”
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Several other faculty members had come running.
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“He fell over. Looks like anemia of the brain...” Asukai replied, helping Anou Shinjirou up, and over to a comfortable sofa, where he laid him down flat.
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“Is he okay? Should I call an ambulance?”
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“Better ask the manager. If he lies down for a minute. . .he should be okay, I think...” Asukai answered, well aware that an ambulance pulling up to the cram school was hardly a desirable event.
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“W-wait right there, I’ll go ask,” and the other teachers ran off.
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Once again the lobby fell silent, if only for a short while.
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Asukai J in slowly rubbed Anou Shinjirou’s chest.
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“I’ve no idea of the true nature of your suffering, Anou-kun. But I promise you, your wordless pain will be buried when the snow falls in April. . .when the whiteness falls on all mankind,” he whispered kindly, yet firmly.
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Behind him, floating in the air, a vision of a girl wavered.
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“Shin-Chan, how do you feel?”
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Umm. . .wh-where. . .?”
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“Cram school. You. . .you passed out,” his mother said.
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He looked around him. Everything felt strange, like his eyes wouldn’t quite focus.
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“Cram school...” he got to his feet unsteadily. He stood there, looking puzzled.
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“Should we go see a doctor?” his mother asked.
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But he didn’t appear to be seriously injured, so they simply: headed straight home. They went for a check up the next day, but the doctors found nothing amiss. For safe measure, they gave him a mild tranquilizer, and then just sent him home. The diagnosis was simply stress. He had been studying far too much.
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“Thank goodness.”
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“Yeah...”
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“The test is pretty close, but you don’t need to work too hard.