031
I did end up taking the day off from school.
And the next day, and the next.
I had no choice.
That's how horribly sore my muscles were after an entire night of running—it was like I had wrecked my entire body.
I had plenty of time to reflect on what came of acting without considering the consequences—but at the same time, I'd gotten to see my senior again thanks to that lack of consideration, so let's call it a win.
“All's well that ends well” are profound words indeed.
That being said, I may not have needed my third day of rest, but, but, I wanted to be back in tip-top shape when I returned to school so I decided to be extra cautious.
I had options, of course.
To put it in Lord Devil terms, I had the Easy, Normal, and Hard Options—Easy would naturally be to take the mysterious mummified object that had been delivered to me and to say, Ewww gross, and
smash it to bits. Then live out the rest of my life in calm, composed contentment.
That would be simplest.
If this were a novel, it wouldn't be a bad ending for my coming-of-age story. The last page could close with the masterful line, And so the girl grew into a woman.
Normal would be, yes—handing over the mysterious mummified object to the junk collector who desired it so much. Then we could make believe we were friends and act out a proper farewell accompanied by a catchy line. Not a bad ending either. Sorry, thanks, farewell. That would wrap up the story nice and neat, and it might leave a surprisingly pleasant aftertaste as well.
But I chose Hard as a matter of course.
There never really was another option.
That's how I live my life.
When I play video games, I always choose the highest difficulty level right off the bat.
Which is why—I chose to draw out a devil using a devil as bait, and as if that wasn't enough, to do my best to exorcise that devil once it graced my presence—as the bonkers way to end this tale.
I doubt very much that it was what the mystery man who sent me the mummified object was hoping I would do—he, that swindler, probably wanted me to pick Easy Mode.
But I wasn't going to be the me he wanted me to be.
Just as I couldn't do what my mother, not that I know what she expected by bequeathing that mummified hand, wanted me to do.
I'm an athlete.
So I know very well the significance of living up to people's expectations—but if, in spite of that knowledge, I stumbled onto the significance of betraying those expectations, I might as well go all the way with it.
If high school is all about making memories—I should at least make satisfying ones.
Even if I'm going to forget them someday.
“…I didn't expect to see you again, Kanbaru.”
After school, Friday.
Although it was after school on a weekday, and not exam week or anything, no one was practicing in the gym—I was the only person there, just like on Monday.
“This is like suddenly remembering a long-forgotten memory just as you're drifting off to sleep.”
While a girl with dyed-brown hair, wearing a tracksuit and holding a crutch, two of her four limbs encased in plaster casts, stood on the court—I couldn't count her as a “person.”
Since she wasn't human anymore.
“I figured I'd find you here, Numachi... Kaiki told you, I assume.
She scowled at this, a rarity for her, and said, “That swindler. He fucking had it all along. And the head, no less, the most important part of all—unbelievable. His policy might be to share only half of what he knows, but he fully intended to deceive me all along. Dammit, was his endgame to snatch all the parts I had collected out from under me? Or was he going to try and turn a profit on the head?”
“More likely the latter, after it reached its peak value—then again, maybe a little bit of both. He could probably maximize his profit by selling an assembled devil to some scholar.”
Something like that.
Either way, I'd found it kind of puzzling that Kaiki would continue his dealings with Numachi for so many years. She may have thought of him as a business associate, but the relationship couldn't have been terribly important to someone like him, who had such an extensive operation—but this explained everything.
Mixing up a ghost in his quest for profit, though? That was just too greedy.
It did make me feel kind of yucky that I was the only person he was kind to, but...yeah.
He'd hoodwink just about anyone if it was on my behalf—so he'd said.
Then just this once, I'd get on board with that ickiness.
I'd exploit every resource at my disposal.
...Nah, that hackneyed phrase just isn't for me. After all, if I actually felt that way, it would have been most expedient to rely on my dear senior.
“So Kanbaru. That mummified head, the devil's head—do you think I can have it?” asked Numachi. From her perspective, it must have seemed like a compromise, like she was cutting me some slack—she was nothing if not a pacifist.
Even at this juncture, she wanted to select a method where we'd both come out unscathed.
I don't know if that constituted Easy or Normal or what, but it was a possibility. Just as it was plenty possible to avoid a clash, to kick the can down the line, and to leave it to the future to resolve the issue.
She just didn't think like me, that's all.
She was right.
She had to be.
But I was also right.
I had to be.
Neither of us was wrong—but when right collided with right, only one could win out.
“Not a chance,” I said. “I don't want to be cold to my old archrival after she went to all the trouble of coming here to meet me—but I can't give this to you.”
“Why not?”
“I wonder.” Half of me was genuinely troubled by Numachi's question. “If I have to give a reason, then how about this: I'm worried that if you finish collecting all the parts of the devil, you'll turn into the real thing yourself.”
“Play with a devil and you'll become a devil, is that it? I'm not a weakling, unlike the rest of you.”
“Who knows? I mean, this is the head—the brain, of all things...But no, you won't, you're probably right. You're strong. You don't need to ask a devil to grant your wishes. If you have a wish, you'll grant it yourself. So if I have to give a reason—” I tried to weigh my words, but they were too heavy. “I just can't stand to look at you.”
“Can't stand to look? fine, just don't look then.”
She seemed suspicious, and I shook my head.
Sure, totally.
But I can't help it.
Because I can see you—whether I like it or not.
Whether it's because we had both possessed pieces of the devil or because I was prey to the sort of unhappiness that made someone turn to Lord Devil for advice, or because we were archrivals back in the day, I can't say.
But I can see you.
Since I can see you—I can't stand to look at you.
“I think every event in the world comes down to that feeling,”
I said. “I can't stand to look, I can't leave it alone, that kind of simple motivation is at the root. Even justice and evil must start out as not being able to stand it—we're forced to look at things we don't want to see, and we can't bear it.”
“…”
“Let's settle it with a match, Numachi.” I took the paulownia box out of my bag and flourished it at her as I spoke. “This is the showdown. On the court of this gym, one on one. If you win, I'll give you this piece of our cultural heritage. And if you lose, you'll give up collecting unhappiness and devil parts—forever.”
“...What the hell? That's ridiculous,” she said as if it really was ridiculous, and out of the question. As if she wouldn't even consider it. “There's nothing in it for me, is there?”
“Sure there is. If you decide to take me up on my offer, at the very least I won't smash this mummified head to smithereens with a hammer.
“A hammer... You must be joking.”
“I'm not. As a collector, I don't see how you can pass this up—but even more than that, if you really were a basketball player, how can you refuse?”
“I warn you...” Numachi narrowed her eyes in a glare that announced she was doing just that. “If that mummified head is on the table, this won't be fun and games like it was last time. It'll be an actual match.”
“Yeah? I was sure you were playing your hardest last time.”
“Actual means actually using this devil's arm and leg—Kanbaru, do you really think that a regular human like you has any chance of beating me?”
“If I didn't...I wouldn't play, would I.”