“However, you found out that the System, which held the Akashic records, couldn’t be used as it once could. That’s why you abandoned your plan and went back to being a doctor, isn’t it?”
The Akashic records could be used to change the workings of the world.
In fact, that was exactly what Abel had once plotted to do. So Siesta thought Stephen’s group had been attempting the same thing?
“But, Siesta, Stephen agreed to get rid of the Akashic records. That’s why we were able to destroy the System: because all the Tuners willed it to be that way.”
“Back then, yes. He had an ulterior motive, though. Like you, his group was hoping that if the Akashic records disappeared, the enemies of the world would, too. But things weren’t that simple. Even with the Akashic records gone, the world they’d hoped for didn’t come to pass.”
Silence filled the room. We all knew who the next one to speak should be and were waiting for it to happen.
When Stephen finally opened his mouth, he explained the motives of his absent former comrades.
“Youkaki the Revolutionary was born in the slums of a certain country. Although she began making a living as a prostitute from a young age, her unwavering will allowed her to obtain extraordinarily good looks and conversation skills, and in the end, she had the world’s politicians wrapped around her little finger. She needed the Akashic records to erase the concept of status from the world.
“Full-Face the Hero was a war orphan. To others, he always seemed to have an abnormally strong will for justice, and before he knew it, he’d become a symbol of justice himself. That trust saw him trapped holding the switches for powerful weapons sleeping all over the world. However, this contradiction later brought him to a standstill, and he tried to use the power of the Akashic records to do away with all weapons.”
They had both been chasing their ideal, driven by their will, and the strength of their wish had led them to pursue an as yet unseen taboo. There was hardly anything separating them from Abel.
The only difference was that both the Revolutionary and the Hero had once held back. They hadn’t reached for that Pandora’s box—the Akashic records—and had even thought that throwing it away might make their dreams a reality.
But the world hadn’t changed. Poverty, violence, and war hadn’t disappeared. That was what the world’s wisdom, Bruno Belmondo, had argued until the very end.
“That’s why you needed the Akashic records again.” They’d needed the System once more to turn their wills into power so they could change the world.
“It isn’t possible anymore, though,” Siesta murmured quietly.
The System’s light had already died, and it had lost most of its power.
“No. Which means you have no need to be wary of us any longer.” Stephen stared at the attaché case by our feet as he spoke.
He’d effectively acknowledged that our theory was correct. Was that why Siesta had come here? To make sure she knew who was a friend and who was an enemy?
“What was it that you wanted to do with the Akashic records, Stephen?”
Even if it was a wish that couldn’t come true, he’d gone against Bruno’s wishes, so I figured he could fill us in on at least that much. But just then—
“It looks like it was a good thing we came prepared.”
—Siesta turned around, leveling her pistol. The silver attaché case had clearly been a fake out. She’d been carrying a concealed weapon that was easier to use in close quarters.
So who’d managed to sneak up behind us? The Revolutionary, the Hero, or some as yet unseen enemy? I turned around, but what I saw startled me.
“…A kid?”
A boy about ten years old was holding a gun with shaking hands. Siesta’s eyes widened slightly. The assailant was smaller than either of us had expected.
“Our visitor has nothing to do with this conversation,” Stephen said, slowly rising from his chair. He continued in Japanese so only Siesta and I would understand. “The other day, this boy’s father was attacked and killed by a mugger. The mugger was also seriously wounded in the struggle, and he was brought to this clinic. I operated on him and saved his life.”
…Ah, so that’s what this was.
Stephen’s explanation had been brief, but it was enough for the pieces to click into place. In other words, the kid was here for revenge. He was pointing a gun at the doctor who’d dared to save the man who’d killed his father.
“I’ll talk to him,” Stephen said, making Siesta lower her gun. He went to stand in front of the boy, who hadn’t managed to steady his aim yet. “I won’t tell you nothing good comes of revenge. But I have a duty to save people’s lives, regardless of whether those people are good or bad. I’m a doctor, and that’s what doctors do. Today after this, I’m scheduled to save the lives of seven people.”
Stephen wouldn’t compromise his philosophy even when dealing with a child, but he did kneel to put himself at eye level with the boy.
“I’ll say it again: I don’t claim that nothing good comes of revenge. Someday, when I’m no longer a doctor, if you still have that gun, come find me again. You can shoot me down after I’ve saved all the lives I can.”
After a brief silence, the boy swiped away his tears and ran away.
“Stephen,” Siesta called to his white-coated back. “The wish you wanted to use the Akashic records to make come true. Was it—?”
“Daydream.” Stephen cut her off, turning around. “As the former Inventor, there is one piece of information I should give you. Come back here tomorrow morning. After I’ve finished those seven surgeries.”
Stephen gave us a rare, faint grin, his lab coat flaring behind him.
That was the last time we ever saw his smile.