“She said, ‘Hold tighter, stupid.’ ” Morino closed her eyes tightly, holding her emotions in check. “When I heard that, I stopped trying to save her. I let go.”
Yoru’s body had fallen.
Her toes had stopped just above the ground. Yoru had not been wearing shoes; she was barefoot. Her toes were spread wide, all the muscles contracted, shaking at first. The dog barked furiously, hurting Yuu’s ears. The convulsions and that barking seeped deep into her mind.
“Finally, her strength ebbed away, and her toes stopped moving.”
Yuu had stepped backward and felt the ground stick to her shoes. She’d left footprints.
“If it had been my weight alone, there wouldn’t have been footprints.” Her sister’s shoes had been placed on the ground next to her.
“I remember seeing those and deciding to lie to everyone. In that little shed … my sister’s body still swaying slightly, like the pendulum of a clock.”
The little girl’s immature brain had thought desperately and seen a path before her. She had changed into the black shoes, putting her own white shoes in their place.
Walking on dry ground, she had slipped out through the dog door. Her shoes were black, and black shoes identified her as Yoru. She had to call herself Yoru and act like Yoru.
“I could no longer smile like I used to. I had to keep my face blank, like my sister’s. We were always together, and I knew what my sister was like. I could imitate her. For nine years, no one ever guessed that I was Yuu.”
She gave a long, weary sigh.
At eight years old, she had watched her own funeral. She had lived most of her life never saying her real name. Nobody knew what was going on inside her, and those emotions had built up until she had slashed her wrist … all because of her sister and the name that had been buried with her. The road the young girl had decided to follow was one of sadness and isolation, one on which her entire existence depended.
The light from the windows was fading, turning gold. The pale yellow curtains were half-drawn, dimming the sun. I could hear the sound of the baseball team at batting practice echoing through the air. Time in the empty classroom ticked by in silence.
At last, Morino opened her mouth, still not sure if she should say it. “Do you remember where and when we first met?”
I believed it was in this classroom, at the beginning of our second year of high school. She looked a little disappointed to hear that.
“In junior high, I saw you at the museum, looking at a human body cut into slices. Then, in the spring when we entered high school, I saw you in the library reading a medical text on autopsies. I recognized you at once.”
That’s why she had known I was acting in class. It made sense. We each had detected what the other was hiding from those around us.
“I find it hard to believe that you used to laugh and smile when you were Yuu.”
“I know. I once was like that, but ever since I left the shed, I thought people would know I was Yuu if I smiled. I spent nine years trying not to have any expressions, trying to be my sister. Now I can’t smile, not even if I want to.”
She seemed ever so slightly forlorn; I doubted anyone else would have noticed it. She looked away from me as she continued, “I thought you might be the first to call me by my name.”
I stood up. “I have something for you. I took it with me from your home in the country.”
I removed it from a bag on my desk. “What?” she asked, not getting up.
“The rope you were looking for. I think it will fit nicely. Close your eyes—I’ll put it on you.”
Morino sat still, closing her eyes. I stood behind her, and her tiny shoulders stiffened; she was more than a little tense.
I wrapped a red rope around her neck. It was a dirty rope. I had found it in the shed, where it had been used to tie up the dog.
“I also know why you hate dogs so much.”
I gently tightened the rope around her long black hair and her pale slender neck.
As the pressure tightened, her shoulders shook. For a moment I stood there like that. Then I tied the rope, letting the ends of it hang down behind her.
“Yes … that’s it …” she sighed. All the tension poured out of her, everything inside her softening, releasing.
Yoru had died hanging from the dog’s rope, a fact that had been sealed away deep in Morino’s memories. She had never realized the rope she was looking for was the same one that had killed her sister.
“I never hated my sister. She did horrible things sometimes, but no one could ever replace her …”
I picked up my bag and went home. When I passed her seat as I left the room, I turned back to look at Yuu one more time. She was sitting in her chair, her legs stretched out in front of her, her hands folded in front of her chest, the red rope around her neck tumbling down her back to the door.
Her eyes were closed, her lashes lowered. There was soft downy hair on her cheeks, like on a rabbit’s back. It glistened in the light of the setting sun, as though she were clad in light. A tear ran down her check, falling from her chin onto her uniform.
I left her alone, closing the classroom door behind me without a sound.