†
✦ ✦ ✦
For a moment, he lost track of time. Before he knew it, Saeki was sitting on the porch. it was still dark out, but he could hear the birds singing and knew it was almost dawn.
The lights were on inside, and someone was walking around. He lacked the energy to go investigate. His hands were still shaking.
He turned his head, and at last the boy passed across the brightly lit entrance.
Their eyes met, and the boy asked if he was feeling better. Apparently, the boy had helped him to the porch.
“I’m missing a few memories.”
“You cried the whole time.”
Saeki touched his cheek and found it still damp.
“I assumed you wouldn’t mind if I came in,” the boy explained.
Saeki looked out at the garden again. There was no sign of the hole he had dug, and there were four poles. For a second, he felt like none of it had happened.
“Those bamboo poles were designed to pass through the coffin lids, allowing the occupant to breathe, right?” the boy asked as he stood next to Saeki. Apparently, the boy had filled the hole back in. But why had the boy not called the police immediately? Why had he filled in the hole?
There was no sign of the girl’s boyfriend. Was he sleeping somewhere inside the house, shut down like Saeki had been?
The girl in the ground had believed he would find her and that he wouldn’t leave her alone. Saeki could never pay for the sin of having shattered their love.
Saeki turned to look back into the house.
The boy had his cell phone out and was calling someone, a student contact book in his hand.
“I just found your ID on the street,” the boy explained. Clearly, he was calling the real Morino Yoru.
She apparently hung up as soon as he’d finished the sentence, as the boy was staring down at his phone, muttering, “Right, it’s awfully early.” Apparently, Morino was never to know the profound effect of her lost ID on Saeki’s life.
The sky was turning pale. Looking east from his porch, Saeki could see the row of evergreens. Beyond the black shadows of the trees, the sky was glowing red. The white mist was gone.
The boy came and sat on Saeki’s left.
They stared at the bamboo poles for a while. The trowel he’d used to fill in the hole was lying on the ground next to the boy.
The morning sun rose beyond the trees, striking the pale cheeks of the boy next to Saeki. Saeki blinked, blinded by the sudden brilliance. The boy’s profile glittered, the rest of his face lost in shadow, making his eyes all the more memorable.
The boy’s eyes had no emotion. They were utterly blank. They were exactly like Saeki’s own eyes had looked when he’d seen his own face in the rearview mirror while he was out searching for a victim. They were eyes that contained unfathomable darkness.
Saeki felt his emotions quieting. His tears had long since faded, and he was no longer dizzy.
“I …” Saeki said.
The boy turned toward him, listening closely, backlit by the rising sun.
“I think I should tell the police what I’ve done,” he said, the words spilling over his lips. All the tension faded out of him. Tears began to flow again. But this time, they were not tears of despair. They glittered, pure as the morning light.
This would be the end of his life. Many people would hate him, their glares stabbing his body. But he wouldn’t mind. He would confess his own sins and wait to be judged—his final choice as a human being.
“I’m glad … I’m glad I could make that choice.”
How many times had he mourned his own lack of humanity? How many times had he cursed his own nature, one that led him to do and imagine such terrible things? But now his remaining humanity had scored a quiet victory.
“I don’t think my sins will vanish, but I’m proud to have made that choice.”
The boy opened his mouth. “I won’t stop you from turning yourself in, Saeki—but will you wait another six months?”
When he asked why, the boy stood up.
“I’m going home now. Saeki, wait six months—or if not that, at least one month. If you are at all grateful, then please. And tell the police that you did everything yourself and that you decided to turn yourself in all on your own.”
He made Saeki swear not to say anything about Morino Yoru or the boy.
“Remember, this is what he wanted. You need not feel guilty about it. Even if you try to rescue him, he will refuse. But you must tell the world that it was your doing. I have left no proof, so nobody will believe I was here, even if you claim I was.”
The boy slipped on his shoes, stepping off the porch.
Saeki could not understand what he was saying. Before he could ask, the boy left the porch, heading for the gate in silence, without saying goodbye, without turning around. He simply vanished into the evergreens, leaving only the morning, the garden, and Saeki behind.
Then Saeki realized … If the boy was going home alone, then where was the boyfriend, who Saeki had assumed was lying down in the house somewhere?
He stood up.
He had a hunch.
Staggering, he crossed the garden, barefoot, his breath turning white in the cold morning air.
The bamboo poles at the end of the garden were standing perfectly upright under the brightening sky. The coffin the boy had buried again was under these poles.
Saeki put his ear to the top of the nearest pole.
He could hear a voice inside, muffled as it echoed across the coffin walls. Inside the coffin, a male voice was calling the name of his lover over and over again. A quiet voice, choked with sobs, it echoed the girl’s name again and again.