“Kamiyama. Haven’t seen you in a while,” the boy behind me said, putting his hand on my left shoulder. His palm was very hot. Then he stepped away from the operating cable, facing Itsuki. The hand on my shoulder went with him. I couldn’t move the whole time. I just sat frozen, staring at Itsuki.
“Hello,” Itsuki said, addressing the boy by name, never once taking his eyes off him. From his profile, you would think he had forgotten I was even there.
They faced each other silently, standing on opposite sides of the room. The operating chamber filled with soundless tension. It was so quiet that my ears hurt.
I longed for my sister’s voice. Sitting on the table, I looked down at Itsuki’s feet.
The tape was still in the player.
I sent a signal to the fingers gripping the cold edge of the table, telling them to move. They seemed to be paralyzed, and they wouldn’t budge.
“You came here to save her?” the boy asked. His voice broke the silence, but it only seemed to add to the pressure, the overbearing tension in the air.
I told my muscles to move again, but my fingers, my legs—nothing responded to my will. My heart was beating quickly, but it was like the rest of me had been drugged.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and prayed.
Please move. Let me walk to that tape player … My fingers shuddered, shaking.
“Was I interrupting something?” Itsuki’s voice.
Now that my fingers were moving, they set off a chain reaction, and my arms and legs woke up as well. But my muscles were very tense. They were moving, but I couldn’t put any strength into them. Even so, I managed to fall over the bloodstained edge of the operating table onto the floor below. As I moved away from the table where my sister had died, I felt vaguely like I was alive.
My legs were shaking too much to stand. I crawled across the linoleum, all my weight on my arms, my legs dragging after me. All the dust on the floor ended up on me. Around the operating table, toward the tape deck next to Itsuki’s feet … Itsuki and the boy were still talking, but I could no longer hear any of it. Scrabbling like an insect across the floor, I thought of nothing but the tape.
A jagged fragment of concrete stabbed my arm as I put my weight on it, but I didn’t care.
The boy had described death as loss. He said I’d abandoned everything, choosing to die.
But I wasn’t dead yet. I hadn’t yet abandoned life. I had come to this abandoned building to get something back, to overcome that loss.
As I drew near the tape deck, I thought hard about my sister.
The light next to the tape deck blinded me. Itsuki’s feet moved, crossing in front of the light. His shadow passed over me, moving out of sight. I didn’t turn my head to follow him.
At last, I was close enough that I could reach out and touch the tape deck. I stretched myself out, my fingers brushing against it. I dragged it quickly to my breast and pressed Play, fingers trembling.
There was a whirr as it came to life again. My sister’s voice emerged from the wire mesh over the speaker. Not shaking the air—the vibrations of her voice went directly into my arms as they clutched the tape deck.
Natsumi, I was always worried about you. Every time I said something mean, I regretted it … I’m sorry I ever upset you.
These last few years, we had never been friendly. We had lived like strangers in the same house. I had thought she hated me.
Perhaps leaving a message like this just makes things worse … I’m sure it does. I would be a mess listening to it. But I’m glad I could apologize, before … I mean, I would hate it if you could never smile when you thought about me.
I curled up on the floor, clutching the tape deck to me, listening to the voice of my beloved sister. In my arms was the same sister I had been so close to.
I’m lying here remembering everything we did together when we were kids.
I closed my eyes, listening.
There was a big forest at the top of the hill …
I remembered what we had seen when we were little.
The darkness, the cold concrete walls … it all faded away, and I was standing on the asphalt road, bathed in sunlight.
The guardrail, the posts—they were all so big. I was wearing tiny children’s shoes, and the hill looked so steep. Houses on one side and nothing but the guardrail on the other, a great view of the town beyond it …
You remember walking up it, hand in hand?
I turned around, hearing a familiar child’s voice. My sister was standing there.
She wasn’t much taller than me, and everyone we met said we looked alike.
My sister took my hand in hers. She pointed to the top of the hill, suggesting we climb up there.
I was excited. I ran after her, pulled along by her hand. Warm sunlight left little shadows racing after us, our sneakers squeaking on the concrete as we headed for the tall trees at the top of the hill.
At the top of the hill we stepped into the forest, our sweat drying in the cool air. We walked between trees until we found a cliff with a beautiful view of the town below. We stood looking down, holding hands.
I felt her tiny, warm hand in mine. Standing next to me, she looked at me and smiled, her canines flashing from the corners of her mouth.
There was a bird flying high above the town …
A white bird, its wings stretched all the way open. I had decided that bird must be living in the big river that flowed through town. Its wings never seemed to move at all, just drifting on the wind through the endless blue sky.
Natsumi, I’m going to die here, but you’re still alive. You’ll live on. Promise me you’ll smile—I won’t forgive you if you don’t. Goodbye, Natsumi …
Her voice faded away, to be heard no more. The sound of her breathing and the hiss of the tape vanished, as well. The speakers went silent—her confession was done. Through the clear plastic door, I could see the tape spinning in silence. A clear drop fell on it, a tear dripping off my cheek.
Silently, I whispered, “I’m so sorry … but thank you.”
It was so dark and quiet. I was in the empty hospital. But a moment ago, I had been with her, on that hill.
How long had I been lying there crying?
I was alone now, nothing around but the table and the light. No sign of either boy.
The light shone across the floor, illuminating only that area. I blinked, and I realized part of the floor was wet. There was a big puddle of blood on the floor—fresh blood, not dried. I prayed it didn’t belong to Itsuki.
I tried to stand, still clutching the tape deck. At first, my legs were too weak. I took my time and managed to stagger to my feet.
I left the room, walking unsteadily. I called Itsuki’s name. My voice echoed off the walls, vanishing into the depths of the darkness.
I waited for him at the hospital entrance. The quiet, cold air went right through my clothes, and I shivered, hunching my shoulders, crouching low in the darkness. When the sun finally rose, I was half-asleep. There was no sign of either Itsuki or the boy.
✦ ✦ ✦
epilogue