Chapter 8

The story moved to the merchant’s house. I checked the time and was surprised that more than ten minutes had passed. It had felt like an instant. I was doubly surprised at how much of the play had been packed into such a short time. I wiped the sweat from my brow, steadied my breathing, and jumped into the next scene. The mysterious intrigue surrounding the merchant family unfolded, and Tetsu and Suzume fell in love. I understood why some male actors fall for their female costars. It was hard to tell whether I felt my character’s emotions or my own. On top of that, Chitose’s acting was incredible. She could switch from playing an innocent, blushing maiden to “wearing the mystery,” becoming as enthralling and as peering into a bottomless lake. I struggled to keep up, simulating the experience of a man completely under her spell. The scene where we hugged was absolutely embarrassing. Since we were doing this online, we had to hug the air while whispering words of love. I could feel sweat trickling down my neck. But Chitose nailed the scene, never looking flustered and moving gracefully the entire time. The story approached the climax of the first section. The pace quickened and the energy built to the point of bursting. Tetsu’s skills as a detective came to the forefront, and something felt right as I acted out the part where he solved the murder. It was like a wave of confidence, similar to riding a horse, in which you share a mutual understanding. I saw Amou nodding on my screen, and somehow, I was sure he had known all along how things would turn out. Tetsu and Suzume solved the murder brilliantly, but the real killer schemed to have them pursued even further. Realizing they had no escape, the two resolved to die together. They promised to meet in the next life and took turns stabbing each other’s stomachs with a knife before throwing themselves into the Seiryu River. But Tetsu survived. “I’ve killed Suzume!” Tetsu wailed in despair as their pursuers closed in. After wrestling with this bitter truth, he made up his mind to kill them as well. “I’ve killed one person, and now fate calls me to kill more!” And just at the moment, ring—a bell sounded. A bell? At first, I thought my ears were playing tricks on me, so I continued the scene. But then I heard it again. Ring… Ring… Ring… The eerie sound continued. “What’s that sound?” Amou finally asked, and the scene came to a halt. Suddenly, Sugai screamed. “Kuroyama!” A chorus of screams followed. I quickly expanded Kuroyama’s window and felt a chill of horror. A mummy stood behind him. It wore a crimson upper robe, a blue-and-yellow monastic robe, and a golden ceremonial Kannon hat. Its face was dry and shriveled. It was undeniably a mummy, standing still, eerily behind Kuroyama. Its right hand moved, producing the ringing sound…the chime of a bell. I stared in silence as an icy chill crawled up my spine. “What is it, guys?” Kuroyama asked, tilting his head. “Behind you!” Sugai shouted. “Behind me?” He turned in his chair, and in that instant, the mummy moved. The image of it reaching out with its left arm blocked the camera. My terrified reflection shimmered on the now-pitch-black screen. A gunshot rang out. The darkness cleared. Someone screamed. A hole gaped in Kuroyama’s chest. The mummy rang the bell one more time before turning away from the camera and walking silently through the door, leaving no sound of footsteps behind. Amid the chorus of screams, I buried my face in my hands and collapsed to my knees on the floor. The second murder had just happened. 23 Amou called the police and instructed us not to do anything until further notice. A short while later, a police officer appeared on-screen. I turned off my microphone and decided to lie on the floor, my mind heavy with shock. I couldn’t think. It felt like my brain was weighed down with lead. After what felt like forever, I heard a scratching sound. Saburou was pawing at the glass. I yelped in surprise and quickly opened the sliding glass door. “Where in the world have you been…?” Tears filled my eyes. He smelled like the street, but I picked him up without hesitation. He purred and swished his tail. I sat on the floor again, looking into Saburou’s eyes— Miri appeared, looking desolate. I couldn’t speak for a moment. “Long time no see,” I began, then remembered how time worked differently for us. “The second murder happened.” “Kuroyama… It’s such a shame. It’s so sad.” There was something strange about how she said it. A cold sensation crawled up my spine. “…Did you know Kuroyama would be murdered?” I asked. Miri’s face turned pale. Her hazel eyes, usually bright like jewels, seemed to hold a deep, endless void in their center. Her cherry blossom–colored lips trembled before she finally spoke. “Yes, I did.” For a second, my mind was blank. Then a flood of sorrow and anger surged through me, and I couldn’t hold back the tears. “What do you mean? You knew and didn’t say anything? Did you let him get murdered?” “I’m so sorry,” she said, her face expressionless. “Kuroyama’s death… It was fate. It had already been decided, and nothing we could have done would have changed it.” “Fate? What good is that? You say we couldn’t change anything, but I can’t accept that. What if I had found a way to stop rehearsals today? Would Kuroyama still have been murdered?” “It’s not that simple. Even if you had, he would have been killed another day, in a different way. Matters of life and death can’t be reversed except in extreme circumstances… That’s why I’m going to die, too.” Silence fell between us. Saburou mewed sadly. Miri touched her left earring, her voice filled with resignation. “As things stand now, I die in a plane crash. And if I don’t get on that plane, it’ll be a car accident, or someone will attack me on the street, or I’ll die from a disease. The method changes, but the result is the same. That’s how fate works.” My chest ached. There was a deep sense of resignation in her voice. But still, I couldn’t accept it. Maybe Miri was lying. Maybe there was another reason we couldn’t meet in person, and she was actually alive, keeping it a secret. It wasn’t impossible… But how could I catch her in the lie? If I could look into her eyes… I shivered at the thought. The other day, I had looked into my own eyes in the mirror and then into Karin’s mother’s eyes within those memories. Could I do the same with Miri, using Saburou as a link? If she knew the future—if she had memories involving the future—couldn’t I see it by looking into those memories? Something about the idea felt dangerous. I had a bad feeling about it. It could bring about the absolute worst. But even so, I longed for the hope that Miri might still be alive. To look into her eyes, I had to make her cry. I closed my eyes and imagined Miri’s death. I focused, making it vivid, real. As I did, a deep sadness welled up inside me. When I opened my eyes, tears streamed down my face. Just imagining her horrible fate was enough to bring me to tears. I didn’t say anything. I just let the tears flow. “Yochi, I’m so sorry,” Miri said, her face twisting in sadness. Then tears began to trickle from her eyes. I looked into Miri’s eyes and made a connection, and— An intense sensation of my mind being thrown into a blender assaults me. Reality and dreams, dreams and myself, the border between them disappears, plummeting endlessly into the depths of opposing mirrors… I hear a sound. Like wind blowing through a tree hollow. The sound of a fire crackling. The smell of burning, the sensation of rain hitting my cheeks. A fantastic drowsiness overcomes me, my eyelids tremendously heavy. My vision is blurry; the rain pours down unforgivingly. I see a dark moon. A full black moon burns, engulfed in the flames of hell. Something wears that moon like a shadowy halo, looking down upon me. A sharp pain burns in my abdomen. A deathly pain. A hole gapes in my stomach. I can feel the life pour out of me with each heartbeat. I know it for certain. I’m going to die. And then the connection was cut.