Aoyama’s eyesight was barely functioning. He could only see the streetlights very faintly. The same went for the buildings. Trapped in that dark cloud of nothingness, he sensed a sharp, grassy scent filling his nostrils. He wasn’t sure why his consciousness was still as clear as this. He had the unpleasant feeling that parts of his body were being pulled around in unnatural ways.
Krsh, krsh, krsh…
He heard it close by. It was Haruko. Haruko was here. She was probably right behind him. Having achieved her goal of securing Toshihiko, she had removed Rumi for hurting her feelings, and now she was coming for Aoyama.
What was Haruko’s ultimate goal, though? Was it to possess Yuuki Sayama—her own son—and have him achieve happiness as a woman? What would that even mean? If she was as powerful as this, why even involve her son? Why not possess her ideal man right from the outset? Now that the school kids had spread her story and made her more powerful, why should she go about things in such a roundabout way?
Krsh, krsh, krsh…
Haruko was close enough now to be breathing down his neck. Rumi had said they were short on time. She was right. In just a few moments, Aoyama would be completely and utterly swallowed by the black mist.
The image of Rumi helplessly apologizing, saying, “I’m sorry, Mommy,” drifted into his mind. She’d turned her tear-filled eyes to him and clung onto his arm like a frightened young girl. She’d asked him if he’d had “the dream.” Then she’d talked about a poor kid being controlled by his mother and how she needed a mother, too…
“Ah!” He let out a cry as understanding dawned.
It made sense now. Rumi had probably seen Haruko in her dreams. Why else would she ask him if he had, too? Normally, the Haruko dream only affected children. Rumi must have had a dream and seen Haruko in it. Not just Haruko herself but also her son, Yuuki Sayama, who was being controlled by her. Was she feeling some kind of affinity with him? Aoyama didn’t know if they’d had a similar upbringing or if it was something else, but Rumi clearly wasn’t going to able to bring her A game to this confrontation.
Krsh, krsh, krsh…
The grinding hadn’t stopped. It was so loud, he could feel his eardrums vibrating. His shoulders were killing him. His shirt felt damp; he was probably bleeding. But Haruko hadn’t attacked him yet. She hadn’t done anything when she’d appeared at the park, either. He could only think of one reason for that. Aoyama had something that Rumi and Toshihiko didn’t—Mononobe’s protection.
He opened and closed his hand a few times. Warmth started to return to his fingertips, and he found he was able to move again. He took a deep breath. His throat made a choking sound like he’d loosened up a glob of phlegm, and he went into a violent coughing fit. Apart from that, he was fine.
It was all in his head. The ground shaking, the black mist covering the world—none of it was real. When he ignored it and focused on himself, he was able to stand up without any trouble. The ground was solid beneath him. Calm now, he strained his eyes and was able to discern a person a short distance away. It was a petite man with a delicate frame. He wore a white shirt and beige chino pants. That must be the real Yuuki Sayama.
“Mommy…”
He was muttering deliriously.
“Mommy…”
Aoyama remembered how sad Rumi had sounded. Much like her, Sayama’s eyes were moving rapidly back and forth, like he just couldn’t calm down. Big, round eyes, mouth and nose on the smaller side, somewhat androgynous features…but he was still unmistakably a man.
Mononobe said waking or dreaming made no difference. Miki said he’d made up the seventh mystery story using an old manga as a reference. Aoyama had read that arc himself. The detailed settings, the strict rules… That’s right, there was one rule that didn’t make sense—the win condition, as it were. That would normally be impossible, unthinkable. The dream was designed to make Haruko and her curse as frightening and as powerful as possible. Why provide a way out of it?
Deep down inside Aoyama, certainty was forming. He had to end this. And he had a feeling he knew how.
“I found the boy.”
The grinding abruptly stopped.
“I found the boy.”
He said it again, clearly and calmly.
“Mommy…”
Sayama’s eyes were still empty, but he’d shifted his gaze toward Aoyama. He could hear him. He had to keep him talking.
“Yuuki Sayama. You’re a boy. You’re the boy.”
“Mommy…”
“I don’t doubt that the story you told Miki was the truth. But one thing about it seemed strange to me. If Haruko really wanted a wonderful new life for herself, why would making you pursue her idea of a woman’s happiness bring her any comfort?”
“Mommy…”
“Haruko Kadowaki… Your mother—she was more of the free and easy type. To be blunt, she was self-centered. Why would someone like that care if her child was happy? The reason she made you dress like a girl was because she hated men so much. It doesn’t seem like she wanted you to live out her dreams for her, either.”
“Shut up.”
Sayama had finally turned toward Aoyama and spoken of his own accord. His voice was quiet but seething with rage.
“What would you know?”
Sayama’s legs shifted as if he was getting ready to charge forward.
“I know.”
The street was suddenly so still and quiet that it hurt Aoyama’s ears. There was no sign of Haruko. And the reason for that…
“Haruko is just someone you made up.”
Sayama’s eyes went wide in surprise.
“That’s not true! Mommy’s right here!”
Sayama pointed to the left of him.
“I don’t see her. There’s no one there.”
There was a loud thump, as though something heavy had hit the ground. Aoyama turned in the direction it had come from to see Toshihiko and Rumi lying in a heap.
“Mommy is here! She’s always with me!”
“No, she’s not. She’s dead. She’s dead, and she has no reason to stay with you.”
“But Mommy… She was mad at me. She’s mad because…because I said I was a boy…” Large tears were flowing from Sayama’s eyes now. “I… I killed her…”
“No, you didn’t.”
Aoyama was firm.
“Haruko Kadowaki was murdered by a man who broke into her apartment. You had nothing to do with her death.”