He’d gotten this information from the text his father had sent him. A violent criminal had attacked and killed Haruko Sayama. Yuuki was eight years old at the time. His memory of seeing his mother’s body was probably fairly accurate. But his mind must have been seriously shaken by the shock of it all. The idea that his mother killed herself because he’d gone against her wishes was never anything more than pure supposition.
Someone was coughing nearby. Rumi was rising unsteadily to her feet. Toshihiko also seemed to have come around, his eyes half opening.
“I heard the seventh mystery story that Miki spread around. For the most part, it was a fictional tale made up by a child. But there was one part that rang true to me. ‘Help me find the boy.’ Not ‘Help me find Taro’ or ‘Help me find my son.’ Those words didn’t come from Haruko, but from you.”
That had been what seemed so unnatural about the story of a pitiable mother searching for her beloved son that Miki had told.
“There’s only one boy you’ve been looking for this whole time—yourself. Your identity as a man, which was denied to you.”
In the corner of his eye, he could see Rumi stretching out one of her arms. He knew what she was trying to do. She always did it when dealing with paranormal threats.
“No!”
Sayama’s eyes were bloodshot. At some point, he’d moved close enough that he was now right in front of Aoyama.
“No, no, no! I… Mommy was…”
“All you did was stand up to your mother. You tried to do what she said, tried to be the ideal girl she wanted you to be…but you couldn’t. This was your way of showing her that you were different from her.”
“Don’t talk like you understand!”
Sayama wrapped his hands around Aoyama’s throat. He squeezed, but there was no real power in it.
“Broadly speaking, there are two kinds of abnormal parent-child relationships. One is where the child rejects everything the mother says. In that case, the mother is still the one in control. The child is still letting what she says dictate their actions. The other is like yours, where the child tries to emulate the mother. But even if they copy her as exactly as they can, the slightest little difference still shines through. You can never stifle your true self completely.”
He gently took Sayama’s hands away from his neck.
“I found the boy.”
He heard the grinding noise. He started feeling dizzy again. The hands, which he’d moved away, pushed against him, stronger now. He felt dizzy. It was like all the oxygen was rapidly draining out of his brain.
“There’s no going back now,” Sayama said in a low voice.
Aoyama couldn’t see his face anymore. All he could see was Haruko Kadowaki, clinging onto Sayama’s head like a grotesque mask. Krsh, krsh, krsh… Something was making the grinding noise, but Haruko was smiling. A lovely, contented smile.
“I will…have you make me…happy, Toshihiko. Then…Mommy will…”
Aoyama’s vision started to blur. His lips opened and closed, gasping for air. He tried to call for Rumi and closed his eyes. Help me, he wanted to say but couldn’t. What right did he have to ask for help when everyone else was suffering so much worse?
“I can’t make you happy,” came a hoarse voice. “But I do think we could help each other find our own happiness.”
Toshihiko weakly took Sayama’s arm.
“I don’t get the way you think at all, Sayama.”
The hands around Aoyama’s neck weakened, then threw him to the floor. His lungs desperately tried to take in oxygen, and the blood seemed to rush to his head all at once, making him feel nauseous.
“Even if my mother died spouting hate and resentment at me, I wouldn’t think anything of it. I’d still hold a funeral for her and remember every now and then the good times when she was nice to me. But that’s all. I’m not that emotional. I’ve never really understood human feelings, love included.”
“What? But…you’re so kind…”
“Only because I’ve been copying you.”
He grasped Sayama’s arm and went on.
“By watching you, I learned how to act like a ‘nice’ or ‘kind’ person. I wanted to be normal. I wanted to be like you.”
Toshihiko gave a rueful laugh.
“Although, I guess you weren’t so normal after all.”
His smile was so beautiful, it was rather intimidating.
“What exactly did you mean about the ring?”
He asked the question like it was some inconsequential part of a casual conversation. Even now, the grinding sound hadn’t gone away. But Aoyama no longer felt gripped by fear.
“Did you mean the ones I got from the LaQua spa this summer? Those rubber ones with the lights inside? They were giving them out at the door; I got a bunch of them. I figured if I gave one to Harukawa, she’d get the wrong idea… Looks like you did, too.”
“Wrong idea…? No, I—”
“You got the wrong idea. I don’t love anyone. I don’t think I can. In a weird way, though, it’s not so bad, knowing how you feel about me.”
Sayama gaped like a fish choking around on dry land.
“Maybe it’s because I looked up to you so much. It works out pretty well, don’t you think? I want to keep studying how to act normal from you, and you love me and want to marry me. You’re not really normal, and I don’t love you back. But if we’re both okay with that, it shouldn’t be a problem, right?”
Aoyama was starting to realize just how irregular a person Toshihiko Katayama really was. After everything he’d been through, he was shrugging it off like it was nothing. His eyes were sparkling like dancing stars, just like they always did. He wasn’t lying. Nothing seemed to suggest he was making all this up solely to placate Sayama.
For his part, Sayama didn’t look too sure of himself. His gaze darted in every direction. He seemed to firm his resolve and opened his mouth to speak. Then there was a loud crack like a circuit breaker being flipped. All of a sudden, Sayama was down on one knee. He’d passed out.
“I finally did it.”
That was Rumi’s voice. Finally did what? Aoyama wasn’t sure, but the streetlights were back on now. Rumi’s cheeks, which had been deathly pale this whole time, now had a little bit of color in them. That was enough for him.
“Well then, Sir Toshihiko.”
Toshihiko was still holding Sayama’s arm.
“What will you do now?”
“Nothing at all.”
Toshihiko swung the limp arm back and forth.
“Just one more interesting thing in my life.”