Chapter 9
REVERSAL
I
Rumi ran blindly through the pitch-black halls, striking a wall here, tripping over a desk there. None of that mattered. She kept on running in full panic.
Each time she fell, her hands came up pricked with glass shards and wooden splinters, but she hardly felt any pain. Running with such reckless desperation, she finally seemed to have lost the man. For a while, she had heard his breathing at her back, but it was gone now.
At last, she arrived at the green room near the emergency exit. Relief flooded her. The dim light offered respite from utter darkness. Here, she could manage to calm her nerves.
Rumi sat down in a chair and let her shoulders drop. She looked down at her feet and saw pools of blackened blood that had accumulated in little mounds on the floor, congealed into something like coffee jelly. She hadn’t known that blood could pile up like that.
This was that freak’s blood. He had removed his own skin—his own skin. And then he tried to skin Mima-san.
No matter how much he loved idols, how could that passion have brought a man to do what he had done? He was a freak. And not just any freak, but one of total and unparalleled monstrosity.
Rumi remained seated in the chair for a time, but eventually she began to fear his sudden appearance, and the thought of it compelled her to her feet once more.
I have to get out of here as quickly as I can, Rumi thought.
She popped her head out the door and searched for any sign of the man’s presence. She strained her ears for the sound of his breathing or his footsteps rustling in the dark.
She heard nothing.
Realizing that this was her chance, Rumi decided to run for the emergency exit—but something inside her held her back.
Mima-san, she thought. She couldn’t leave Mima-san here to her fate and only save herself.
And so she remained in that room.
She returned to the chair and considered what course of action would best help Mima. She could stay in the TV studio building, find Mima, and face the man together. That was one option. But it wasn’t one she saw ending in their victory.
Instead, Rumi could escape the building and find help, whether from Tadokoro or the police. The more she thought about it, the more that seemed like the best choice.
She made up her mind, and in the next moment, she was out of the room.
Swish!
Something cut through the air directly in front of her face.
The knife’s edge glinted amid the darkness. The man was there.
Rumi recoiled and fell into the shadows at the edge of the hallway.
The man stood silhouetted by the green room’s dim light. “I told you you couldn’t run,” he said in his wheezing voice. “You’ll never escape me.”
He brandished the knife and said, “I’ll start with you. I’ll kill you first, and then I’ll take your skin. Then Mima will be next. If you’re wondering why I’m going to kill you first, it’s simple. I always save the tastiest bite for last.”
He swung the knife down at her.
Rumi rolled to the side, dodging the strike. The knife just barely grazed the side of her stomach.
Holding a hand to the wound, Rumi shakily got to her feet. A single streak of blood ran through her fingers.
The man changed his grip on the knife and came at her with a horizontal slash, aimed at her face. Instinctively, Rumi jerked to the side; the knife passed millimeters from her cheek.
The man grunted in frustration and began to swing the knife with crazed abandon.
With her eyes locked on his, Rumi moved away. She took a step back, and her heel caught on something—a piece of scrap wood.
Rumi lost her balance, twisting sideways as she tumbled to the floor.
The man straddled her, pinning her shoulders down with his knees. He gripped his knife with both hands and raised the weapon high.
Rumi tried to shake him off of her—she wrenched her body with all her strength—but the man didn’t budge.
Within his mask of flesh, the man’s eyes glimmered with anticipation. He shouted, “Say goodbye!” and swung the knife down.
Rumi grabbed his wrists with both hands. But still the knife kept coming. With her hands still on his wrists, she turned her head to the side.
The knife grazed past her face, leaving a small cut beneath her earlobe before striking against the floor.
The man clicked his tongue, then took another stab at her face. This time, Rumi rocked her shoulders, throwing off his aim, and the blade left another shallow cut at the base of her neck.
A thin spray of blood spurted out and painted the man’s eyeballs red.
The man grunted and cursed, then grabbed Rumi by the chin with his left hand. “Let’s see you try and move your head now!” he cried.
He raised the knife once more.
This time, Rumi was finished. She closed her eyes in resignation.
The next moment, a flash brought daylight to the room.
The man covered his eyes with his hand. For just an instant, he slackened his hold—but it was just enough time for Rumi to free herself from under him.
Once she had, she saw two figures standing behind him.
Simultaneously, the figures shouted, “Rumi!” and “Rumi-chan!”
Rumi gasped. “Tadokoro-san, Yuji-san…”
She slipped past the man and staggered to their side. Tadokoro caught her in his arms. Yuji discarded the camera he was holding and embraced her from behind.