He was groping about in the dark. The Bengal-orange light was quickly fading.
Is that the exit, or is it this way?
The darkness spread out infinitely and he was left with no way of knowing which way was which. There was no light visible.
I can’t see. I can’t even see myself or what I’ve lost. What I’ve lost…
“D… Daiki-ku… Daiki-kun!”
Realizing he was being called, Daiki turned around. The man calling him was from the publishing company that was sponsoring his exhibition. He was still rather young, but already in a position of authority.
“What’s wrong? You’ve been out of it for a while now.”
The man wore a concerned expression, seeing Daiki completely devoid of concentration.
Daiki lied. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little tired…”
The man seemed satisfied with this answer. “Yes, well, it’s only a few days before the exhibition. After all, this is the starting point of your career as an artist.”
He viewed the surroundings with a faraway look in his eyes. This was Daiki’s exhibition gallery. Starting with the award-winning pieces that had inspired the exhibition, several of his canvasses were laid out all over the place.
They weren’t simply hung on the walls, but, considering Daiki’s youth, were laid out to a rather fashionable effect. The design reflected Daiki’s youthful generation.
That Daiki was young also made for good publicity. Smelling a hot item, the media would be swarming all over the gallery on opening day.
For the publishing company, there was no doubt this would make for perfect advertising. For the young man put in charge, this project was a chance for career advancement.
From the moment they had first met, Daiki immediately sensed an energy welling up within this man.
“Don’t worry,” the man gushed. “It will be a huge success. After all, your work is magnificent! In your method of incorporating light, I can see an individual style!”
The man spoke broadly, like the host of an infomercial. The line he’d just given was something he most likely had picked up from some critic. He probably had no idea what the artwork was truly worth. He simply went with the ebb and flow of the masses.
And besides, this publishing company had the blessings of the godly Ikuma Ichiyo. That had to have at least some influence on the exhibition. But privately speaking, the company still remained doubtful as to whether Daiki had any value or not.
Daiki viewed the man, as usual, with cold unfeeling eyes.
You don’t know the value of art, he thought. And you don’t understand my worth. Don’t talk as if you know.
That was always his opinion of the man. But on this day, the man’s words never even reached Daiki’s ears. He remained in a stupor. It was as if he couldn’t even tell where he was at this place and time.
“……”
Why was he in this place? Why was he still alive? Why? Why…
“…That’s because you’re not meant to die yet.”
“What…?”
—Ring.
It was the girl’s voice.
“…!”
He turned around, but neither she nor the black cat were there. He looked around and saw no trace of them. Was he hearing things?
No, he had definitely heard her.
The little girl was a shinigami, yet she showed such emotion.
Ever since he had run away from her that day, it felt as if his feet weren’t planted firmly on the ground. He kept thinking of a reason for those sad eyes. The shinigami, who was supposed to bring death, was trying to prevent his. The girl’s words, like rain soaking into parched earth, seeped into Daiki’s soul.
Why did she show herself to him? And what was the reason for her sadness?
“I don’t understand. I thought there was no reason to live, but I am still alive.”
If she hadn’t shown up, he would have become light.
“Why…” he continued to ask.
“Is something wrong?”
The man peered into Daiki’s face quizzically. “It seems you aren’t feeling well after all. We should call it a day.”
“All right…” Daiki agreed meekly.
The man then tried to lead Daiki out through the exit. But…
“Oh…” The man suddenly stopped. Still in a stupor, Daiki continued walking. Unaware that the man in front of him had stopped, he bumped straight into the man’s back. The man almost fell over, but somehow he kept his feet and began to move forward once more, hurrying toward the entrance.
“Ah, Ikuma-sensei!”
The man greeted and bowed deeply to the person who suddenly appeared there. The secretary opened the door, and in came… Ikuma Ichiyo.
“If you had sent word,” the flustered man declared, “I would have come to receive you!”
This sudden appearance caused sweat to form on the man’s brow. He was uncertain what to do next. However, Ichiyo lightly restrained the man with one hand and instead walked straight over to Daiki.
“How are things?” Ichiyo asked his son in an ordinary, albeit intimidating, tone of voice.
“E-everything’s fine, Father,” Daiki stammered.
“I see.”
Ichiyo’s appearance put Daiki in a quandary as well. Although the layout and decorations were already finished, it was still quite a while before the opening. Even though it was normal for his son to be here, it was out of the ordinary for one such as Ichiyo to make an appearance before opening night.
It’s not likely he’s worried about me. Well, he probably just wants to make sure my artwork doesn’t ruin the good name of Ikuma Ichiyo, Daiki thought.
As expected, Ichiyo spoke. “Then let me have a quick look. I’m a bit concerned about something…”
He couldn’t possibly have the time for this, yet here he was, troubling himself with his boy’s exhibition. A busy man like him must have plans for tomorrow as well. Daiki remembered that, before his father left to go abroad and after his return, he had been spending a lot of time locked up in his studio. He must be working on a new painting.
The publisher’s representative spoke, bowing deeply at the waist over and over. “If… if that’s the case, then I shall guide you.”
“No, that won’t be necessary,” came Ichiyo’s unexpected reply. “Will the two of you excuse us?”
By “the two of you,” he meant the man and the secretary. Not willing to argue, the man wiped the sweat from his brow and dutifully went outside with the secretary. Then, without a word, Ichiyo began walking through the gallery. Half taken aback, Daiki followed behind.
—Ring… ring ring…