As I recalled, it was back when I was about twenty years old. After dozens of parallel shift experiments, I had finally gotten permission for a long-distance shift. And so, for my next trip in the IP capsule, I decided I would go much, much farther than usual.
Our experiments were always conducted around 2 a.m., since it was too risky to shift during the day. If I shifted to a world where I was in the middle of traffic, the split-second mind lag could cause a major accident. That happened to Shiori, after all.
At 2 a.m., however, I was generally asleep. There was never a guarantee, of course, but more than 90 percent of the time I’d find myself lying in bed, just as expected. And this particular shift was no different in that regard.
But this time, there was a critical difference…and when I realized what it was, I very nearly screamed.
My right hand was clutching someone else’s.
Slowly, fearfully, I turned my head to the right.
Someone was lying next to me. I felt their skin and realized we were both naked. Through the dim glow of the nightlight, I could faintly see their figure. Long hair… A girl.
For a moment, my hopes soared. Could it be…Shiori? Could this be a world where she didn’t turn into a ghost after meeting me? The very world I’d sought all this time?
To find out, I fumbled for the lamp on the bedside table and switched it on. The sudden light woke her.
“Mmm…? What’s wrong, Koyomi?” Rubbing her eyes, the woman looked at me.
…Who the hell are you?!
“Need the restroom? Or…did you want to go another round?” she asked, smiling bashfully.
Her eyes, her ears, her nose, her smile, her voice—this wasn’t Shiori at all. It was someone completely different.
I was sleeping naked with some other woman?
The thought made me viscerally ill. I wanted to puke. I wanted to shove this woman away and angrily demand to know who she was.
Stay calm. Deep breaths. This isn’t my world, and I can’t dictate who my parallel selves can and can’t date…can I…? Hold on a minute. I mean, it’s still me I’m talking about. What the hell am I doing, sleeping with a girl who isn’t Shiori? Me, of all people! Doesn’t every me live solely for Shiori?!
I couldn’t think straight. I was too confused. I needed to just go back. Back to my world. And so, for the first time in years, I prayed. Hard.
Take me back. I can’t stay here. I’m serious. I refuse to accept that I could be with someone other than Shiori—!
And when I returned to my home world, I erased the incident from my memory.
✦ ✦ ✦
Yes, it was in a parallel world. In that world, there was a woman who called me Koyomi. She was in bed next to me, holding my hand, smiling at me… She was my lover. But I couldn’t accept a reality where I loved someone other than Shiori, so I went straight back to my world.
I doubt anyone in that world even realized what had happened, since the trip only lasted a minute or so, and the other me was asleep at the time. But there could be no mistake: when Takigawa-san called my name just now, it sounded identical to the voice I heard in that parallel world. That was where I first met her—in bed, in an alternate universe.
Unsure how to process this revelation, I fell silent, and as if in my place, Takigawa-san spoke up. “Likewise, you can call me Kazune.”
If I wanted her to call me by my first name, then it’d be weird not to return the favor, so I forced my weirdly dry mouth to cooperate. “Sure thing…Kazune.” Though it was my first time saying it aloud, the name felt right at home on my tongue. Now I really missed Shiori.
After that, Takigawa-san…er, Kazune and I ordered a few more drinks while we ate dinner. By the time we left the restaurant, she was plastered. She begged to go to karaoke, so I humored her for an hour or so, then decided to walk her home to make sure she didn’t fall face-first into any bushes.
On the way, we arrived at the Showa-dori intersection. The light changed, and we began to cross the street. At the other end was the spot where Shiori was stuck; I focused my mind, and she floated into view, the spitting image of her fourteen-year-old self.
“Oh, hi, Koyomi-kun!”
She beamed at me, and I waved slightly. Unfortunately, I was with Kazune at the moment. No matter how drunk she was, I couldn’t talk to an invisible ghost in front of her; I didn’t want her thinking I was weird. And of course, I couldn’t exactly ditch her in her current condition. With no other option, I decided I’d come back to the intersection after I took her home.
I hung back for a second and whispered, “Sit tight for a bit. I’ll be right back.”
Shiori nodded slightly…and then…
“Wait, you can see that too?” Kazune asked.
I stopped dead in my tracks and looked at her. Sure enough, she seemed to be looking at Shiori. Neither my dad nor the director was able to see her, but supposedly there was a small percentage of people who could. That was how the urban legend about the “crosswalk ghost” got started in the first place. And if Shiori counted as a ghost, then perhaps those few had a particularly strong sixth sense. Was Kazune one of them?
“You’re telling me you can see Shiori?!” I blurted out, flustered.
Her unfocused eyes sharpened until they were piercing me with their usual force. She had switched back to researcher mode.
“Shiori? That’s the ghost’s name? Do you know this ghost?”
What a careless mistake. I tried to think of how I could talk my way out of it, but there weren’t any good options. And my awkward silence was already as good as a yes.
“I…I asked her myself,” I forced out as a half-hearted excuse, but Kazune’s expression was too vague for me to tell whether or not she believed me.
“It’s a she?”
“Yeah, isn’t that obvious?”
“So you can see her clearly enough to approximate her gender?” she asked.
“What?”
“I can only see the fuzzy outline of a person on rare occasions,” Kazune explained. “I certainly can’t hear her voice. But you can both see her and speak to her? There has to be a connection. Don’t even try to tell me otherwise.”
Now I’d dug my own grave even deeper. Did she set me up? She’d have to be quite talented to pull off a stunt like that while under the influence.
“Start talking, mister. I advise you not to underestimate my curiosity,” she said with an unwavering glare.
I knew any excuse I tried to make would be ignored. Worst-case scenario, she might let something slip at the lab, in front of the other researchers. So what was my move? This was a serious decision.
Kazune was an extremely gifted colleague. From the beginning, I had considered telling her about my real research in order to gain her assistance… Maybe the time had simply come a little earlier than I expected. Could this be my chance?
I looked at Shiori, who looked from me to Kazune with eyes as wide as saucers.
“Shiori, is it okay if I…tell her?”
She gazed back at me for a few seconds, then nodded her head.
Summoning my resolve, I turned back to Kazune. Another factor in my decision was that if I brought her into the fold, I might be able to talk to Shiori more easily. After all, I looked like a psycho talking to “myself” on the street corner, but with a second person standing there, people would assume I was talking to her. It wasn’t like anyone would stop and eavesdrop.
“Okay, Kazune. This is important, so I need you to listen carefully.”
And so I told her about Shiori. Not everything, obviously. I left out most of the messy details and said the two of us were just friends. But I gave her the general gist of it all: my friend got hit by a car in a parallel world, tried to shift away, but her physical body died before it could complete, and as a result, her imaginary elements were left stuck in that spot—AKA imaginary karyomitosis.
“And I’ve been searching for a way to save her ever since.”
Once I finished, Kazune pressed a finger to her lip in contemplation. Whatever she was about to say, for better or for worse, it would likely change my opinion of her forever.