I shouldn’t be able to hear that…
The walls and ceiling of the underground room were reinforced to insulate it. That also meant it was almost completely soundproof, and you could barely hear anything going on outside.
Even so, Kuchina felt like she could hear that noise.
She covered her ears with her gloved hands.
“I can still hear it…”
She couldn’t escape. No matter where she went, it would keep following her.
Ever since I can remember—ever since I was born, I guess—I’ve been held captive by that man and locked inside a cage. This is where I belong…
Kuchina took her hands away from her ears. She couldn’t actually hear the bell-like ring of the telephone. It didn’t reach the basement. Yet it was ringing somewhere far away.
She set the notebook on the table and left the underground room empty-handed without even saying good-bye to her parents.
Brrrrring-brrrrrring-brrrrrrrring-brrrrrring…
Brrrrring-brrrrrring-brrrrrrrring-brrrrrring…
The phone was ringing.
Kuchina quickly went up the stairs.
Brrrrring-brrrrrring-brrrrrrrring-brrrrrring…
Brrrrring-brrrrrring-brrrrrrrring-brrrrrring…
She got to the top of the staircase. Kuchina looked at the living room, which had the lights on, and the adjoining kitchen.
Brrrrring-brrrrrring—
The ringing stopped.
Kuchina made her way to the kitchen. An old black rotary-dial telephone occupied a spot on the counter. It had been ringing until just a moment ago.
She grabbed the phone cable connecting it to the wall. Perhaps she should just pull it out. Tear it free. If she did that, the phone wouldn’t ring. She wouldn’t have to answer it or hear that man’s voice. She didn’t want to hear it. The timbre of his voice. That terribly slow way he spoke. The way he paused between words. His strangely tepid tone of voice.
“There’s one thing you should know.”
That was his pet phrase.
“There’s one thing you need to remember.”
She’d heard it over and over.
“There’s one thing it seems you don’t understand.”
Over, and over, and over.
“There’s one thing…”
“There’s one thing…”
“There’s one thing…”
“There’s one thing…”
There wasn’t just one thing, though. He’d already said that countless times. That man had an endless number of “one things” that had built up within Kuchina. Now that she thought about it, it seemed like that man had said everything was “one thing” at some point, or at least connected everything to one of his “one things.” Before she knew it, her head was full of them.
The black rotary-dial telephone shook and started ringing again.
Brrrrring-brrrrrring-brrrrrrrring-brrrrrring…
Brrrrring-brrrrrring-brrrrrrrring-brrrrrring…
Brrrrring-brrrrrring-brrrrrrrring-brrrrrring…
Brrrrring-brrrrrring-brrrrrrrring-brrrrrring…
“Why don’t you try making some friends at school?” her adoptive mother had said.
Kuchina had considered it.
“I can’t. It’s dangerous,” she had responded.
Because she’d been told by that man.
“There’s one thing you need to remember.
“You mustn’t even think about doing something like making friends. It’s dangerous. You understand that, don’t you?”
“That wasn’t me.”
Kuchina had bluntly rejected her mom’s suggestion. But it hadn’t been her idea.
“It wasn’t…”
It was that man.
Kuchina Hitsujimoto had been made by that man.
Brrrrring-brrrrrring-brrrrrrrring-brrrrrring…
Brrrrring-brrrrrring-brrrrrrrring-brrrrrring…
The ringing of the black rotary-dial telephone wouldn’t stop. Kuchina was still holding on tight to the phone cord. She should pull it out. Tearing it out would be difficult. Not impossible. Actually, it would be quite easy. But it was scary. She couldn’t go that far. Even though she could. No, she couldn’t. She should at least pull it out.
Brrrrring-brrrrrring-brrrrrrrring-brrrrrring…
Brrrrring-brrrrrring-brrrrrrrring-brrrrrring…
She wanted to make the ringing stop. She could do it if she wanted to. But what would it mean? If she continued ignoring the phone, what would that man do? Kuchina knew, of course. That man showed no mercy to those who disobeyed him. Kuchina had already learned that lesson. She’d lost her adoptive parents. They hadn’t been killed before being frozen. The cold was what killed them. That man had said it would be all right. He’d given his word. He’d told her, “Even though they’re frozen like this, that doesn’t mean they’re completely dead. They may look dead, and they’re in a state infinitesimally close to death, but they can still be revived. Don’t tell me you think I’m lying.”
“There’s one thing you should know.
“I also lie sometimes. As a way to succeed in life.
“However, although I might say I can’t do something when I actually can, that doesn’t work the same way in reverse. I never say that I can do something when I actually can’t.
“If I tell you I can do something, then I can.”
—That’s a lie.
Kuchina didn’t believe what that man said.
It’s definitely a lie.
Despite that, she couldn’t throw away the hope that her mom and dad might be able to come back to life.
Because that man said he can…
Brrrrring-brrrrrring—
The ringing stopped.
Kuchina let got of the phone cord. It was hard to breathe. Her chest felt tight. She clenched her teeth and inhaled through her nose. She had to brace her legs; otherwise, they’d go out from under her. Her vision blurred, and she felt like she was going to faint.
I’ve done something terrible.
She had ignored the phone. Twice.
“Argh…”
Possibly more than twice. The phone might have rung before that as well. Maybe it was three times or even more.
“It’s the diary’s…the exchange diary’s…”
Kuchina started coughing violently.
It’s the exchange diary’s fault. It was forced on me. I couldn’t make a normal decision. I have work today. That’s why the phone was ringing. I knew that, but I still…
There was something stuck in her throat.
Takarai. If I hadn’t met Sousei Takarai, this never would have happened…
“They are your friends, aren’t they?” her adoptive mother had asked with a smile in her eyes.
“You made some friends, Kuchina,” her father had said, grinning with his arms crossed as if he couldn’t contain his emotions.
“No.”
Kuchina seized the phone cord extending from the black rotary-dial telephone and yanked it out of the wall as hard as she could.
If the phone rings again… No, like this…
It didn’t solve the problem. Even Kuchina knew that much. The phone wouldn’t ring with the cord removed, but that man would still get mad at Kuchina for not answering it. He wasn’t the kind of man who outwardly showed his emotions. From the limitless number of that man’s “one things” buried within Kuchina, one raised its head.
“There’s one thing you should remember.
“I’m not mad. I’m not going to take my anger out on you. I’m just showing you what you did was wrong. You need to be able to make that distinction.”
Kuchina crouched by the wall and plugged the phone cord back in. She hadn’t answered it at least twice, possibly even more. She hadn’t wanted to answer it. She didn’t want to speak to that man. It would be better if he didn’t call her. She wished he wouldn’t call. Yet despite thinking that, Kuchina stood there with her hands on the kitchen counter staring at the phone. Waiting for it to ring. She wished it would hurry up. She wanted it to ring as soon as possible. She was waiting for it in anticipation. She would apologize to that man. She’d been in the basement, seeing her adoptive parents. It was an easy mistake to make. Would he forgive her if she gave that excuse? She had no clue. Regardless, she had to apologize. That man would probably drive another new “one thing” into Kuchina. It was a punishment. He might say he was going to dispose of her parents—two people who were important to her, who weren’t yet completely dead and who it was still possible to bring back to life. He might tell Kuchina she wasn’t allowed to go to school anymore. Even though she’d met Sousei Takarai and made friends. Even though they’d been about to start an exchange diary. No. They weren’t friends. She shouldn’t think of them as friends. After all, she couldn’t make friends. She shouldn’t be secretly hanging on to the letter from Sousei Takarai. She should dispose of it immediately. She needed to return the exchange diary. She might not be able to.
Kuchina was sweating. The air conditioner wasn’t on. The temperature in the house wasn’t much different from outside. She took a bottle of mineral water out of the fridge and a glass off the shelf, then poured herself about half a cup of water and drank it slowly. When she’d finished, she remembered another one of that man’s “one things.”
“There’s one thing you should know.
“You need to be careful you don’t get dehydrated. Even being just a little dehydrated can lead to decreased athletic and cognitive abilities. It can make you emotionally unstable and impair your ability to make calm judgments.”
Kuchina placed the empty glass in the sink. She glanced at the black rotary-dial telephone on top of the counter. It still hadn’t rung.
She heard the sound of the front door being unlocked. Someone had opened it and was coming inside.
The door closed. The person took their shoes off.
Kuchina waited. She considered taking her gloves off, but abandoned that idea. The person had appeared in the living room. It was a tall woman, at about five-seven. Her blond hair was cut in a bob, and she was wearing a jet-black dress. It looked like her natural hair, but it had likely been bleached and dyed. Despite her appearance, the look on her face was like that of a savage raccoon dog. Her lips were red, coated in lipstick reminiscent of the color of fresh blood.
She was wearing long black gloves and holding a bouquet of flowers. Kuchina wondered what kind of flowers they were. The white petals were shaped like teardrops.
“…Silence.” The woman stopped just in front of the kitchen and narrowed her eyes slightly. Kuchina silently looked back at her. The woman glanced at the black rotary-dial telephone. “The Great Lord is suspicious. Why didn’t you answer the phone?”
But rather than answering, Kuchina said the woman’s name.
“Ruran Hinoura.”
Although she’d just had a glass of water, the inside of her mouth was dry.
Ruran Hinoura licked her crimson lips a bit. Then she giggled. “Don’t think that someone like you is allowed to say my name, Silence.”
“What should I call you, then?”
“Call me Flame Empress, with fear and awe in your voice.”
“That’s a strange name.”
“Hold your tongue, Silence.” The smile didn’t leave Ruran’s face. What was so amusing? She probably wasn’t getting any pleasure out of this. She was that man’s attendant—or at least she acted like she was. She did that intentionally. Even if she didn’t know his true motives. She imitated the man. She was far more hotheaded than he was. If anything, she seemed to be an extremely emotional type of person but was forcing herself to act composed.
It’s all right.
She was much easier to deal with than that man.