Chapter 135

Chapter 3 April III 1 “Oh, Sou. What are you doing here?” Just as I was setting out from the bicycle parking at the apartments, someone called to me. It was my aunt Mayuko, the other Mrs. Akazawa. The tension around her eyes reminded me of Izumi’s expression the night before. She was staring at me from the porch off the front entrance of the building, making a slightly puzzled face. “You’re going to school now? By bicycle?” It was 10:30 in the morning. Even though class was starting late today because of the entrance ceremony, it was still too late to be leaving. On top of that, I lived close enough to walk there, and the rules forbade commuting by bike anyway. Hence, it was only natural for Mayuko to be suspicious. “Izumi left a long time ago. What’s going on?” “Oh, um…” I mumbled some noncommittal noises from astride my bicycle. After finishing breakfast at the Akazawa house, I’d gone back up to my room to kill some time and change out of my uniform and into my normal clothes. It should have been very obvious that I was not, in fact, heading to class at all. “Today I’m a little, ummm…under the weather. Izumi is going to let the teachers know for me.” “Oh, you’re not well?” “Yeah, just a little… Oh, but I seem to be improving already, so I thought I might go to the bookstore or something.” “Oh?” Despite her slight frown, Mayuko didn’t ask me any more questions. Instead, she simply told me, “Be careful and have a good time,” and smiled faintly. “Um…would you mind keeping this a secret from Auntie Sayuri?” “Hmm? Why?” “I would feel bad about making her anxious. The main residence is going through a lot right now.” Hiromune Akazawa, the family patriarch who lived in the house with his oldest son and his wife, had been in poor health since the end of last year. Because of his situation, they were renovating the old house to make it more accessible. The construction work had also spurred my temporary move into the Freuden Tobii. “You don’t have to be that considerate…” Mayuko stopped whatever she was about to say next, then glanced over her shoulder at the doors into the building. “By the way, Sou?” She came up beside me and lowered her voice. “You’re in the same class with Izumi this year, right?” “Uh, yes.” “Is there some kind of, um, special problem going on there?” “Ah…” My hands, gripping the handles of my bike, were suddenly sweaty. “Why…do you ask?” “I can sort of…tell.” We weren’t supposed to reveal too much about the situation at school, even to our families. That was one of the “rules,” and I was sure that she—Izumi Akazawa—was faithfully upholding them. Nevertheless, Mayuko must have sensed that something was amiss in the way her daughter was speaking and behaving…right? But unfortunately, I was in the same boat and also wasn’t at liberty to talk about the situation. Not to Auntie Sayuri or Uncle Haruhiko, either. In fact, I hadn’t said a word about the “phenomenon” or the “accidents” to them. To say nothing of the fact that I had to play the role of a “non-exister” in class as a “countermeasure” against it all… As far as I was concerned, I had no intention of speaking about any of that, even if it didn’t risk inviting supernatural retaliation. The Akazawas weren’t my real parents, so if I brought up the situation, it would inevitably make them even more anxious about me than they already were… “There’s not really anything going on,” I answered, trying to feign impassivity. “Yesterday was just the opening ceremony anyway.” “Are you sure?” Mayuko asked, looking yet more concerned. “Listen, you probably haven’t heard, Sou, but there have apparently been some pretty bad rumors going around about Grade 3 Class 3 at North Yomi for a long time.” Ah, I get it. She’s been picking up on them. “What kind of things have been getting around?” I tried to probe for more. “How do I put it…? I heard that the class has a lot of dangerous accidents and incidents. And sure enough, three years ago, there were all sorts of…” She put her palm to her forehead and pressed a thumb to her temple. After holding that pose in silence for a while, she finally shook her head slowly and lowered her hand. “…Oh, I feel sort of strange. Sorry. Don’t worry about me.” But a shadow of some terrible loneliness and sadness had fallen across her face. “I’ll keep quiet about today to Sayuri. But I don’t want you to worry so much, okay? It’s not good for you.” Mayuko smiled faintly again and ran a hand through her shoulder-length hair. It was shockingly white for her age—she was only in her mid-forties, so much younger than her sister-in-law Sayuri. “You should come up to our place for a bite to eat sometimes. I’m sure that Natsuhiko and…Izumi would also be happy to see you. Okay?” 2 I wasn’t riding my bike to school, and I wasn’t headed for a bookstore, either—I was going to the library. Specifically, the public library in the nearby neighborhood of Romero, which sat on the grounds of a public park known as Daybreak Forest. When I’d lived in Hinami, I had access to the library at Lakeshore Manor, so I never wanted for reading material. Not only had its shelves been lined with children’s manga and novels, but I could get recommendations from Uncle Teruya or go digging on my own. Because of that, I’d ended up reading tons of books that were maybe a little too challenging for an elementary schooler. That’s how I came to the hobby, and nothing much had changed since my move to Yomiyama. I regularly frequented public libraries. When I’d first started middle school, I primarily made use of the school library, but it had become insufficient over time. Today, as usual, I returned a number of volumes that I had borrowed and checked out a few new ones. Now that the school entrance ceremony was complete, normal classes would begin the next day. Naturally, as a “non-exister,” I couldn’t talk to anyone if I attended, so I would be spending a lot of time alone. I figured it would be essential to go ahead and get some books I hadn’t read. My errand finished, I left my bike parked in front of the library and wandered through the park alone. It was fine weather, more springlike than the day before, and there was no wind. The warm sunshine felt nice. It was early afternoon on a weekday. Throughout the largely deserted park, I spotted elderly people sitting here and there on benches, their backs rounded. I could also see a few mothers taking walks with babies in colorful strollers… I reflexively averted my eyes from the women pushing their strollers. Whether I wanted to remember or not, looking at them made me recall the face of my own mother, Tsukiho, who lived far away from here…but I didn’t pity myself or feel overly sentimental. Three summers ago, she had chosen to protect her present and future as “Mrs. Hiratsuka” by sending away the son who she feared could threaten that life. That was not difficult to understand. I didn’t think she was an awful mother. Rather, I now saw that she was a weak woman. I couldn’t do anything about that. And so… I wasn’t particularly hurt by it. I walked through the promenade in the center of Daybreak Forest Park, lined on both sides with splendid cherry trees in full bloom. When I emerged on the other end, I could make out Yumigaoka Mountain in the distance. It was the highest point of the mountain ridge, which sat along the east side of town. Turning my gaze to an adjoining hill, I spied a familiar building—Yumigaoka Municipal Hospital. The thin, wispy clouds floating against the background of a broad blue sky and the straight lines that made up the hospital building—the combination was kind of interesting. I formed an imaginary viewfinder with my thumbs and forefingers, then snapped the imaginary shutter. Just then, cherry blossoms came twirling into the frame, fluttering down across the shot and grazing my lens. I narrowed my eyes, stretched as hard as I could, and stared up at the sky high above me. As long as I can spend my days like this… It was a peaceful, unblemished spring afternoon. I wish this would go on forever. Tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, I’m not going to school. I bet that’s probably the best way to make sure that the “countermeasures” take effect. It’s not much trouble for me to be alone. I’m sure that I have the most experience in that realm, more than any of my classmates. Yeah, I’ll just stay like this… The next moment, my cell phone began vibrating in my jacket pocket. Who can that be? Yagisawa again? I guess class must be over for the day already. I looked at the display, expecting something like that, and found myself unintentionally sucking in breath. The name of the caller on the screen was “Tsukiho.” A call from her? Now? I felt conflicted. In the end, I ignored this call from my mother. —So you’re a third-year already, Sou? Mirei is, too. A third-year in elementary school. When I listened to my voice mail after she hung up, this was the message she had left: —Sayuri said you’re doing well. Ummm…oh, are you going to the clinic like you’re supposed to? Uhhh…do you have enough spending money? If you need more, just tell me. I’d like to come visit if I have the opportunity, too… Once every month or two, she called me like this, as if she had just remembered that I existed. Speaking timidly in a frail voice, her calls were always the same. And then at the end, she would always finish with the exact same line. —I’m sorry, Sou. Ah, you don’t really have to… I don’t want you to apologize. Although I was only a fourteen-year-old junior high student, still a child in the world’s eyes, I had a pretty clear picture of the sort of “grown-up problems” that she was facing. I’d been pretty upset back when she’d first sent me away from home, but now, more than two years later, I was no longer interested in blaming anyone. And yet— “Man…forget this…” As I stuck my cell phone back in my pocket, I glanced up again at the outline of the hospital on Yumigaoka. The “clinic” that Tsukiho had mentioned was in that building—officially, the Yomiyama Municipal Hospital Psychoneurological Department. I’d been going there regularly for counseling ever since my arrival. Come to think of it, this coming Saturday is my next appointment, I think. I didn’t dislike my attending physician, Dr. Usui. I even trusted him to a certain extent. But…recently, I hadn’t exactly been feeling much of a need to go. Maybe I’ll make up an excuse and skip this time… 3 “Sounds like the renovations on the house are really going to get underway next week,” I said. “I imagine they’ll do most of the work during the day, when I’ll be at school. So I feel kind of bad that your folks went out of their way to set me up with this apartment. They said it was important, considering I’ve got high school entrance exams coming up, but still, somehow I can’t help but feel guilty…” “Oh? I don’t think you need to be that worried about it,” Izumi replied. “What do you mean?” “The place is gonna be a mess during the construction. Plus, there’s everything that’s going on with Grandpa,” Izumi explained. “Well, that’s—” “He always was a stubborn guy, but he’s getting harder and harder to please these days… Mama says so, too. And with his body in that bad of shape, it would be all sorts of difficult to live with him.” “That’s… Well, yeah.” “And hey, having you take refuge up here for the time being is easier on Auntie Sayuri, too. It has to give her peace of mind.” “I wonder.” “This room was empty anyhow. And Mama was all for it.” That night, I was chatting with Izumi Akazawa. After dinner, I’d gone back to my apartment, and then she showed up at my door a little after eight. She’d come to deliver a report on the state of Grade 3 Class 3 earlier that day. Izumi was dressed casually, as she had been the night before, and stepped into my apartment without hesitation. Standing across from me at the living room table, she pushed a can of oolong tea into my hands. “Delivery.” Then she set a sturdy paper bag that she’d brought with her on the table and plopped down in a chair. “This is a complete set of your new textbooks. And I stuck your class schedule for the first semester in there, too.” When she told me that, I unconsciously let out a small noise of surprise. “Ah…” It was the start of a new semester, so obviously the students would be receiving new textbooks. And since classes started the next day, there would be a schedule, too. And yet, all of these commonsense things had completely slipped my mind. I had been trying to conduct myself with as much composure as possible and without any mistakes, preoccupied with the special circumstances of our class. “Thanks for going to the trouble.” I thanked her earnestly. Izumi answered with a short, “Sure!” and then immediately launched into her report. “After the entrance ceremony, we had a long homeroom just like every year and chose class reps and officers and stuff. A boy named Yagisawa and a girl named Tsugunaga got picked as the representatives.” “Yagisawa is a rep?” Somehow, I wasn’t expecting that. With his long, unruly hair and round, tinted glasses, Yagisawa had quite an eccentric look for a middle schooler; he didn’t seem like the class representative type at all. Indeed, during first and second year, not a single person had endorsed him for the position, and yet…why now? It was a total enigma to me, but Izumi’s explanation readily revealed the answer. “Yagisawa put himself in the running. And there weren’t any opposing candidates or any objections to his eligibility.” But why did he volunteer in the first place? I’ll have to unearth his real motives later. “Let’s see, and that girl, Tsugunaga, she’s…” “Tomoko Tsugunaga,” Izumi clarified. “Is it your first time in the same class with her?” “It is.” I nodded. “It’s mine, too, but she’s serious, speaks clearly, and seems attentive to small details… All in all, I think she’s not a bad person to have in charge. She’s the type I would want for countermeasures officer.” Izumi opened the pull top on the oolong tea she had brought for herself and took a huge swig. “Yagisawa is a friend of yours, right, Sou?” “I guess. We’ve been in the same class ever since our first year.” Also… I was about to continue, but I stopped myself this time. Somehow, I felt like explaining further would be a pain. The thought of it just bummed me out. “The atmosphere in the classroom was tense and nervous, as you’d expect,” Izumi told me, dropping the tone of her voice a little. “Once I start attending tomorrow, I’m sure everyone will be even more anxious, huh?” “I mean, it is everyone’s first experience with this. It seems like there are still some students who just don’t believe it or can’t bring themselves to believe it’s happening.” “I guess that’s probably also unavoidable.” “But the thing is, in order for the ‘countermeasures’ to be successful, we need everyone’s cooperation,” Izumi said, eyes flashing. “They can choose to take stock in it or not, but we need to get everyone to be diligent about following the ‘rules.’” “How’s Hazumi?” I asked, suddenly concerned. “Did she go to school today?” “She wasn’t in the classroom, no.” After responding, Izumi immediately continued. “But I saw her by the gate to campus on my way home.” “Hazumi?” “Yeah. Apparently, she skipped the entrance ceremony and homeroom, then waited there until the end of class. She also picked up her textbooks from a friend who brought them out to her.” “Oh, really?” “And it sounded like she stood there chatting with that friend about this and that for a while… She was outside the grounds, so it’s not a violation of the guidelines.” “No, it sure isn’t.” But considering the potential risks, it’s probably not the most responsible course of action, either, I thought, anxious. From the way she was speaking, I could tell that Izumi also felt the same sense of danger. “I spoke to her, too, you know, back there,” Izumi told me. “To Hazumi? About what?” “About you, Sou.” “Me?” “She asked to confirm that you hadn’t gone to school today.” “Hmm?” “That was the first time she and I had ever exchanged words, but the fact that she went out of her way to ask me must mean she thought I was someone who was close to you, right?” “Probably.” Recalling the way Hazumi had been acting the day before, I nodded. “She saw that my address was listed ‘in care of Akazawa’ on the class roster and seemed pretty concerned about it.” “I explained everything to her. I told her we lived close by and were cousins. She also seemed worried about how you would get your textbooks, so I assured her that I would bring them to you.” As I sat there talking face-to-face with Izumi, I got the sense that we were more like siblings than cousins. And even though we were the same age, I had an overwhelming feeling that she was my older sister…but I’m sure that was thanks to her personality and disposition, along with the strange circumstances we’d found ourselves in. Though not particularly headstrong, Izumi was a fast thinker, and she had the physical dexterity to match the quickness of her mind. As for me, no matter how deliberately I endeavored to do things, they just didn’t turn out how I wanted. After that, my conversation with Izumi turned away from school issues and switched over to what was going on with the Akazawa family. From there, we circled around to the matter of my retreat to the new apartment. “I know that you’re always considering the needs of others, but you ought to let Auntie Sayuri and Uncle Haruhiko do a little bit more to take care of you.” Even with her telling me so directly, it wasn’t like I could just cheerfully agree. It was I who was most vividly aware of the irregularity of the events that had led to my stay with the Akazawa family, after all. “Auntie and Uncle were really happy when you came to stay with them, you know. Mama told me.” But still… “They were pleased? Why?” “You know. Auntie and Uncle had two daughters, but both of them got married and left home as soon as they were grown. And they both moved really far away, too.” Of course. I had heard this story before. The older daughter married an employee of a famous trading company and, if I remembered correctly, was currently living in New York. Meanwhile, the younger daughter got together with a marine biologist she met in college, and they’d made their home in Okinawa. “So you see.” Izumi’s gaze suddenly softened. “When the family settled on you coming here, they felt like they were getting a new son. Regardless of the circumstances that brought you here, they’re really happy to have you.” “Is that…so…?” Even with her explaining it to me, I still didn’t think I could take it all seriously. Whether or not she knew my inner feelings, Izumi took another big swig of her oolong tea, then let out a little sigh. “There’s not much chance of any of the Akazawa children staying in this town or ever coming back, you know. Even me—if I go to college, I’m thinking of moving to Tokyo.” I listened to her describe this to me in a slightly despondent tone of voice—and then I remembered something. Izumi had a brother who was much older than she was. Come to think of it, he’s also… “Was it Germany, where your brother went? He’s been there a long time, hasn’t he?” “Mm. Yeah.” Izumi nodded, her expression becoming somewhat sullen this time. “He went to study abroad halfway through college and totally settled down there. He hardly ever comes back here. But despite how little he cares about us, Papa and Mama still think he’s something special. I mean, just look at the name of these apartments.” “The apartments…you mean ‘Freuden Tobii’?” “It’s German, ‘Freuden.’ It means ‘happiness.’” “Your brother named the building?” “That’s right.” “Ah, I see.” Just then, I remembered something and got up from the table. I went into the bathroom and retrieved the shampoo I had borrowed the night before. “Thanks for this,” I said. “I brought my own up today, so I won’t need it again.” But at that moment, Izumi seemed preoccupied with something else. “Oh, sure.” As she gave a half-hearted reply, she suddenly raised her right arm and pointed to the bookshelf along the wall. “That’s…” She was staring at the thing sitting on the center of one shelf. It was a photo in a simple wooden picture frame. “That picture…” It was an old color photograph taken fourteen years ago, during the summer of 1987. “The man pictured there, by any chance, would he be…Teruya Sakaki?” “That’s right,” I answered, taking a deep breath. “He was my uncle on my mother’s side. He died three years ago this spring, but…” I wonder how much Izumi knows? I thought. First of all, is she aware of why I had to leave the Hiratsukas and enter the care of the Akazawas three years ago? How much does she know about the series of incidents at Lakeshore Manor that caused all that…? “I’ve heard about Mr. Sakaki from Mama. That he was your mom’s little brother and that you really looked up to him… She told me that he passed away three years ago, which really shocked you.” “Mm.” I slowly walked over to the bookshelf and picked up the picture in question. The date in the corner of the photograph read: 8/3/1987. Written on the frame was the caption: “The last summer of middle school!” The image had probably been taken on the shore of Lake Minazuki. There were five boys and girls in the picture, and standing there smiling on the right side was Teruya, just fifteen at the time… After what happened three years ago, I’d taken the picture from his library at Lakeshore Manor but hadn’t wanted to keep it near me… So without warning, I sent it to her—to Mei Misaki. But before long, she returned it to me. “You’re really the one who should hang on to this,” she’d insisted. “This is Teruya,” I remarked, pointing to the boy on the right as Izumi stared at the photograph. “The other four are his friends, and they were all in Grade 3 Class 3 at North Yomi that year.” “And that was…1987?” I could tell that Izumi was surprised simply by the tone of voice in her response. “1987 was an ‘on year,’ and they hadn’t figured out an effective ‘countermeasure’ yet. So during summer break, they all escaped Yomiyama and went to the house in Hinami…” I was pretty sure this was the first time I’d told this story to anyone other than Mei Misaki. I second-guessed myself but then concluded I was right—I hadn’t even told Yagisawa in this much detail. Realizing this, I observed Izumi’s profile as she peered at the photo. Her lips were drawn, frowning slightly. She was staring at the picture intensely, as though she were devouring it with her eyes. A faintly sweet-and-sour scent wafted from her soft hair, which was tied up in a ponytail. The same scent as the shampoo I’d borrowed. “I’ve heard of the ‘tragedy of ’87,’” she told me, pulling her gaze away from the photo. “The Grade 3 Class 3 bus had an accident during their field trip, which resulted in a ton of casualties. Is that when Mr. Sakaki and his friends…?” I nodded silently, then returned the frame to its place. Frankly, I just didn’t want to talk about it anymore right now. Izumi must have sensed how I was feeling, because she pulled away from my side without repeating her question. Placing both her hands on the table, she glanced around the small apartment. Suddenly, she asked, “Isn’t this place a little barren?” “Ah? I guess it is.” “I think you should have at least a refrigerator and a TV.” “No, I don’t need either.” Completely ignoring my response, she continued. “There’s a mini fridge in my brother’s room, so you can bring it down from upstairs. And I think there’s an extra TV there, too.” “Wait, I said I don’t—” “You don’t have to be shy, okay?” “Hmm…” “Also…” The next thing Izumi laid her eyes on was the pile of books beside my PC on the table. I’d just borrowed all of them from the library that day. “Mm-hmm. So you’re a regular at the library in Daybreak Forest, huh?” Sternly folding her arms across her chest, she brought her face close to the volumes and read their titles. “If you like this type of book, there are a ton of them in my brother’s room,” she informed me, a slightly amused smile spreading across her lips. “Come look sometime. If there’s anything you want to read, it’ll be faster than getting it from the library.” “Oh, sure. But…” “It’s fine, it’s fine. My brother almost never comes home anyway. It’s totally cool for you to take whatever you want.” 4 It was the morning of April 11, a Wednesday. Regular classes began that day. I arrived at the standard start time, entered the classroom, and took my seat at the rearmost desk in the row closest to the hallway. Yuika Hazumi, the other person assuming the role of “non-exister,” was in the rearmost seat of the row closest to the window, which overlooked the school grounds. The two positions had been assigned well in advance for the “non-existers.” Moreover, there was something different about the desks and chairs in these two places—they were a different model than the others, both extremely old. These pieces of furniture had been carried over from the Grade 3 Class 3 classroom on the second floor of the old school building, which was now referred to as “Building Zero.” The desks and chairs for the “non-existers” needed to come from the old school building—this “rule” had been in effect ever since the implementation of the current “countermeasures.” In accordance with this stipulation, the countermeasures officers had brought over two sets of furniture, one more than in a normal year. The desks were all carved up. It was clear that they had been used by all sorts of students over dozens upon dozens of years. They were lined with traces of graffiti that had been scratched out and some that hadn’t been fully erased… The desk’s surface was also pitted here and there, which made it difficult to use without putting a desk pad under your paper first. As a matter of course, I didn’t say a single word to any of my classmates both before and after taking a seat, and I also tried not to make eye contact with them, either. Not with the students whose names I didn’t quite know yet or Yagisawa, who I’d been close with ever since our first year, or even with Izumi, who I’d just seen earlier this morning in the entrance hall of our apartment building… I didn’t look at anyone. To completely transform into a “non-exister,” I would have to conduct myself with a constant awareness that I was invisible to everyone around me. I mulled over what I’d said to Hazumi the day before yesterday. “To put it another way, you have to become sort of like a ghost yourself. Can you do that?” I can do it, I thought. It’s something I can do, something I will do. But— A tinge of anxiety flashed across my mind. What about her? How will Hazumi handle it? Just before the teachers came in and the first-period Japanese language class started, I glanced over quickly at her window-side seat. She had an elbow on her desk and was looking up at the teacher’s podium, but she must have sensed my gaze, for she suddenly turned toward me. Silently averting my eyes, I opened the textbook in my hands. 5 Morning classes ended without incident. There was none of the usual “stand up, bow, sit down” routine. And when the teachers took attendance before the start of each class, they avoided calling role (so that they wouldn’t speak the names of the “non-existers”). Likewise, they never called on the “non-existers” during class. All the teachers seemed to be fully cognizant of the situation. During the breaks between classes, I passed the time reading a book I had brought with me. Today I had John Dickson Carr’s The Hollow Man, a very old mystery novel. I preferred books like this over the horror novels that Mei Misaki’s friend Koichi Sakakibara had recommended to me. Almost all novels in the horror genre tend to invoke supernatural fear and danger—the story focuses on some demon or monster, and ghosts are especially common. No matter how I tried to get into them, I seemed to have some kind of resistance against those themes. That feeling extended to movies as well. When I was first starting middle school, I’d tried watching a few famous horror flicks, also at Koichi Sakakibara’s recommendation. But they hadn’t been a good match for me. It was very clear that I wasn’t going to grow to love them like Koichi did. As with novels, I honestly just couldn’t enjoy stories about demons and monsters and ghosts, no matter how often I reminded myself they were fictional. I preferred mysteries. Especially classic detective tales, like those by John Carr, Agatha Christie, and Ellery Queen. Because no matter how inexplicable or nightmarish the events that occurred between their pages, in the end, all those books’ puzzles are solved through logic and reason. The world of the mystery novel is predicated on the principle that supernatural and unscientific beings like demons, monsters, and ghosts don’t exist at all. I’m sure that my preference for these kinds of works came from some sort of rebellion or reaction against the strange world I’d confronted every day for years; they were like a coping mechanism. Fourth period that day was science class with our homeroom teacher, Ms. Kanbayashi, and the atmosphere in the room during that hour seemed several degrees tenser than during any other course. I don’t think it was my imagination. The teacher herself was a “member” of Grade 3 Class 3 and carried the risk of being struck by the “calamity” if the worst was to come to pass, so… Ms. Kanbayashi was very thorough when it came to ignoring Hazumi and me, the “non-existers.” From the time she entered the classroom until the time she left, she didn’t even look our way once. When the bell rang, signaling the end of class, I saw a look of relief pass clearly across her face. During lunch, I left the classroom alone and went up to the roof. I figured it was better to eat my lunch where none of my classmates was present. That had been my intention anyway, but as I settled down in a corner of the dreary rooftop and opened the lunch box that Auntie Sayuri had made for me… “Ah, here you are!” To my surprise, I heard a voice, and my hands came to a halt. The voice had come from none other than Hazumi. “You’re eating your lunch here, Sou? Can I join you?” Whenever I had gotten anxious and looked over to check on her during morning classes, Hazumi had shot me a glance like she’d wanted to say something to me, so…that didn’t seem like a good sign. I should have expected that she would approach me during our break. Kaah… Just then, a crow cawed somewhere. I looked up at the sky, then brought my gaze back down but didn’t direct it toward her. Instead, I silently shook my head right to left. “Huh? Huh?” She responded with surprise. Ignoring her, I stood up and hurriedly left the roof. “Why…? Sou!” Though I heard her words of confusion, I didn’t turn around. I simply remarked, “Fifth period is PE, so I think I’ll skip it and leave school.” I was speaking only to myself, but I think she overheard me. 6 “You could have mentioned that a little earlier!” This time I met Hazumi’s gaze straight on as I told her, “Even though we’re both ‘non-existers,’ I don’t think we can actually speak to each other normally at school.” It was the middle of fifth period—gym class. We were currently off campus, in a neighborhood of Yomiyama that was a several minutes’ walk from the back gate. Hazumi had followed me when I’d left school. Normally, leaving before classes were over was a violation of school rules, but as “non-existers,” we got special treatment. Even if a teacher had discovered us, we wouldn’t have been punished. “Why is that?” Hazumi asked reluctantly. “It’s fine, since we’re both ‘non-existers,’ right? C’mon—we’re a team. No one in class seems to mind, do they?” “That’s one way to look at it, but—” I narrowed my eyes and chose my next words slowly. “I can imagine an alternative.” “Which is?” “I’ve got a hunch that we need to be strict about being ‘non-existers,’ okay? We don’t know how it turned out three years ago when they tried adding another ‘non-exister,’ so…well, that’s why I have my suspicions.” “……” “Sure, both of us are on the same ‘team’ in the sense that we both bear the burden of the same duty, but does that mean we can acknowledge each other and act like we ‘exist’? Don’t you think that ‘non-existers’ should be invisible even to each other?” “……” Hazumi frowned and tilted her head. “This is gonna get a little complicated, but think about it. ‘Non-existers’ shouldn’t make their presence known to anyone, whether it’s ‘non-exister A’ not existing to ‘non-exister B’ or the other way around. And they should act accordingly during school, right? At least that’s what I think. So…” I couldn’t tell whether it was taking her a while to understand what I was saying or if it was taking her a while to react. Then, after several moments of silence: “No way…,” she murmured. “But I came up there just to find you…” Her voice was stiff, as was her expression. She looks like she might burst into tears at any second… What am I supposed to do if she does? It’s not like I said I hate her or something. I knew I should have been clearer about this the other day. Even as I lamented my oversight, I continued. “So you see, you shouldn’t speak to me in school, and we should try to avoid doing things together while we’re there. I think that’s best—or at least, I think that’s safest.” “……” “So that means you need to act the part of the ‘non-exister’ on your own. I’m sure it will be difficult, but…you get it, right?” Hazumi didn’t answer me; she just rocked her head back and forth. It was an ambiguous movement, which didn’t quite signify “yes” or “no.” I shifted my gaze to the flow of the Yomiyama River. Beneath the shade, the cherry blossoms on the trees lining the opposite bank looked sickly pale. “Hey, Sou?” Hazumi opened her mouth to speak. “Listen, I—” Interrupting whatever she was about to say, I announced, “I’m heading back to school,” then turned on my heel. “The road ahead is long. And now that we’ve started down it, there’s no going back.” Just as I was about to leave, I remembered something, stopped, then turned around. I suggested that we exchange cell phone numbers. That seemed to soften her expression a bit. “If we have any problems or anything, we can contact each other,” I told her, “but not during school.” This time, I didn’t forget to add a warning. 7 “I spoke with Morishita yesterday,” said Shunsuke Kouda as he took his glasses off and wiped dirt from the thick lenses. “I told him that we’ve missed him at biology club lately. It doesn’t sound like he wants to quit. I didn’t ask for specifics, but apparently, he’s got something going on at home.” Morishita and I had been acquainted since our first year, as fellow members of the biology club. But come to think of it, I had never heard him speak about his family, what his parents did for work, or anything like that. He doesn’t talk about his home life—does he not want to? Well, that’s the same for me, I guess. “So that means that you don’t have to worry about running into anyone from Class 3 there, you know. You can let loose about all the things you can’t say during regular school hours.” “I don’t really need a conversation buddy, though.” “Hold on now—don’t say that!” Shunsuke put his glasses back on. “If you don’t come, soon we’ll be overrun with specimens.” He glanced around the room and grinned. Although he’d been joking, I forced my face into a sour expression and scowled back. It was after school, and we were in the biology club room. When sixth period ended, I’d gotten a text from him reading, “Come to the clubroom.” I’d understood that to mean that Morishita wasn’t coming, at least for today—that’s why Shunsuke was summoning me. The North Yomi biology club used to borrow the cooking club’s room, which was located in the specialty classrooms building (commonly referred to as Building T), once a week. It was a tiny group that barely kept up its activities. Several years ago, the biology club’s new faculty adviser, Mr. Kuramochi, had pressured the school into securing it a new room. But considering that the group only had two or three members from each grade even now, nothing had changed about its “puny” status. The new clubroom was on the first floor of Building Zero, the old school building. The second floor, which was lined with old classrooms, hadn’t been used at all for a long time. Most of the structure was off-limits, but some sections of the first floor still saw use. There was the secondary library, where the aforementioned Mr. Chibiki worked, and the art room, plus some remaining percentage of rooms that had been allocated to various cultural clubs. The current “master” of the biology club room was one Shunsuke Kouda. Though he’d only become the head of the club this past April, in practice, he’d been its leader ever since the start of our second year. None of the upperclassmen had complained about that, and Mr. Kuramochi seemed to acknowledge his authority. Shunsuke had a slender face and wore silver-rimmed glasses with thick lenses. He had a small build but was sturdier than you would expect. On the other hand, his younger twin brother, Keisuke, who was in Class 3, didn’t wear glasses and used contact lenses to correct his nearsightedness. And he was in the tennis club. I wondered why they were so different despite being twins, but when you examined their features, they really did resemble each other, so I was grateful to have the presence or absence of glasses to help me tell them apart. “Is today your first time talking to someone at school, by any chance?” Shunsuke asked. I nodded. If you don’t count my conversation with Hazumi during fifth period, that is, I thought. “Do you think you can keep it up day after day? Seems bad for your health.” “Nope, I’m fine in that respect,” I replied. “Even if it doesn’t take a toll on your body, it can’t be great for your mental well-being.” “I wonder…” “I’m usually in here during lunch, so you can come hang out if you get lonely,” Shunsuke insisted. “Ah…okay.” “That said, I’ve heard the basics from Keisuke, but this problem with Class 3…just how serious is everyone about it?” “One hundred percent serious.” “Keisuke seems about half convinced, though.” “We might not be able to change his feelings on it, but listen, it’s real. This isn’t some silly story like the Seven Mysteries or whatever. For the past twenty-eight years, a great number of ‘related individuals’ have actually died because of this thing. And unless our ‘countermeasures’ are effective, people will die every month this year, too.” “What an awful burden.” He frowned. “And so you’ve taken on the responsibility of being the key to those ‘countermeasures’?” “Mm-hmm.” “Hmm. Well, if the worst happens to you, I’ll scoop up your remains and put you with the rest of the specimens, okay, Sou?” joked Shunsuke as he gestured around the classroom. The room was about half the usual size and was lined with all manner of tanks and cages. The adviser, Mr. Kuramochi, had limited North Yomiyama biology club activities to “breeding and observation.” That translated to us keeping all sorts of creatures in these tanks and cages. From water fleas and flatworms to varieties of fish, amphibians, and reptiles. We also kept all sorts of bugs. As for mammals, we currently had two hamsters. It was safe to say that Shunsuke was taking care of all of them basically on his own at the moment. There were ostensibly other students on duty for feeding and other tasks, but he would be alongside them without fail, helping out and giving instructions. He was this room’s “master” in that sense, too. “By the way, I’ve got some sad news. That’s also why I called you down here,” he remarked. I cocked my head. “The horrible truth is, little Woo has passed away.” “Huh, he did?” “I think it happened this afternoon. He was still moving around during lunch.” “Woo” wasn’t the name of a piglet or some giant monster from an old SFX drama. No, he was an axolotl (male, approximately four years old) that we had been keeping here. Axolotls were a variety of salamander that had been very popular for a while, which were also called wooper loopers in Japan. We hadn’t been responsible for giving him such a basic name. Rather, one of the upperclassmen in the biology club who’d graduated last year had been keeping Woo at his house and left him with us as a “parting gift.” At that point, the name had already stuck. And today, Woo was dead. Though he didn’t look any different than when we’d first come to take a peek at him during spring break. “They say wooper loopers are supposed to live about five to eight years, so he passed a little early,” Shunsuke remarked, staring at the tank by the window where we’d kept the axolotl. When I glanced over, I could see that it was already empty. “What caused it?” “Not sure. I don’t think we made any mistakes in caring for him.” “Huh…” “So then,” Shunsuke continued, “I’m thinking of turning his remains into a transparent skeletal specimen. What do you think?” You went out of your way to call me here and then ask that? “I’m against it,” I answered immediately. “I knew you would say that. But it’s rare to see a diaphanized wooper looper.” “Doesn’t matter—I’m opposed.” “In that case, since I hear they’re used for food in their original home, how about frying him up and letting everyone have a taste?” “Absolutely not.” “Good grief!” Shunsuke grinned, throwing up his hands. “Guess I have no choice. I’ll preserve the next one.” “I’ll allow a fish.” I walked over to the empty tank, and Shunsuke pulled Woo’s corpse out of the refrigerator. He was in a glass container, covered with plastic wrap. Oh yeah. If you don’t do this with animal corpses, they start to rot right away. Woo was a beautiful golden specimen, about twenty centimeters long. Even in death, his round black eyes bore the same blank expression as always. Shunsuke held the container out to me wordlessly, and I accepted it with equal silence. By no means were we on bad terms, but as members of the biology club, he and I had one major point of opposition: the question of what to do with animals that died in our care. Shunsuke wanted to turn anything that expired into a transparent specimen, whether it was one of the hamsters, for example, or a rabbit or small bird, which we had none of at the moment. I was completely against the idea (though I didn’t say anything about insects or fish) and wanted to bury the deceased in the ground. I understood that his interests lay in furthering the study of biology, so it wasn’t like I was constantly pushing my opinion on the matter, but… For today, however, even if the deceased had been something like the Chinese red-headed centipede that we’d captured in this room last year, I probably wouldn’t have felt like giving him the go-ahead. Rather than a matter of policy, this was mostly a question of mood. My opinion was colored by my current circumstances, since I was part of the class that was somehow “closer to death.” With Shunsuke accompanying me, I went out into the courtyard and walked around to the area beneath the window to the biology club classroom. There, with Mr. Kuramochi’s permission, I had made a cemetery for certain creatures. Rows of modest wooden crosses marked the graves of the many tiny corpses we’d buried there so far. I buried Woo’s body in the ground and piled some small stones to mark the spot. I would have to make another grave marker and put it up soon. I pressed my hands together lightly and prayed for his happiness in the next world. Rest in peace. And— Please don’t get caught up in the “phenomenon” and return to this world, even if we mess up. 8 That day, I ended up walking home from school with Shunsuke Kouda. I wanted to stop in at the secondary library and speak with Mr. Chibiki, but the door was locked and had a CLOSED sign hanging on it. Later, I would learn that he was on leave for the whole month of April, for “personal reasons,” and that the secondary library was supposed to reopen in May. As we headed for the school gate, we happened to run into Mr. Kuramochi, our club supervisor, and I greeted him right along with Shunsuke. We encountered Ms. Kanbayashi after that, but this time only Shunsuke gave a greeting. Since I “didn’t exist” to my homeroom teacher, I couldn’t acknowledge her on school grounds. As soon as we passed through the gate and were off campus, an unexpected person joined us. “Sou! Good work today.” I’d known it was Izumi Akazawa as soon as I heard her voice. She seemed to have caught sight of us and run to catch up. “Coming home from an activity?” I asked. As she caught her breath, Izumi answered, “Yeah. We had a drama club meeting.” “Oh, you’re in the drama club?” “Yeah, though it feels like we’re already giving way to the younger generation now that I’m a third-year.” Come to think of it, I feel like I also heard Hazumi mention that she was in the drama club last year. “Um, and who’s this with you?” Izumi asked, looking toward Shunsuke. “Shunsuke Kouda. Member of Class 1 and head of the biology club. A real oddball.” I gave him a succinct introduction, then introduced Izumi to him as well. “This is my cousin Izumi Akazawa. She’s in Class 3 with me.” “Class 3?” Shunsuke rested a finger on the rim of his glasses. “But you’re talking with her normally… Ah, is it okay because we’re outside of school?” I would have preferred not to have much contact with her on the way to and from school, but—on the other hand, I figured it was all right, because the person I was talking to was Izumi. “Kouda…there’s another boy named Kouda in Class 3, too, isn’t there?” she asked. This was the first time Izumi and Shunsuke had met, so she didn’t know that he was a twin. Once I explained the situation, her eyes went slightly wide. “Wow. It’s really true—you do look alike when you take off your glasses.” “Yeah. My brother tells me all about the issues Class 3 is up against,” Shunsuke admitted. “I’ve heard about the ‘accidents’ and the ‘countermeasures’ and all that. I actually know almost everything.” So when Shunsuke meets a girl for the first time, he gets weirdly uptight and awkward, huh? Chuckling to myself about his change in demeanor, I turned to Izumi. “I called him an oddball, but he’s really not a bad guy. You don’t need to avoid him on the street or anything.” Izumi giggled, while Shunsuke turned a little red and glared at me. Mm. I guess it’s not bad to chitchat like this sometimes. The three of us strolled down the road toward home while chatting about nothing in particular. It was a little past five o’clock, and the western sky was starting to turn faintly red. And then, at the next intersection down, leading onto the main road, we stopped for a red light. When it changed to green, we began to step out into the pedestrian crosswalk. That’s exactly when it happened. A car came charging into the intersection—the driver had probably seen a yellow light and decided to speed up. A small truck that was entering the intersection from the left swerved to avoid it, its tires squealing, and dramatically spun out. The moment it did, there was a noise, a different sound than the engine and tires were making, a violent pop resembling an explosion. The truck had been carrying a large stack of timber in its bed. The rope holding it in place must have snapped or come undone. That was the source of the noise. I froze in surprise, and beside me, Izumi let out a sudden shriek. “Whoa!” Shunsuke shouted. The truck driver recognized the accident in progress and quickly applied the brakes, but it was already too late. He avoided tipping the truck over on its side, but dozens of heavy logs went tumbling out onto the road from the truck bed… The lumber thundered and rolled through the crosswalk in front of us. If we’d stepped out into the street as soon as the light had changed, I don’t know that we would have been able to safely avoid it. And if there had been any other cars in the intersection, it probably would have had much direr consequences. “Damn! What a mess…” The driver got down out of his cab and surveyed the disastrous scene in the intersection with a dumbstruck expression. Then he looked toward us. “Y’all okay?” Of course, it was a complete coincidence that we’d happened to be there. For an instant, I felt a chill, but we hadn’t really been involved, and no one had gotten hurt. Still… Could this be…? I couldn’t have been the only one imagining the possibility. Izumi must have been as well, and Shunsuke probably was, too. If we hadn’t been taking the appropriate “countermeasures” at school, this incident surely would have ended in a terrible tragedy rather than a simple loss of cargo. Even the slightest change in the situation could have resulted in disaster. We might have been crushed by the falling logs or run over by the swerving truck—“death” would have probably “pulled” someone in. That “someone” could have been Izumi or me, both members of Grade 3 Class 3. Although there’s a good possibility it could have been Shunsuke, too. He had a “blood relation within two degrees” in his twin brother, Keisuke, who was in Class 3, so that meant the calamity could also affect him. “We’ve got to be careful,” Izumi stated, staring at my face as I sucked in deep breaths. “We have to make sure the ‘accidents’ don’t start. We’ve got to be absolutely sure.” I met her look of concern with the steeliest expression I could muster and answered in a low voice, “Yes. This ‘job’ is certainly a heavy responsibility.”