Chapter 139

Chapter 6 May I 1 The name Takayuki Nakagawa, which had caught my eye when I saw it in the “News from the Editorial Department” section of the Yomiyama Town News e-mail, turned out to belong to an acquaintance of Yuika Hazumi… It was the evening of Wednesday, May 2 when I learned this. Izumi came to my room and told me that speculation was starting to fly in class. “Apparently, the connection is that he was the younger brother of a close friend of Hazumi’s older brother. No matter how you slice it, this has to have been an unrelated accident,” Izumi said, crossing her arms indignantly. “But I am worried. I’m sure those unpleasant rumors are gaining momentum because of this. Has Hazumi come to you with any kind of information or consulted with you about this at all?” “Not so far, no.” “I see…” Someone told me later that the high schooler Nakagawa was also a journalist working for the publisher of the Yomiyama Town News. He sometimes helped gather information and even wrote articles on occasion. “High School Student Dies in Motorcycle Accident”—the headline implied that the accident had been the result of a badly behaved teenager driving recklessly, but in reality, it was the exact opposite. Takayuki Nakagawa was a serious student and a popular guy. At the time of the accident, he’d been riding in the sidecar of the motorcycle, which someone connected to the Town News (age thirty-five, male) was driving. The majority of the blame for the accident fell to the car that had struck them while making a right turn. There were a few days of school between the long weekend and the upcoming holidays, and when I’d seen Hazumi on Tuesday, there didn’t seem to be anything unusual about her. But today, I’d noticed that she looked a little depressed. It was also obvious that she had something she wanted to tell me, so I thought we could talk a little on the way home, but— The minute the bell rang to signal the end of class, she immediately fled the classroom, alone. Later on, I would discover that she’d hurried home so that she could attend Nakagawa’s wake. “And tomorrow starts another long holiday, huh?” Izumi grumbled, her arms folded across her chest. “It would be nice if those nasty rumors didn’t spread too much over the break, but…” The night grew late, and Izumi went back to her apartment. After debating it for a little while, I settled on writing Mei Misaki an e-mail. Takayuki Nakagawa, the deceased student, had attended First Yomiyama High School (abbreviated “First Yomi”), the same institution Mei went to. They were a grade apart, so I didn’t think it was very likely that she’d known him, but I figured this was something I ought to report to her just in case. That was my reasoning. I let her know that even though the “countermeasures” shielding us from the “accidents” seemed to be working for the time being, there had nevertheless been a series of unusual incidents surrounding Yuika Hazumi, which had caused a commotion to sweep through our class. I told her about my anxiety concerning this development and that I wanted to ask for her thoughts on it. And so… A reply came the next afternoon. I WASN’T ACQUAINTED WITH A SECOND-YEAR NAMED NAKAGAWA, UNFORTUNATELY… ARE YOU WORRIED ABOUT HAZUMI? BUT AS I SAID BEFORE, EVEN IF SOMETHING HAPPENS TO HER, I’M SURE EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE AS LONG AS YOU CONTINUE BEING A “NON-EXISTER.” 2 “Um, Sou, I—” Hazumi got that far before she cut herself off, revealing shades of indecision. I continued walking down the path parallel to the river at the same pace without doing anything to urge her on. “Um, Sou?” she started again, coming to a halt. I stopped, too. The sky was full of dark-gray clouds, and a strong breeze from the river was forcing Hazumi to hold down her hair. “I—somehow, I feel like everyone is avoiding me,” she continued. I’d guessed she might be working up to that topic. About thirty minutes earlier, she’d called me, said she was close by, and asked to see me. “They’re avoiding you?” I responded in as calm a voice as possible. “When you say everyone, who do you mean? In what way?” “I mean the kids in our class,” she answered, casting her eyes downward. “I’ve been calling Shimamura and Kusakabe, but they never answer. Even outside of school, they act like they can’t see me, like they don’t know I’m there. When I asked them what was going on, they just turned away.” Ah, so they’re being that blatant about it? “And it’s not just those two, either. The other girls, and the boys, too, they’re all doing the same…” “You’re being treated like you ‘don’t exist’ outside of class? That’s how it feels?” “Mm-hmm,” Hazumi answered quietly. “Hey, Sou, why are the—?” She suddenly looked up, entreating me for answers. “Why are they all doing this…?” It was May 6, a Sunday. The afternoon of the last day of Golden Week. It wasn’t even five o’clock yet, but thanks to the cloudy weather, it had already started to get dark, as if the sun was just about to set. On the 3rd, 4th, and 5th, I had done the same thing I had done for the first half of Golden Week—basically stayed cooped up and reading to pass the time. I’d gotten invitations from Yagisawa and Shunsuke Kouda to go out, but somehow, I hadn’t felt like it, so I’d turned them down every time. But I’d also been worried about Hazumi all break. The e-mail I got from Mei Misaki said that as long as I played my part as a “non-exister,” everything would be fine. Mei had been insisting that all along, and my confidence in her was unwavering. Nevertheless, that didn’t mean I wasn’t worried about Hazumi. I wanted our “countermeasures” to be a success, just as we’d originally planned. That was still how I felt. “Last week, a high schooler named Nakagawa died in a motorcycle accident, as you know.” Resolutely, I began to address the subject. “Did you mention he was an acquaintance of yours? The boy who passed.” “Uh, that’s—” She cast her eyes downward again. “Mm. It was such sudden news. I was really shocked to hear it.” “He was the younger brother of a close friend of your brother or something?” “That’s right. He and the older Nakagawa brother have been close for a long time, so I’ve talked to Takayuki before, too, but I never thought he’d go out in an accident like that…” She was wearing a light-pink top with a flowy beige skirt. This was my first time seeing Hazumi out of uniform, at least since we’d entered third year. She bit her lip sadly and let out a deep sigh. Her grief was totally understandable. “Everyone heard about the crash and lost their cool, I think.” I decided that there would be no point in trying to soothe her or sugarcoat things. I laid my thoughts out for her plainly. “I also heard about Shimamura’s injury and the incident in Kusakabe’s family. Both events have to be coincidences, with no connection to the ‘calamity.’ But then, the very next day, an acquaintance of yours passed away. Common sense dictates that this, too, was an unrelated incident, but the rest of our class wouldn’t accept the rational explanation. Despite the facts, they blame it on the ‘calamity’…that’s why.” “…………” “Everyone’s scared, you know?” “Scared…you mean, scared of me?” “Yeah. I think that’s why they’re avoiding you. They think that having contact with a ‘non-exister’ is dangerous, even outside of class.” “N-no way…” “There’s no grounds for it. I mean, I think it’s a wild delusion that completely ignores what we know about the ‘phenomenon’ and the ‘accidents.’ Akazawa, the countermeasures officer, was worried that something like this might happen.” “It can’t be… I didn’t do anything wrong!” Hazumi’s voice had turned shrill. Her expression was stiff, and her lips trembled slightly. “I did as I was told. I was always careful to act like I ‘don’t exist’ at school! So why is this happening…?” I couldn’t come up with an answer right away, so I moved one or two steps toward the river. I took a deep breath, feeling the wind that blew across from the opposite bank, carrying the scent of the water with it, before turning back around to face Hazumi. “It’s all right,” I reassured her. “No matter what everyone thinks, this year’s ‘countermeasures’ are working for now, and there haven’t been any ‘accidents.’ I’m sure that Akazawa and the others will put the gossip to rest for us. So don’t get discouraged; keep doing what you’ve been doing…okay?” Hazumi’s expression didn’t relax. But after a silence of several seconds, she wiped a few tears from the corners of her eyes, looked up at me imploringly, and…nodded, weakly but decisively. “Because you’re here,” she said, mustering up a smile. “You’re here with me, Sou. So I can do it…you know?” “Uh…uh, yeah,” I mumbled in answer. Her approach was leaving me totally bewildered. Putting any further responses on hold, I started down the path again. Hazumi hurried to catch up with me. After we’d been walking along like that for a short while, we arrived at the pedestrian-only Izana Bridge. I raised a hand, intending to signal that I would see her later, and kept walking over toward the other side of the bridge. Today, however, Hazumi followed along. She must want to keep talking or something. Um, now what? The bridge and its support columns were wooden. The handrail was made of iron, but the coating was wearing off, so it was getting rusty in places. When I was just about halfway across— “Hey, Sou?” Hazumi called out, stopping me short. “Um…” “What?” “About when we held the meeting at the end of March and decided on this year’s ‘non-exister’… We’d discussed this a little before, right? You offered to take on the role of the ‘non-exister,’ but after that, someone asked if that was enough for the ‘countermeasures.’” “Yeah. We did go over that.” Everyone had agreed with the suggestion to try having two “non-existers” this year, and then…they ended up choosing the second one by drawing lots with playing cards. “Why did you accept the role of the ‘non-exister’? I certainly don’t think it’s going to be much fun.” I remembered asking Hazumi on the way home on the day of the opening ceremony. “That’s, um, because I drew the joker.” That’s what she had answered back then. “If you really didn’t want to do it, I think you could have stubbornly refused during the meeting.” I think that’s what I said to her. We’d made the decision so suddenly that I doubted anyone would have blamed her too harshly if she’d turned it down. “You know, back then, when we picked the ‘second’ with the cards, I—” Hazumi had one hand on the railing, looking over at the flowing river. “I pulled the joker on purpose.” “Ah—!” Despite myself, I let out a short gasp of surprise. She looked at me sidelong. “Do you remember? The cards we used?” I was desperate for an answer. “We chose the same number of cards as there were people, one of which was a joker… After that, several people shuffled them, but I happened to notice that the corner of the wild card was folded down just a little. When it was my turn to pick, I saw that the bent card was still in the deck, and I…I picked it on purpose.” “Why…?” I started to ask, then trailed off. I placed a hand on the railing like Hazumi and gazed down at the dark-green river. “Because,” she answered, “I figured that if you and I were the only ‘non-existers’ in the class, then that would be a very special situation.” “…………” “I’ve had my eye on you ever since we were in the same class in our first year of middle school, Sou. I don’t think you ever realized it, though.” “Uh…n-no.” “Back then, you were even more—how do I put this—you had an air about you, like you had built up walls around yourself and didn’t let anyone break them down. I never saw you act friendly with anyone other than Yagisawa. And when you were alone, you always sort of looked like your thoughts were off somewhere else.” “Did I? I don’t really know what I looked like.” “But I was really curious about you… Somehow I sensed you had a similar aura to you as my big brother.” I had no idea how to respond. Did I just receive a love confession? I recalled what Izumi had said to me in half jest the night before the long holiday. At the same time, I heard another voice, one that I recalled from many years earlier. “What does ‘falling in love’ mean?” It was my own voice, from when I was still an elementary schooler. “Does it mean when you like someone?” It was an innocent question that I’d lobbed at my uncle Teruya, whom I idolized, back at Lakeshore Manor during one of my frequent visits. I wondered how he’d responded. “So you know…” As we looked down at the same river, Hazumi gently leaned her shoulder against mine. “…I’d like you to be friendlier with me. I understand that we can’t hang out together as fellow ‘non-existers’ during school, so…come on—I want to spend more time together in other places. I went to all the trouble of ‘not existing’ with you, after all.” “Uh, ummm…” “If we do, I’ll be fine, no matter how much everyone else ignores me. I’ll persevere.” “Um, when you say…be friendlier, I mean, right now, like, we’re talking together like this, and I don’t really, um…” “That’s not what I mean.” Hazumi raised her voice a little. She stared straight at me, with that look that was both mature and childish at once, and said, “That’s not it. I…” I couldn’t take it. I darted my eyes around helplessly. And today of all days, there was no kingfisher hovering above the water. 3 As I continued to puzzle over this unfamiliar situation, something suddenly flashed through my head. “Sounds like there’s a rumor that Hazumi might be the ‘casualty.’” “The ‘casualty’…in other words, the ‘extra person’ who appeared in our class in April. They’re saying that Hazumi is the one who’s really dead, and that’s why bad things keep happening around her.” This was information that Izumi had given me the night before, when she’d come to my apartment again. Apparently, those rumors had been building over the past several days. But I’d thought it was ridiculous when she told me. Sure, the “extra person” who blended into the class during an “on year” was called “the casualty,” but the “accidents” weren’t related to what they did. I’d never heard anything about misfortunes befalling people who’d come into close contact with the “casualty.” And yet… Generally speaking, yes, it was possible for Hazumi to be this year’s “casualty.” But it was hard to believe the girl standing right before my eyes had expired in an “accident” in the past. Hazumi and I were in the same class in our first year. Since then, she’d developed a slight air of maturity and a reputation for being a “beauty” among the boys in our class. These were memories of mine. Concrete memories. She was also definitely at the “strategy session” at the end of March. She’d really pulled the joker card when the class was deciding on the “second non-exister” and had made a declaration of intent to accept that result. I could recall how she had looked at the time. It was firmly in my memory. April was when the “phenomenon” had started, bringing with it the “extra person” who appeared in our class. In March, it shouldn’t have manifested in our world yet, so Hazumi, who’d been chosen as the “second” at the “strategy session,” couldn’t have been the “casualty.” That was how it seemed to me, but… Things weren’t that simple. Alteration of records. Alteration of memories. That was the most mysterious part of the “phenomenon,” and it made certainty impossible. Hazumi had been in the same class as I was in first grade. She’d been there at the “strategy session” in March. But what if these very recollections of mine were “false memories” that had already been altered? What if, as the rumors went, the “extra person,” aka “casualty,” who had slipped into Grade 3 Class 3 this year was none other than Yuika Hazumi, and neither she herself nor any of the people close to her realized it…? If that was true, what then? We knew that people didn’t suffer “accidents” just from having contact with the “casualty.” Even if we assumed Hazumi really was that person, that wouldn’t necessarily mean anything would change. There was nothing we could do about it. Nothing we could do…supposedly. Suddenly, the wind picked up force and blew down the river, rustling all the trees running alongside it and all the grasses along the banks. Little waves picked up on the river’s surface below us. Holding her skirt down with both hands so that it wouldn’t go flying up in the wind, Hazumi lost her balance. I promptly extended both my hands to prop her up by the shoulders. I could feel her body heat through her shirt. Far from what I imagined “the casualty” would feel like, I sensed a warmth that seemed more “alive” than I was. “Ah—!” She yelped in surprise, so I pulled my hands away immediately. “Th-thank you, Sou.” “Oh…don’t mention it.” I turned my back on her and continued over the bridge. The wind kept blowing, and the scenery around us grew increasingly gloomy and dim. “Ah…wait up,” she said, following after. “There’s a little more that I want to…” I quickened my pace so that she couldn’t catch up to me. Somehow, I got the feeling it wasn’t a good idea to continue our conversation. Not for me, and probably not for her, either. However— When I was just a few meters from the end of the bridge, it happened. I caught sight of that person on the path following along the opposite bank of the river. It was an utterly unexpected coincidence, so for a second, I doubted my vision. But… Ah, that’s…the person over there, that’s… …Mei Misaki. There was no room for doubt. There was quite a distance between us, and it was getting dark out, but…I was still certain despite that. She wasn’t wearing her high school uniform but was instead dressed in an unreasonable amount of black from head to toe. It certainly wasn’t her typical outfit. Nevertheless— The short bob, tossed by the wind. The balance between her smallish face and her slender body. One glance at the whole picture, and it was clear to me that this was indeed Mei. She was walking to my right, slowly following along the path in the direction of the river’s flow. Then she stopped in front of the Izana Bridge. Tilting her head a little, she stared at me. “Mei…” I reflexively called her name. “Mei.” I completely forgot that Hazumi was at my side and jogged the remaining several meters of the bridge. “Sou…” Mei Misaki smiled faintly and greeted me. The wind picked up considerably again, rustling the trees and grass. “What a coincidence, meeting you here.” Unlike when I’d seen her last month at “Blue Eyes Empty to All, in the Twilight of Yomi,” Mei wasn’t wearing her eye patch this time. She had an artificial eye in the left socket, where she’d lost her eyeball due to a childhood illness. But it wasn’t the blue “doll’s eye” that had been there before— It was a different “eye,” black with some brown in it. A new substitute that Mei had begun wearing about two years ago during her daily activities. Ever since getting it, she’d stopped wearing an eye patch as she’d done before. “Mei…” As I stood there face-to-face with her, my heart was pounding so fast, I could almost hear it throbbing. Sure, I’d run over here as fast as I could, but it wasn’t that far of a distance. I had a feeling that wasn’t the only cause. “Is it all right?” Mei asked. “Ah?” I tilted my head a little. She cast her eyes past me to the bridge. “Weren’t you talking with that girl?” “Ah…but we already finished our conversation, so—” “Did you?” “Yeah.” “Hmm.” Narrowing her right eye suspiciously, Mei continued. “I wonder if it’s all right. She’s glaring at us.” “Um…no, that’s not really…” I answered uncertainly, then slowly turned around. At that point, Hazumi had already turned her back to us and started going back to the opposite shore. I couldn’t tell whether or not she had really been staring daggers at us. “Ummm…uh, thanks for your message the other day,” I said. Mei smiled faintly again. “Seems like there’s a lot going on. Do you think you’ll be able to keep it up?” “Yeah…yes, well—” “The girl who was just here, would she happen to be the one who accepted being the ‘second non-exister’?” “Uh, yes. She is, but—” “Hazumi, was it?” “Yes.” “She’s beautiful. Are you dating her, by any chance?” “No way!” Her question came so suddenly that I made a mad rush to deny it. “I’m not. Nu-uh, nothing like that. We’re fellow ‘non-existers,’ so, like, I give her advice on all sorts of stuff. But that’s all.” “Hmm?” Mei narrowed her right eye again and stared into my face. “I think it should be all right so long as you do a good job, but…I can definitely see how she could be a cause for concern. I don’t think you can neglect her.” “What do you mean?” “How do I put this? It’s like she’s staggering along a narrow path above a precipice. But she hasn’t noticed that there’s a pit, and she’s not about to notice, either…like that.” As I listened to Mei’s words, I began to feel as though a cold, heavy mass were expanding in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t know how to respond. All my attention was focused on Mei’s mouth, waiting for her to speak again. Then, mingling with the sound of the constant wind, I heard a faint electronic tune. It was her ringtone. That’s right—it’s the same song I heard last month at the “Blue Eyes…” gallery. Mei fished her phone out of her jacket pocket and turned to the side, as if hiding it from me. “Yeah…ah, yes.” Her response was broken but audible. “I’m… But…yes. All right…” I wonder who she’s talking to? I’d had the same thought last month, too. “…Huh? Sure, okay… I haven’t said anything, relax.” With that, she hung up the phone. Who was that? I was terribly curious, but in the end, I couldn’t bring myself to ask her. 4 The next day was May 7. The morning of the Monday after Golden Week. I went to school a little earlier than usual and headed straight for Building Zero to peek in on the biology club room. Just as I thought, Shunsuke Kouda was already there, checking on the various creatures he was raising. “Oh, long time no see.” When he noticed my arrival, Shunsuke pushed his silver-rimmed glasses up by the bridge and, with an earnest expression, said, “It’s great that we were able to make it through April safely, right?” “Yeah, somehow or other.” “Over the long holiday, we lost a striped loach and an Amano shrimp. I didn’t bother reporting it, but they’re both currently undergoing diaphanization.” Now he’d gone from serious to pouting. I responded with a pout of my own. “I suppose it’s okay for fish.” “And crustaceans?” “I suppose it’s okay for aquatic creatures…” “By the way—” Shunsuke went back to his business. “I told you about this year’s new members in my e-mail the other day, right?” “Uh, yeah. Two boys and a girl?” “Right, yes. So one of those boys is a guy named Takanashi.” As soon as I heard that, it piqued my interest. That was a name I had heard and seen before. “This Takanashi, is his name written with the characters that mean little birds playing?” Shunsuke nodded, serious. “I think he’s probably the one you’re picturing. Our new member, Takanashi, has a sister two years older than him named Jun. She’s in Class 3.” Sure enough, there was a girl in Grade 3 Class 3 named Jun Takanashi. Just my luck to have a “related individual” join the biology club! “I was worried about it, so I did a little digging, but it doesn’t seem like she’s told him anything about the special circumstances of Class 3. She’s upholding the rules about not telling other people unless it’s absolutely necessary, this Jun Takanashi.” “Seems like it, yeah.” I sighed, feeling somewhat heavier. I looked across the room, and my eyes landed on the tank housing the white axolotl, the second Woo. “I happened to hear something from Keisuke,” Shunsuke mentioned. “Something about a few unsettling incidents happening with your class?” He must have heard that awful rumor about Hazumi. “That’s…” With mixed feelings, I recalled how she’d been acting the day before. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but most of it doesn’t seem to be true. A student from First Yomi High did die in a traffic accident, but he wasn’t a ‘related individual.’ The crash didn’t happen due to one of our ‘accidents,’ so you don’t need to worry. The ‘calamity’ hasn’t started.” “Is that so?” “Yeah.” “Hmm. Well, if you’re sure, then I won’t worry too much.” A few minutes before the first bell, I left Shunsuke behind in the clubroom. There was one more thing I wanted to check on before going to class. I headed for the secondary library on the first floor of my current location, Building Zero. A CLOSED sign had been hanging on the door all April, while the librarian, Mr. Chibiki, was on vacation. He was supposed to have been gone for the whole month, but the room had still been closed up during the first couple days of May. Now that we were back from the long holiday, I was curious to see if it would be open or not. In the hallway of the old redbrick school building, the sun hardly shone, even in the middle of the day. Just as I finally arrived at my destination, someone called my name from somewhere behind me. “Sou Hiratsuka.” The voice sounded a little hoarse but low and melodious… That’s— When I turned around, I saw a man in a black shirt, black jacket, and black pants; he was in black from top to bottom. —Mr. Chibiki. “Ah, good morning,” I greeted him politely. “Have you started back at school today?” “Yeah. Guess so,” he answered. Compared to when I’d met him at the end of the previous year, his face, behind a pair of unfashionable blackish-green glasses, looked quite haggard. His hair had always been streaked with gray, but it seemed to me that it had gotten much whiter. He’d taken leave to deal with some “personal affairs,” but now I wondered if he was having health problems. “I heard about the situation from Ms. Kanbayashi,” the black-clad librarian said, walking toward me where I stood. “She told me that this is an ‘on year.’ And that you accepted the role of the ‘non-exister’ so the ‘countermeasures’ would go smoothly—is that right?” “Yes.” I nodded obediently. “And also, um, there’s one more person this year…” “I heard that, too. That’s the additional ‘countermeasure’ they decided on at the meeting in March, yeah? To try having two ‘non-existers.’” “Yes. That’s right.” At that moment, the crackling sound of the warning bell started blaring through the old speakers of Building Zero, signaling that there were only five minutes left until the bell marking the beginning of class. “Are you going to first period? You ‘don’t exist,’ so you’ve got to be cutting sometimes, right?” Mr. Chibiki asked. “No. I more or less try to go,” I answered. First period on Mondays was math class. If I skipped too much, I wouldn’t be able to follow the material at all. “If it was PE or music or something, I could miss it no problem, though.” “Hmm. All right then.” Rubbing the tip of his pointed chin, he asked, “I wonder if you could stop by for a bit during lunch? This library will be open again, starting today.” “Ah, sure,” I answered without hesitation, “I’ll do that.” “Anything you wanted to discuss with me?” “Yeah…sort of.” “Good, there are some things I want to ask you, too, plus some things I want to tell you,” Mr. Chibiki said, roughly brushing back his conspicuously white mop of hair. “I’ll be waiting.” 5 First period math class. In hindsight, that was when I first noticed that Hazumi was behaving strangely. By the time homeroom started, she still hadn’t arrived. Our class had a tacit understanding that “non-existers” weren’t required to attend either the daily short homeroom period or the weekly long homeroom, so this wasn’t particularly unusual. After that, she ended up coming in about five minutes late to first period, but since the teacher was aware of the situation, there wasn’t a word of censure. Hazumi herself stayed quiet, of course, and took her seat at the last desk in the row closest to the windows overlooking the schoolyard… During class, I tried glancing over at her several times from my seat at the last desk in the row closest to the hall. She had her textbook out, but she didn’t have a notebook open, nor was she holding a pencil. On top of that, she spent the whole class period with one cheek in her hand, looking down. Maybe Hazumi was sleepy or wasn’t feeling motivated. Or perhaps she was simply spaced out or was unwell. Second period was Japanese language arts class. Hazumi’s demeanor didn’t change. Even during the break between first and second period, she remained seated with both elbows up on the desk, holding her face in both hands and staring straight down. She didn’t so much as glance my way. This struck me as strange and was definitely cause for concern, but we were in school, and in the room for Class 3 at that. There’s no way I can just go ask her what’s wrong… When second period ended, Hazumi stood up from her desk and left the classroom alone before the next course began. As she left, I caught a quick glimpse of her face—she was pale. I still didn’t feel I could say anything, but I stood up without really knowing why and walked over toward her desk by the window. “What the…?” I heard a voice. It came from Izumi Akazawa, who’d gone over to the desk before I got there. Next to her was class representative Tsugunaga. The two of them peered down at Hazumi’s place, then looked at each other, and Izumi turned to me for just a second. Frowning pointedly and wearing a grim expression, she shook her head ever so slightly. Oh, what’s going on? I waited for the two girls to leave, then walked over to the desk myself. This piece of furniture had been brought over from the old Grade 3 Class 3 classroom in Building Zero for the “non-existers.” Staring at its pitted, blackened surface, I found some graffiti. “Non-existers,” go away! Nearby was more. Unlucky Hazumi You’re cursed Are you the “casualty”? This was written in black (seemingly) permanent ink, with (seemingly) mixed penmanship. The awful words were freshly written, too. “How cruel,” I mumbled unconsciously. “Who would do this?” What kind of person would take these rumors seriously and stoop to such cheap harassment? I glanced around the classroom. Naturally, as a “non-exister,” I had no one’s eyes on me. Amid the din, Izumi’s voice reached my ears. “We have to do something.” “You’re right; we do,” answered Tsugunaga. “If this keeps up…” “It would be awful if it spread, wouldn’t it?” “I can’t imagine… In any case, I’ve got to say something to Ms. Kanbayashi. And warn everyone after school, maybe…” Perhaps her statement came from a sense of responsibility as a countermeasures officer. That and a sense of justice. From the way she was speaking, I could feel Izumi’s irritation and anger at her classmates’ failure to maintain their composure and follow the rules. 6 Thinking back on that day, the weather had been strange all morning. It was unpleasantly chilly for early May. The wind was strong and cold, but about half the sky was cloudless and clear. The other half was full of thick clouds that were shifting from moment to moment. When I looked outside just after the end of second period, the sky had changed once again. I couldn’t make out even a sliver of blue, at least not from the classroom windows. All I could see were clouds. There was an enormous mass of them, a swirling mix of white and leaden gray, swelling up from the ground toward the sky. It almost seemed to writhe ominously on its way up. The scenery outside, which had been bright until just a moment earlier, was now dark and gloomy. The inside of the classroom had also darkened to the point that we needed to turn on the lights to continue. Third period was science class. The bell rang, and Ms. Kanbayashi appeared wearing a white lab coat that she hadn’t been wearing during homeroom, but there was still no trace of Hazumi. Ms. Kanbayashi opened her attendance book on the lectern and checked the number and faces of the seated students. Of course, she must have noticed Hazumi’s absence right away, but she carried on without the slightest change to her expression. She also made a deliberate effort not to look toward me at all. Of all the teachers, Ms. Kanbayashi was the most thorough about treating the “non-existers” as if we didn’t exist. What happened to Hazumi? I assume the graffiti on her desk made her pretty upset. I guess she spent first and second period looking down like that because of the shock of seeing it. If she doesn’t come back to class, it’s probably because she doesn’t want to be in here anymore—because she can’t stand it. Outside, it was growing increasingly dark. Thunder rumbling in the distance accompanied the sound of fiercely blowing wind… Ms. Kanbayashi started class without waiting for Hazumi to return. We were in volume two of the second section of our textbook, a passage on “cells and development of organisms.” I was as serious and focused in science as in any other course, but it wasn’t very interesting. As someone who’d belonged to the biology club since my first year of middle school, this was all information I knew already. Frankly, it was rather boring. A little over ten minutes had passed since the start of class. Just as I was stifling my second yawn— The door in the back of the classroom slid open, and in came Hazumi. A number of students turned to look as she entered but immediately averted their eyes and faced the front again. Even Ms. Kanbayashi, up at the podium, continued her lecture after only the briefest of pauses, as if nothing had even happened. She didn’t acknowledge Hazumi at all. Seized by a somewhat…no, a very intense negative premonition, I glanced sidelong at Hazumi to try to figure out how she was doing. Once she reached her seat, she didn’t make any attempt to take out her textbook or notebook. Instead, she slowly stared up at the ceiling before looking my way. I averted my gaze without watching her complete the movement. From her perspective, it probably looked like I had panicked and turned away. From my standpoint, however, that was the only thing I could have done. Thunder rumbled in the air. Wind blew through some windows that had been left open, sending the thin curtains that had been halfway pulled back fluttering. And then— “I can’t.” A voice murmured quietly. “I can’t do it.” The second time was a little louder than the first. Then, in an even louder voice— “I can’t do it anymore… I’m sick of this.” The voice was coming from Hazumi. Ah, this is bad news… At that point, I think less than half of the class had caught on to what she was doing. Ms. Kanbayashi didn’t seem to have noticed; she ignored Hazumi and continued with her lecture, writing several key words up on the blackboard. “So basically, cell division occurs in this manner in multicellular organisms. After that, the divided cells mature and divide again. Through the repetition of this process…” Just as Ms. Kanbayashi was getting into her explanation— Thunder boomed through the air again. The lights, suspended from the ceiling in rows, flickered from instability. With a clatter of her chair, Hazumi stood up. And then— “I’m sick of it!” This time, she raised her voice loud enough to be heard in every corner of the room. “I can’t do it anymore…” From behind the lectern, Ms. Kanbayashi looked surprised, taken aback even. Most of the students had a similar reaction, and even I couldn’t say I was perfect in this regard, either. However— “All right, let’s turn to page thirty-six in the textbook next.” Despite it all, the teacher continued to ignore Hazumi, ignored the complaint she’d surely heard in an attempt to carry on with the lesson. Some students followed her lead and turned the pages of their textbooks, while others glanced over or turned to look at Hazumi where she stood… Despite the fact that no one was saying anything, a strained sort of commotion was spreading through the classroom. “Don’t ignore me any longer!” Hazumi made another plea, rattling on as though she couldn’t maintain control over her agitated emotions. “I can’t be a ‘non-exister’ anymore!” The commotion died down briefly. She continued her appeal in a tearful voice. “I exist! I’m not the ‘casualty’ or anything like that. I’m really alive, and I’m right here!” She may or may not have been done speaking, but at that moment, a strange, unfamiliar sound suddenly began reverberating through the air. The noise was utterly bizarre. If one tried to express it in an onomatopoeia, it would come out to something like…papapa, bap, ratatatat… It was echoing from the windows. From all the windows facing the schoolyard. No, on second thought, it was originating from the entirety of the school building, windows included. From every exterior of the building. For a moment, it wasn’t clear what had happened. Some people probably just assumed it had started to rain. But they were wrong. It wasn’t rain. That wasn’t the sound of droplets—it was rougher, harsher than that… This is hail. I remembered encountering hail several years ago at Lakeshore Manor in Hinami. Back then, the thunder had also sounded as it did now, and a similar sound had also enveloped the house out of nowhere… As I’d looked around restlessly, wondering what it was, Uncle Teruya, who had been with me at the time, explained. “That’s hail. Drops of ice that form inside cumulonimbus clouds collect and fall. Regular hail is five millimeters or more across, while its miniature counterpart is less than five millimeters. From the sound of it, what’s falling now is the regular kind.” That’s what he had told me. I heard a girl shriek from the front of the row near the windows. Surprised at the hail blowing in through the open windows, she leaped out of her seat. A number of people around her also got up in a panic. I could clearly see bits—more like clusters, actually—of white ice scattered around the area, even from where I was sitting. They were huge. About the size of glass marbles or quail’s eggs. The classroom grew louder and louder. At that moment, thunder roared again, as if striking a routed enemy. It was much closer and much stronger than before. The ceiling lights flickered again. The commotion in the classroom swelled with yet more confusion and fear. “I am—” Even amid the chaos, Hazumi continued shouting her appeal. “I am not the ‘casualty’! I am right here! I…” Oh…give it up already, I replied in my mind. Give up. We get it. You can stop already. You can stop being a “non-exister.” It’s fine. …Settle down. At the same time, I was trying to appease myself. Calm down. Calm down. It’s fine. Even if she drops out now, we’ll be okay, as long as I keep doing well at acting invisible. “As long as you do your job properly, Sou…” I ruminated over the situation, recalling Mei Misaki’s words from yesterday. Even if Hazumi’s actions threatened this year’s “countermeasures,” the class still has me as a “non-exister.” That means the “countermeasures” are still in effect, and we should be able to prevent any “accidents” from occurring. So now… “Close the windows,” Ms. Kanbayashi ordered, dashing toward them herself. “Shut all the open ones!” In response, several students stood up from their seats and followed the teacher’s instructions. But for some time, all the windows on the schoolyard side of the room rattled in a crosswind, strong enough to be called a gust. Large chunks of hail battered them like bullets; ultimately, they shattered a pane of glass in the back of the classroom—right next to Hazumi’s seat. With a short yelp, she crouched down beside her desk. The gale blowing in tossed her long light-brown hair up in disarray. Fragments of glass rained down on her. And not a single person moved to help her. Her insistence that she existed had been all too sudden. No one had been able to accept it. So even now, she was still a “non-exister”… That’s why no one responded. They wouldn’t dare move. I, on the other hand, was frozen in place for quite a different reason. Even if Hazumi’s given up her duties, I still have to carry on being a “non-exister.” So there’s no way I can act like I’m really here right now. I was only able to entertain that thought for one or two seconds. The hail kept falling, and the wind kept gusting. Thunder rumbled again, closer this time, and almost simultaneously, all the lights went out. A power outage from a lightning strike? Seconds later, the classroom, already in an uproar, descended into even more confusion. Suddenly, something flew in through the broken window beside Hazumi’s seat… Just like when the hail had started, for a second, I wasn’t able to grasp what it was. I just knew that some big black object had flown in from outside. But a moment later, I realized what it was. Something big and black…a bird. From its pitch-black wings, body, head, and beak, plus its deep, piercing cries, I could tell it was a crow. One of the crows flying above the school grounds must have been surprised by the sudden hail and flown in to escape. No, it’s still acting far too strangely for the circumstances. Its movements are too violent somehow, too random. Flapping its pitch-black wings, the bird charged toward me. I instinctively covered my face with both arms. It grazed my head, then crashed into the wall adjoining the corridor. Then it immediately changed course, this time flying toward the blackboard in the front of the room. I felt something warm on the back of one of the hands I had used to cover my face. When I looked, I found it stained red. Blood? But I don’t think I’m injured, so is this from the bird? I wonder if it’s hurt? Maybe it took a direct hit from a big chunk of hail. Which caused it to freak out and do all this… The black shape darted around the inside of the dim classroom, releasing strange cries all the while. It was a jungle crow, with a full wingspan of about a meter. It seemed huge as it circled around and around, struggling violently inside the classroom. Screams without respect to gender could be heard in every direction. Some students fled from the erratically flying creature. Some overturned desks and chairs in an attempt to ward off the bird. Others tripped over themselves as they ran around trying to escape… One boy even pulled a broom out of the cleaning supplies closet and wielded it like a bamboo sword. That individual was Tajimi, one of the countermeasures officers. “Everyone, out of the classroom!” In the middle of the confusion, Ms. Kanbayashi shouted, “Calm down! Get into the hall.” The students near the door followed her instructions, but not everyone could escape right away. A number of people had fallen, crouched down on the floor, or were frozen stiff in their seats, unable to move. Other students were trying to assist them. Tajimi abandoned his broom and joined the effort. Yagisawa too. But as a “non-exister,” I obviously couldn’t do anything but watch… Even though it was letting up a bit, hail was still pouring outside. Meanwhile, the crow continued swooping around haphazardly inside the classroom, colliding with walls and windows and the ceiling, letting out discouraged shrieks and scattering bloody black feathers… Finally, it crashed into one of the light fixtures. The two long fluorescent light bulbs made a loud noise as they shattered. And right beneath where they’d landed was a girl, facedown on the floor, motionless. She didn’t move a muscle when shards from the bulbs rained down on her. The back of her neck, laid bare by her disheveled hair, was wet and crimson… …It can’t be. I felt like my heart had stopped. There’s no way—she can’t be… Dead? Is she dead? Did she maybe hit her head when she fell during the sudden uproar? Forgetting my duties as the “non-exister,” I started to dash over to her, but someone got to her quicker than I could. “Are you all right?” they asked, cradling her in their arms. “Kusakabe? Come on—get it together!” The person clutching her was Izumi Akazawa. She had scratches of her own on her forehead as well. I stopped moving, and Izumi looked toward me for a split second, then nodded slightly. “You’re all right, aren’t you? You can stand, right?” Finally, with Izumi’s help, the fallen student—Kusakabe—sat up slowly. “Thank you,” I could hear her say. “It surprised me. I was too scared to move.” “Are you hurt?” “I’m all right. Just a little sore.” Deeply relieved, I retreated from the area. By then, the sounds of the crow’s rampage had ceased. I slowly retreated into a back corner and looked around the classroom that was still dark from the power outage. Hazumi was nowhere to be found. I spotted the battered crow in front of the cleaning supplies closet. Its blood-smeared black wings were bent and broken in places…and one of its eyes was crushed. Its beak hung half open; it had used up all its strength. “Poor thing…,” I mumbled, keeping my voice quiet. How awful. I’m sure it didn’t mean to fly in here and cause all this turmoil. I’ve got to get in touch with Shunsuke Kouda later. If it’s going to be treated like garbage and thrown away, I’d like to bury it in the graveyard outside the biology club room. Or maybe I’ll let Shunsuke turn it into a display specimen this time if he asks. 7 The hail that had fallen at a little past eleven o’clock in the morning that day varied wildly depending on where you were in Yomiyama City. It was particularly violent in an area with a radius of about two kilometers, which encompassed North Yomiyama Middle School. Outside that zone, it wasn’t all that bad. The damage to buildings and fields was also pretty much limited to the places within that circle. There were a number of other classrooms in Building C, besides the one for Grade 3 Class 3, where the windowpanes broke and caused damage. However, Class 3 was the only room where a crow had flown in and rampaged around the area. It also was the only one in which students sustained cuts from glass shards, got attacked by a bird, or injured themselves in the commotion to escape. Fortunately, however, all their injuries were minor. And needless to say, there’d been no casualties. During the middle of third period, however— Hazumi, who’d undertaken the role of the “second non-exister” as part of the year’s “countermeasures,” renounced her role, insisting on her presence to the entire class. And since the strange sequence of events occurred immediately after her declaration— I’m not surprised that some people are seeing a connection… On the one hand, that made a certain amount of sense to me, but on the other hand, I wanted to believe anything but. If Hazumi’s declaration had indeed invalidated the “countermeasures” and started the “calamity,” then shouldn’t someone have died in the panic that followed? Moreover— “As long as you do your job properly, Sou…” There was also what Mei Misaki had said. Even if Hazumi called it quits, I was still playing the part of a “non-exister.” The “countermeasures” should still be in effect. I figured the “calamity” hadn’t actually started yet. Or so I’d thought, but— I discovered something else later that evening. Around the same time that Grade 3 Class 3 was panicking in the face of the hail and the crow, a “related individual” somewhere in Yomiyama City breathed their last. A man in his sixties whose cancer had advanced to the terminal stage, who’d been admitted to a hospice on the outskirts of town some time ago. His name was Joukichi Kanbayashi. He was Ms. Kanbayashi’s much-older brother.