Chapter 150

Chapter 14 September I 1 “The second semester starts today.” Saturday, September 1. After the opening ceremony, our homeroom teacher, Ms. Kanbayashi, stood at the teacher’s podium in front of our class. “This year’s ‘phenomenon’ ended in July, and the ‘accidents’ have stopped—our predictions seem to have been correct. We made it through summer vacation without a single incident. Not one ‘related individual’ has died, and a new month has started. This means that we can put all our lingering worries behind us. “Everyone,” she continued, slowly looking around the classroom. Her expression was sunny, and she was even wearing a smile, something we’d rarely seen before. But the emotion behind that smile wasn’t exactly happiness. Rather, it seemed to be relief, deep relief from the bottom of her heart. “I hope that the remaining seven months until your graduation can be a meaningful time for all of you and that you can still make many fun memories. As we grieve those we have lost to the ‘calamity,’ let’s all do our best… Let’s do it for those who are no longer with us as well.” At present, there were five empty seats in the Grade 3 Class 3 classroom: the seats belonging to Tsugunaga and Keisuke Kouda, who had died; the seat belonging to Makise, who was still in the hospital; the seat belonging to Izumi, who had disappeared when she “returned to death”; and the seat belonging to Hazumi, who was absent even today. The same number as before the break. “Classes will begin on Monday, following the schedule for second semester, and—” Ms. Kanbayashi looked around the classroom again, then said very deliberately, “And Hazumi, who has taken a long absence since the middle of the first semester, will be coming back to school next week. I met and talked with her the other day and confirmed her intentions.” The air went faintly astir with murmuring. Several students looked at one another silently. Yagisawa and I did, too. “You all know what caused Hazumi to stop coming to school, yes? It was that disturbance in our classroom at the beginning of May. But the ‘calamity’ is over, and things are different now. Once I convinced her to forget about what happened before and return to school, she finally came around.” Listening to our teacher talk, I was honestly glad to hear it. After all, a part of me had been concerned about her this whole time. “So, everyone, I have a favor to ask you. When Hazumi comes to school, please be decent and treat her as a normal member of your class, just like you did before all this. Okay?” I exchanged another quick look with Yagisawa, then nodded obediently. After that, I just sort of let my eyes drift out the window on the schoolyard side. The late-summer blue sky stretched out with nary a hint of a cloud. 2 I got a call from Koichi Sakakibara the next day, on the afternoon of Sunday the 2nd. I knew it was him right away when I looked down at my phone; his name showed up on my display, since I already had his number. “Sou? It’s me. Sakakibara.” And that was definitely his voice. It was clearer, plainer, and easier to understand than when he’d called me from Mexico at the start of July. “Yes, it’s me. Um, are you in Japan already?” “I just got back last week.” “Um, ah…Mei said that she got a call from you from LA earlier.” “Ah, yeah, yeah,” Koichi answered readily. “When I spoke with her, I heard all the details about what happened after our conversation. I heard who the ‘extra person’ was for this year and what happened to her. It must have been hard on you. But, well, it’s good.” “Yeah.” “I guess the second semester started yesterday.” “That’s right.” “And you made it through August okay?” “Yes.” “Mm. So there’s really no reason to worry anymore. It was the same way three years ago, too.” On the other end of the phone, I heard a sigh. Koichi must have been worried about our situation here all along, even as he dealt with his own problems in a faraway foreign country. “Must have been hard on you, Sou,” he repeated after a while. “Are you doing all right, emotionally?” I found myself at a loss for words when he asked me this. “I heard everything from Misaki. I heard you were the one who returned her—returned Izumi Akazawa to ‘death.’ She was your cousin, right? And you did it with your own hands.” That night, on the bridge, I had tried to push Izumi into the river, but actually, she had gone over right before my hands touched her… But to Mei, it had certainly looked like I’d done it “with my own hands.” And I hadn’t made any attempt to clarify anything since it happened. “Sakakibara?” I replied to him decisively. “Three years ago, you returned the ‘casualty’ to ‘death’—is that right?” “Yeah, that’s right.” Koichi’s voice lowered slightly. I continued by asking, “Who was it? And how did you return them to ‘death’? You still remember, even now, don’t you?” “Yes, I remember.” “But at some point, those memories will fade and disappear, right?” “They’re supposed to.” “And when will that happen…?” When will they go away, these memories of mine? “Who knows?” Koichi mumbled. After a moment, he said, “We don’t have any previous examples except for Matsunaga, the guy who left behind that cassette tape. They should fade sooner or later, after a few years…or so I’d thought, but it’s probably different for everyone. The events might be gone by next year, or they might stick around. Do you want to forget quickly, Sou?” “Well…” “If you do, you won’t be able to remember your time with her, either. But you’d rather just lose it all in spite of that?” “How do you feel about it, Sakakibara?” I answered his question with a question. Koichi mumbled again, “How do I feel…?” Then he answered me with a sigh. “I still don’t really know what to make of it.” After that, the two of us were quiet for a while. Just as I was getting a little impatient for one of us to start speaking again— “Oh, that reminds me,” he added abruptly. “There’s something that’s been kind of weighing on my mind. I’ve been wondering about it; it’s a little strange.” “What’s that?” “It’s about my memories of Akazawa, this year’s ‘extra person.’” His memories of Izumi? What could that mean? “So back at the beginning of July, I heard from Misaki about the situation this year, and after that I called you, right? Back then, I told you everything as I remembered it from three years ago, but…there’s something mysterious going on.” “Meaning what?” “I know that ‘my memories from three years ago’ include some ‘memories of Izumi Akazawa, who was in the same class with me that year.’ Her name, face, voice, and what happened to her when she died on our class trip—when you and I spoke, I was able to recall those things normally. Which would mean, in other words, that up until that point, my recollections hadn’t been altered by the ‘phenomenon,’ right?” “Ummm, so then…” “There’s a possibility that these very memories that I’m recounting now have been changed, too. But somehow, I don’t think that’s the case. Because if you had mentioned ‘this year’s Izumi Akazawa’ to me back when we talked, in that moment, my mind would have been altered, and I would have forgotten about the ‘Izumi Akazawa of three years ago.’” “That’s…um, and why would you be able to keep your memories?” “Nobody knows for sure. That’s why it’s ‘mysterious,’ but you know, I can think of a few reasons why this happened.” “Like what?” I asked. Koichi answered, “For example, distance. There’s the question of geographic distance from Yomiyama. As you know, the ‘accidents’ that befall ‘related individuals’ due to the ‘phenomenon’ only happen inside Yomiyama city limits. Once you get out of town, you’re ‘out of range.’ The falsification of records and the memory changes also have a ‘limit,’ so to speak, so if you’re in a place as distant as Mexico, for example, that ‘power’ ought to be weaker, don’t you think? Depending on the circumstances, the changes could be incomplete or take longer, right?” “Uh, sure. But…” “And if that alone isn’t enough to fully explain it, then maybe there’s something different about me.” “You’re special?” “In the sense that I’m the person who returned the ‘casualty’ to ‘death’ three years ago, yeah. Also, I’m the only one who has the special privilege of remembering that year’s ‘extra person,’ while everyone else immediately forgot about her.” I recalled how Mei had described it at some point, a “cruel privilege,” and nodded enthusiastically to the voice on the other end of the line. “So maybe, when it comes to the whole ‘phenomenon’ and ‘calamity’ thing from three years ago, the fact that I still remember who the ‘extra person’ was means I’ve been able to hold on to more of my memories than expected.” “I can see the logic in it, more or less.” “But there’s no point in discussing what it means or what to do about it anymore, is there? This year’s ‘calamity’ has stopped already…” “Ah, yeah. That’s true.” “At any rate, I’m glad it’s over. It’s a relief. I’m sure you faced many difficult situations… Mm, you did really well, Sou.” He was thinking of coming to visit Yomiyama for the first time in a while before next spring. When he did, he wanted to get together with Mei and me. That’s what Koichi said, and then he hung up. Still gripping the phone, I let out a series of sighs. I wasn’t really sure why. The shisa charm I had received from Mei swayed in time with my breaths. 3 Monday, September 3. As Ms. Kanbayashi had announced, Yuika Hazumi came back to school. However, she didn’t appear in the classroom until our first-period math class was about to start— “Sorry to be late on my first day back,” she apologized humbly. The math teacher, Ms. Inagaki (female, approximate age mid-thirties), answered gently, “It’s all right. There’s no need to rush; go on and take your seat. Your absence has gone on for a while, so I’m sure there are many things you won’t know. Please don’t hesitate to ask, either during class or afterward.” Word of her situation must have been carefully shared among the teachers. “Yes. Thank you,” Hazumi answered, as politely as before. Something’s a little different about her, I realized. Her hair was cut shorter than before. She looked like she had lost some weight. She was acting like she was walking on eggshells. That’s how it seemed to me. I was unsure whether I ought to go and say something, even just a few words, to her after class… First period ended, and during the break between first and second periods, Hazumi spoke with Shimamura and Kusakabe, her friends from before. Same with the break between second and third periods and the next break as well. The girls seemed to be chatting naturally, with no hard feelings. I even saw her wearing a happy smile, which filled me with a great sense of relief and assuaged my concerns over her behavior. I figured there was no need for me to go talk to her right now, in that case. With Hazumi’s return, the number of empty seats in the classroom decreased by one, leaving four: those belonging to the two deceased students, the one for the hospitalized Makise, and Izumi’s seat. I thought it would probably be a good idea to remove the desk and chair that had been Izumi’s and decided to suggest it to the two countermeasures officers soon. Etou, one of those countermeasures officers, came up to talk to me during lunch. “Makise seemed to be very happy that you went to visit her the other day.” I didn’t know what to feel when she told me that— “Have you been to see her again since then?” I asked. “The following week and once the week after that,” Etou answered. “There was talk that she might be able to leave the hospital in the fall, but…well, apparently she took another turn for the worse.” “Is that so?” “As things are, she’s going to end up repeating the year… She’s going to be held back, but she said there’s no helping it. She really has become quite weak… She looked so pitiful.” Etou narrowed her big, dark eyes sadly and hung her head. I couldn’t stand it. “It’ll be all right,” I declared, without any solid basis for it. “Makise is definitely going to get better.” “I wonder… She will, right?” “I’ll go with you again to see her.” “Okay… Thanks.” The “phenomenon” was over, the “accidents” had stopped, and Hazumi, who had gotten hurt because she had taken on the role of a “non-exister” for the sake of the original “countermeasures,” had even returned to school without incident… Everything in the Grade 3 Class 3 classroom on September 3 seemed perfectly ordinary, probably for the first time since class had started in April. There was a tranquility hanging in the air, a peaceful, cheerful atmosphere that had never been there before. But in the midst of it— Like a blot of pitch-black paint spreading over the corner of a fresh new sheet of paper, one thing threatened to ruin the pleasant scene. Ms. Kanbayashi had not come to school that day. In her place, the social studies teacher, Mr. Tsubouchi (male, approximate age late forties), had led the morning’s homeroom. And he had informed us of the following in a businesslike tone: “Ms. Kanbayashi is absent today. Apparently, she’s feeling unwell… She’s probably caught a cold or something. I think your fourth-period science class is going to be a study hall, but I’ll get back to you with specific instructions later.” 4 Tuesday, September 4. Ms. Kanbayashi was absent again. When Mr. Tsubouchi appeared during morning homeroom just like he had the day before, I was a little surprised, and I started to feel kind of uncomfortable. However, at that point, I think it was nothing more than a distant feeling of vague anxiety. “Ms. Kanbayashi seems to still be unwell…” Mr. Tsubouchi gave us the same businesslike report as the day before, along with instructions for the day. As I listened to him drone on, I tried to reassure myself. I’m sure that Ms. Kanbayashi has been under a great deal of stress since the spring, being the homeroom teacher for Grade 3 Class 3 and all. Couple that with the fact that her brother died in May, and most likely, when summer vacation wrapped up and the ending of the “phenomenon” was certain, all the tension that had been building suddenly caught up to her. I’m sure that’s why she’s been unwell… Yagisawa had mentioned a similar line of thinking. “She seems like the kind of teacher who values hard work above all. Once she stopped for a moment, the fatigue must have set in.” Even so, there was one other thing going on that day that had me worried. The day before, all the students in our class—except for Makise, who was still in the hospital—had come to school. But on the 4th, one person was missing from the classroom. It was Shimamura. One of the girls who was friends with Hazumi. The one who had gotten injured when she was hit by a bicycle in April. I hadn’t seen her all day. There had been no special mention of her absence by the teachers, so I figured she was probably out sick, and that turned out to be correct. Apparently, Kusakabe had been worried and had called Shimamura’s house after second period to confirm that fact. “She caught a cold.” Kusakabe’s voice made it to my ear as she informed a group of girls that included Hazumi. “She’s been a little feverish since last night, and she’s unsteady on her feet, so she’s resting.” “Now that you mention it, I think Shimamura had a mask on yesterday?” “And she was coughing a little.” “Yeah, she was.” “It’s just a normal cold?” “Probably. She said not to worry, and she sounded pretty good on the phone. She said she’ll come back once her fever goes down.” “I hope she doesn’t have the flu.” “Isn’t it a little early in the year for that?” “I guess it is.” Listening to the girls’ conversation, part of me was relieved, but at the same time, I still felt a little uncomfortable. But at that point, the anxiety that accompanied that uncomfortable feeling was still very vague. This year’s “phenomenon” is over, and the “accidents” have stopped. I was certain of that. The image of Izumi after she threw herself into the muddy waters of the Yomiyama River that night in July was still burned vividly into my mind. The “accidents” had stopped because of the death of “Izumi Akazawa.” That was for certain. There was no way I was wrong about it. So… “…It’s all right,” I reassured myself as I returned to the book I had borrowed from the Daybreak Forest library the other day—Ellery Queen’s The Siamese Twin Mystery. 5 Wednesday, September 5. A thick fog rolled in that morning. It wasn’t that bad in Tobii, where I lived, but even so, I probably would have been somewhat hesitant if someone had suggested I ride my bike in the fog. The fog occurred across the whole area encompassing the city of Yomiyama and, in many places, was remarkably dense. The area around North Yomi Middle School was no exception. The whole area around the school grounds was completely enveloped in the bluish-white fog. Even if you came right up to the gate, all you could see of the school inside were vague gray silhouettes. Inside the classroom, people were excitedly telling stories about almost getting lost on the way to school, or of traffic signals being basically useless, or of encountering scared, crying elementary school kids. “Wonder how many years it’s been since we had fog like this?” Yagisawa said when I saw him. “There was one really bad fog day back in second or third grade of elementary school, and if I remember correctly, I think they canceled school. You wouldn’t have been here for that, right, Sou?” “So you’re saying compared to that, today’s fog is no big deal?” I asked. Yagisawa grumbled, “I don’t think that,” and looked out the windows to the school grounds. “Man, we’re up on the third floor, but I can’t see anything but fog.” “It’s incredible. Or rather, bizarre.” “Definitely. But you know, the forecast says it’ll clear up this afternoon, so…” Ms. Kanbayashi was absent that day as well, and the moment we were informed, an unnatural hush fell over the classroom. Followed by a small commotion. I could hear voices asking, “What happened to her?” and “I wonder if she’s okay?” Shimamura, who had been absent yesterday, was out again as well. I guess she hasn’t gotten over her cold yet? And another student was absent, too. A number of people were late to first period, largely because of the fog. However, there was one student who never showed up, even as second period came and went… A boy named Kuroi. I had hardly ever spoken to him, so I didn’t know much about him. He was small and quiet, not the type of person who stands out too much…that was about all the impression I had of him. Kuroi didn’t show up at all, but even though they were both absent, his absence seemed somehow different from Shimamura’s sick leave. Second period ended and then third period… Whenever we finished a class, some other teacher, like the head teacher for our grade or the guidance counselor, would peek into the classroom, confirming my suspicions. “Mr. Kuroi hasn’t shown up, has he?” What on earth is going on? What’s happening? We learned the answers during lunch. Yagisawa went to the staff room for some other matter, and while he was there, he heard about the situation. “Apparently, there was an inquiry made to the school by Kuroi’s mother,” Yagisawa reported. “An inquiry?” Isn’t that the opposite of usual? A student hasn’t come to school, so I would expect the school to make an inquiry to the kid’s home. Yagisawa saw me tilting my head in puzzlement and immediately continued. “She needed something and called her son’s cell phone, but there was no response at all. So she called here to ask if he had come to school like he’s supposed to.” I let out an involuntary gasp of surprise. “So that means that this morning, Kuroi left home headed for school? He didn’t take the day off?” “Seems that way.” “He headed for school, but he didn’t get here.” “Yeah. Apparently, he left home much later than usual. He must have overslept or something. After he flew out the door in a mad rush, his mother found something he had forgotten, and that’s why she called his cell phone… Anyway, that’s apparently what happened.” “So he didn’t come to school and went off somewhere else, maybe?” “That’s right.” Yagisawa nodded stiffly, scratching his long, scrunchy hair. “Maybe he got lost in the fog and couldn’t make it here? I doubt it.” “He could have had a fight with his parents and run away or something?” “I don’t know what things are like at the Kuroi house.” “Maybe he hates school and suddenly wanted to go somewhere far away?” “I’m not sure he’s the type to do something like that.” “But is he the type who would never do it?” “Oh, I don’t know. I hardly ever talked to the guy.” “Hmm,” I responded, suppressing the unsettling thoughts that threatened to rise up in my mind. Yagisawa said, “It seemed like the teachers were going to wait and see for now. His parents are probably trying to get in touch with any relatives’ or acquaintances’ houses he might have gone to, right?” “I hope they find him easily.” “If Kuroi isn’t back home by nightfall, then there’ll probably be a big fuss.” “Probably, yeah.” The two of us were taking our lunch on the roof of Building C. The fog had thinned considerably, and the dark, cloudy sky was visible when we looked up. The concrete underfoot was wet with moisture thanks to the fog… We hadn’t been able to find a place to sit down, so both of us were leaning gently against the iron railing that surrounded the rooftop, eating our lunch standing up. I had a sandwich that Auntie Sayuri had made for me. Yagisawa had two rice balls that he’d bought at a convenience store. “By the way, about Ms. Kanbayashi…,” Yagisawa started. “Obviously, she’s been out since Monday, but apparently, no one knows exactly why.” When I heard that, I let out another gasp of surprise. “Huh? How do you know that?” “Oh, I just happened to overhear the teachers talking about it, so…” “You were eavesdropping?” “I just heard them, that’s all. I wasn’t standing around on purpose or hiding in a dark corner or anything.” “Well, it doesn’t matter to me.” The discomfort I had been feeling since the previous day was back. Along with the vague anxiety. Deliberately shutting out both feelings, I urged Yagisawa to continue. “So?” “It sounds like they haven’t been able to get in touch with her since Monday. She doesn’t answer when they call. They left messages, but there hasn’t been any response.” Yagisawa let out a short sigh. “At first, the other teachers figured that she was probably laid up sick, but then she didn’t come in the next day, either. On top of that, they haven’t been able to contact her.” “That goes for today, too?” “Yeah. It’s definitely strange, so now they’re saying someone ought to go to her house and check on her. I heard them discussing it…” “When you were eavesdropping, right.” This time, Yagisawa didn’t contradict me. He turned around and put his chest up against the railing. A tepid breeze blew through, ruffling his long hair and making it stand on end. “Hey, Sou?” Yagisawa turned toward me, not bothering to fix his ruffled hair. “What do you think about all this…?” But when he asked me that, I wanted to leave immediately. I didn’t know how to answer, even if he asked. And I didn’t want to answer, either. However— This series of events since Monday… Ms. Kanbayashi. Shimamura. And now Kuroi. Each day, one person has stopped coming to school. Each day, one person has disappeared from our classroom. What is going on? What does it mean? Is it just a coincidence? Or is there some meaning behind it? And if there is, then what on earth could it be…? …Ah, no. There’s no need for alarm. I don’t have to worry. This year’s “phenomenon” is over. The “accidents” have stopped. My conviction on this point was unwavering. I knew I couldn’t afford to let it waver. I went to bed early that night, but I couldn’t get to sleep. That hadn’t happened for a long time. As I was puzzling over whether or not I should take the medicine that Dr. Usui had prescribed for me, I fell into a shallow slumber. As I was dozing, I had a dream. The fog… A bluish-white fog hung over everything. The fog was cold, and whenever I took a breath, it penetrated deep into my lungs. It was icy, freezing; I was shivering… I suddenly realized that something was approaching me through the fog. A mysterious gray figure. I could just barely tell that it was in the shape of a human, but not whether it was actually a person. It multiplied, from one figure to two, from two to three…increasing in number as I watched. Growing frightened, I tried to run away. But by then, the multiplied figures had already completely surrounded me. I was cold, freezing, and shivering from fear on top of that. As I stood there trembling, I found myself unable to take even one step away from that spot. That was my nightmare. 6 Thursday, September 6. Ms. Kanbayashi didn’t come in again. As usual, Mr. Tsubouchi showed up and announced her absence during the morning homeroom, but his voice was lower and heavier than it had been before, and he seemed to enunciate his words poorly. After what Yagisawa had told me the day before, I assumed there might be some information forthcoming, but there was nothing. I was concerned to see Mr. Tsubouchi wearing a puzzled expression for some reason as he looked around the classroom… Shimamura is absent again today. This is the third day, huh? I hadn’t seen Kuroi, either. I wonder if they figured out where he went yesterday? Did he go back home? Like Yagisawa, I don’t know what the situation is like at the Kuroi house, but if he’s still missing, any normal family would be in an uproar. I’m sure they’re probably freaking out. “Shimamura’s still feeling bad, huh?” “Her cold must have gotten worse.” “I hope she’s okay.” During lunchtime, I overheard the conversation between Kusakabe and the other girls. Hazumi was with them, too, but I didn’t hear her voice. “I don’t think Shimamura has a cell phone, does she?” “I called her house last night. Her mom answered and said, ‘Sorry for worrying you.’ But her mom’s voice didn’t sound very good, either.” “Hmm. I wonder if she’s really all right?” “Should we go visit her?” “Mm, but…” …A feeling of discomfort came over me. Along with a vague anxiety. These sensations that had been plaguing me for the past two days were now spreading through the whole classroom. That’s how it seemed to me. None of the other students was talking about Kuroi, but during lunch, Yagisawa had gone to find out some new information. He had probably been eavesdropping by the staff room again. “So about Kuroi, they still don’t know where he is.” “He didn’t go home?” “Looks that way.” “Has the family notified the police?” “I don’t know. I’m sure they’ve reported him missing. Unless he ran away, there’s a chance it might be kidnapping or something.” “Kidnapping…no way.” “At any rate, the teachers were kind of, like, rushing around. They’re definitely more worked up than they were yesterday.” Just like yesterday’s lunch, the two of us were up on the roof of Building C. I was eating a boxed lunch that Auntie Sayuri had made for me, and Yagisawa had a sandwich that he said he bought at a convenience store… This, too, was like the day before. “What about Ms. Kanbayashi?” I asked. “You said the teachers were going to check on her, right? I wonder how that went?” “Ah, about that.” Yagisawa frowned pointedly. “I didn’t hear exactly, but it seems like something definitely wasn’t right.” “Meaning what?” “I don’t know the specifics.” “You didn’t try asking someone?” “No, I tried very hard to ask. I cornered Mr. Wada, the Japanese teacher. But he got all flustered and wouldn’t answer me… He looked troubled. It was obvious that he wasn’t going to say anything then.” “…How strange.” “It was totally weird. With him acting like that, I can’t help but imagine the worst.” “The worst…” “Yeah.” “Which would be…?” Neither of us could say the next part out loud. I’m sure that neither of us wanted to say it at all. There was no fog like there had been the day before, and we could look out over the whole neighborhood from the roof. We could even see the flow of the Yomiyama River, but the sky wasn’t a nice, clear autumn vista. Light-gray clouds covered the whole sky in a gloomy overcast, even obscuring the position of the sun. The breeze that occasionally blew past was unpleasantly tepid, hot and humid with the long, lingering heat of summer. Suddenly, crows called out overhead. Kaaah, kaaah! I glanced up toward the sound of their cries, and then Yagisawa and I instinctively looked at each other, but neither of us said a thing. It was probably more accurate to say that we couldn’t say a thing. 7 Extended homeroom in sixth period on Thursday. We’re probably going to get a substitute teacher soon. Mr. Tsubouchi or someone else… Just as I was thinking that, someone unexpected entered the classroom, a little bit after the bell rang. Dressed in a black shirt and black pants with a black jacket…in full black despite the season, it was the librarian for the secondary library, Mr. Chibiki. There was no doubt that all the students were perplexed about why he was subbing. I was the same, but my bewilderment soon transformed into nervousness. I stared straight at the teacher’s podium and braced myself. “My name is Chibiki. I’ve seen most of your faces before, so I’m sure that most of you also know who I am.” He stood with both hands on the lectern and looked around the classroom, seeming to deliberately take his time. As he was doing that, Mr. Chibiki himself looked like he was working to keep his emotions in check. That was the sense I got. “First,” he said, putting a finger to his glasses frame. He stayed that way, silent, for two or three more seconds, then abruptly informed us, “I have to make an unfortunate announcement. Yesterday, we learned that your homeroom teacher, Ms. Kanbayashi, who has been absent since Monday, passed away in her home.” It was shocking to hear, but strangely, in the moment, it was not a big surprise. It was probably because…yes, because I had been nursing premonitions of a situation like this for days, even before Yagisawa had said that he couldn’t “help but imagine the worst.” The other students in the classroom had different reactions. There were several who let out cries of grief as soon as they heard the news and some who covered their faces with both hands. Other students stayed looking straight ahead, overcome with surprise, or silently shook their heads left to right… “How?” someone asked. “What does that mean?” “Let me explain,” Mr. Chibiki answered in a calm voice. “By rights, I probably should have told you first thing this morning, but…this is hard on us teachers, too. We needed time to discuss certain things, like how to deal with the situation and how to tell you students. And so I’m here, telling you now. I think it’s best to share with you all the facts. I don’t want any half-baked rumors spreading around.” It turned out that they hadn’t been able to reach Ms. Kanbayashi since the start of the week. And then the previous night, some teachers had volunteered to go and check in on her…that much was as I had heard from Yagisawa a day ago. Ms. Kanbayashi’s house was in a place called Asamidai, where she lived alone in an old stand-alone home. The visiting teachers had rung the bell at the front door, but no one came out. They tried calling, and there was no answer. But they could see a bit of light in the windows, which they couldn’t help but conclude was strange. “They consulted with the police and got an officer to come out to the house as a witness, then searched inside. Shortly after entering, they discovered Ms. Kanbayashi’s body. In the washroom. Sitting in the bath…” No one moved a muscle, and the classroom was deadly silent. Without letting any unnecessary emotion show on his face, Mr. Chibiki continued his explanation. “The police investigation concluded that the cause of death was drowning. She probably died on Sunday night. An empty wine bottle and glass had been left behind on the living room table, so they think she took a bath after drinking the wine and fell asleep. Then, tragically, she drowned.” The circumstances corresponded to a so-called “accidental death,” and the police didn’t find anything criminal about it. No kind of note or will was discovered, suggesting that it hadn’t been suicide. An unexpected accident, caused by bathing after drinking. Not a rare story at all, broadly speaking. “It’s a fact that Ms. Kanbayashi hadn’t been in very good health lately, so when she was absent from school without calling in at the start of this week, everyone thought that was the reason. The ‘accidents’ had stopped, and you’d safely started the second semester… We figured the exhaustion that had accumulated in her mind and body had caught up to her all at once. I don’t know how much of a taste for alcohol she had normally, but I think it’s possible that this was an unfortunate accident, a result of an understandable mistake. With that thought, all we can do is pray for her soul’s repose.” Mr. Chibiki finished speaking and sighed deeply. As if prompted by this, other sighs escaped here and there throughout the classroom. I heard several of the girls start to sob. We sat like that for some time, no one saying anything. “Can I ask a question?” Finally, a student raised her hand. It was Etou. “Um…did Ms. Kanbayashi die because of the ‘calamity’?” “A very reasonable question,” Mr. Chibiki replied. He paused for a while with a finger on his glasses frame again, but he didn’t seem flustered. He looked to me like he was reviewing in his head an answer that he had prepared. “If I was to express my thoughts at present…” He paused here again, then said, “I think this is different. This is not the ‘calamity.’” “Really?” Etou followed up. “Is that true?” “The ‘extra person’ disappeared at some point in July, and this year’s ‘phenomenon’ ended. The ‘accidents’ stopped, too. There wasn’t a single victim in August, which is the best proof of all. Based on those facts, Ms. Kanbayashi’s misfortune was most likely a simple accidental death, with no relation to the ‘calamity.’ If not, it doesn’t make sense.” Mr. Chibiki spoke without hesitation, but his line of sight was not directed toward Etou, who had asked the question. Instead, he was staring at a point in midair in the middle of the classroom. It seemed to me that his assertion, If not, it doesn’t make sense, was probably more of an attempt to convince himself than us students. However, at that moment, honestly, I agreed with Mr. Chibiki. The “phenomenon” was over, and the “accidents” had stopped. So Ms. Kanbayashi’s death was something different. That didn’t change the fact that it was a sad turn of events, but in the end, it was nothing more than an “ordinary death,” the type that could happen anywhere in the world. That was all I could think. So… 8 “For the time being, I will be acting as your homeroom teacher in place of Ms. Kanbayashi. I thought maybe I should tell you that first, but when I considered the order of information, that didn’t seem right…” After his announcement, Mr. Chibiki changed the tone of his voice and introduced himself to us, a little late. “My name is Tatsuji Chibiki. My main job is working as the head of the secondary library, but I do hold a middle school teacher’s license, so I accepted an emergency request from the principal to cover this class. I’m sure that some of you are also aware that twenty-nine years ago—the year it all started—I was a social studies teacher here, as well as the homeroom teacher for Grade 3 Class 3. Considering all that, I couldn’t possibly turn down the request.” Mr. Chibiki was speaking a little less formally than he had been before, but his demeanor seemed quite different compared to when he’d been in the library room in Building Zero. It was difficult to explain, but I could tell that he was very nervous standing at the podium during homeroom for Grade 3 Class 3. I recalled that he hadn’t taught for many years. “In the end, I’m just a temporary ‘substitute’ responding to an emergency situation, so I’m sure I’ll be imperfect in many ways. In that regard, well, I’d like you to go easy on me. But if there’s anything troubling you, don’t hesitate to come and talk to me. You’ve already got a social studies teacher, so I have no plans to take over that class. As for your science course, which Ms. Kanbayashi was teaching, the administration is supposed to bring someone in to help with that soon…” When he had more or less finished going through all the procedural stuff required after assuming his role as “substitute homeroom teacher,” Mr. Chibiki left the lectern and leaned up against the wall beside the blackboard. “Well then.” He was holding the attendance book in his hands. He opened it and looked at each seated student’s face in turn. “This girl Shimamura is out sick, huh?” he muttered, furrowing his brow. “Today’s the third day…hmm.” What about Kuroi? I wondered. Surely, Mr. Chibiki should have some grasp on that situation. “As for Kuroi, who has been absent since yesterday,” he started, almost as if my thoughts had been transmitted directly to him. “You’ve probably already heard, but it sounds like he did not go home last night. His parents have submitted a notice to the police and are very worried, but…yes, I’m sure he’s all right. He’ll probably come back suddenly tonight or something. The ‘accidents’ have already stopped. So I don’t think we need to be that alarmed.” But— I almost spoke up, despite my better judgment, but I restrained myself. I could understand Mr. Chibiki’s way of thinking and the attitude he was effecting here and now perfectly well, and I, too, wanted to think the same thing. I should have been on the same page as him. However, no matter how much I tried to repudiate the idea with logic, anxiety welled up from somewhere inside me. No matter how strongly I tried to deny the idea and go around the wall of fear in my heart, or climb over that wall, or open a hole in it to escape, there was something closing in on me… I suddenly recalled the gray figures in the mist from my nightmare the previous night, and before I knew it, I was trembling with rage. “Hmm? Are you all right, Hiratsuka?” Mr. Chibiki looked at me with a concerned expression, maybe because he had realized the state I was in. “…Yes.” I deliberately recalled the image of Izumi falling into the muddy flow of the Yomiyama River. Desperately warding off the shadowy figures squirming around in my mind by doing so, I just barely managed to answer: “I’m fine, sir.” 9 There was a lone child coming toward me. From the looks of him, he was in his third or fourth year of elementary school, a petite little boy. He wore a yellow polo shirt, jeans, and a white baseball cap. There was quite a distance between us, and he was looking down as he walked, so I couldn’t make out his face. He didn’t look to be wearing a backpack, so he had probably gone home after school and then come out again. The time was about 4:30 in the afternoon. Since it was early September, sunset was still a long way off. But the clouds had been growing thicker all afternoon, making everything look dreary. I had left school a little while ago and was on my way home. With me was Yagisawa, as well as the countermeasures officers, Etou and Tajimi. All four of us had left the classroom together. “I know that’s what Mr. Chibiki said, but I wonder if it’s really true? Ms. Kanbayashi dying now is just kind of, it’s a little, you know…,” Tajimi said with a long face. Tajimi was much taller and more solidly built than I was. At first glance, he looked tough. But in fact, he was a good-humored, sociable guy, if perhaps a little flaky. As far as “countermeasures officers” were concerned, the girls—Etou, and of course Izumi, who had formerly been one of them—seemed more dependable than he was. “I think we can trust what Mr. Chibiki said,” Etou replied. “He’s the person at school who’s been observing the ‘phenomenon’ for the longest. If there was still any risk, he would have refused to be our homeroom teacher, even if they ordered him to, don’t you think? He wouldn’t go out of his way to become a ‘member of Grade 3 Class 3’…right?” Etou looked at me. “Well…yeah. I’m sure that’s true.” I nodded, but I was aware that I hadn’t given a very clear answer. Somehow or other, I felt it would be out of character for Mr. Chibiki to make that kind of calculation—to accept the job only because it was safe, because there was no risk. Be that as it may, it wasn’t like I particularly wanted to consider the possibility that there was still a risk from the “calamity” facing Grade 3 Class 3 now, either. I didn’t want to dwell on that at all. “It’s okay,” I remarked. “Ms. Kanbayashi’s death was the result of an unfortunate accident, a coincidence. Shimamura’s absence is from her cold getting worse. It’s not very unusual that someone would be out sick for three days.” In fact, I, too, had been laid up for several days with a summer cold at the end of July, and that had been totally disconnected with the “calamity.” “If we’re concerned about her being ill, then we ought to be even more worried about Makise, who’s been hospitalized this whole time,” said Etou. I nodded. “Yeah, for sure.” “I’d like to agree with Sou, too,” Yagisawa said frankly, “but the thing with Kuroi is still bugging me. But you know, I guess we can’t help getting worked up at this point.” “Yeah.” “Like Mr. Chibiki said, there’s no problem so long as he shows up at his house tonight, but I wonder if that’ll happen. By the way, Tajimi?” “What?” “My term of office as class rep only lasts until the end of this month. I feel like I’ve done my duty, so do you wanna take over for the rest of the semester?” We started for home, continuing this kind of back-and-forth as we did. I went out through the main gate and walked over to a different bus lane than I would have used if I’d left school at the usual time, accompanied by my three classmates. The four of us were walking in a line down the sidewalk on the right side of the two-lane road that had sidewalks provided on both sides…and that’s where it happened. A lone child walked toward us from up ahead on that same sidewalk. Absorbed in conversation, he didn’t catch my attention at first. Before long, the distance between us closed, and the boy stopped walking and looked up at us. I glanced down at his face, and then— I was suddenly seized by a peculiar sensation. The brownish hair. The fair, docile-looking features. The vaguely lonesome expression. …Ah, what the heck is this? This child, his face… He looks like me? He does. Wait, in fact— It was me; that was how I’d looked when I was in elementary school several years ago. From the time when I was in Hinami, going back and forth to Lakeshore Manor. That version of me had, for some reason, suddenly appeared before my eyes. I was captivated by the strange phantom… …It can’t be. This—this feeling… It was like my foothold on “reality” suddenly started to warp and weaken. Like the contours of the “world” started to slowly dissolve. In the midst of all that, “my” consciousness stretched and split in two, and one part seemed to leave my physical body… It can’t be! I shook my head. The sensation made me feel as if I was losing myself. The self of three years ago, of that summer… Ah, I see, this is probably some sort of aftereffect of the strange experience I had back then, isn’t it? This kid’s face doesn’t actually resemble me that closely. To say nothing of how ridiculous it would be for my past self to appear before my eyes… On the other hand… When the child looked at us, he tilted his head slightly, as if he had something to say. But in the end, he turned away without saying a word. And then— I don’t know what he was thinking, but he continued to turn, then abruptly jumped out into the road. We all gasped, surprised by his sudden movement. Just then, a single black compact car sped toward us. The boy was facing the other direction, and he didn’t seem to notice the vehicle at all. “Watch out!” “Look out!” Etou and Yagisawa shouted at him simultaneously. The car blew a long warning on its horn. Luckily, it missed hitting the boy by a hairbreadth, and he finished crossing the street. It drove off without stopping. “Whew, that was close!” Yagisawa sighed again, then shouted at the kid on the other side, “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” “Four middle schoolers were walking toward him, filling up the entire width of the sidewalk, so he probably decided to cross over to the other side on the spur of the moment,” Tajimi opined. “Sure, but still…” Yagisawa frowned. Etou looked seriously relieved. As for me, I was still watching the kid, unable to shake the strange feeling from earlier. When Yagisawa had shouted at him to watch where he was going, the boy had glanced back briefly but hadn’t reacted beyond that before starting off down the opposite sidewalk. However, right at that very moment— Something unthinkable happened. I don’t believe there was any kind of forewarning. At least, not that I picked up on. What I did sense was a sudden, strange, violent “noise” that gave me no time to react. I didn’t even have time to wonder what it was before— A second sound, even more violent. It was literally ear-splitting. And the child’s figure disappeared instantly. At least, that’s how it appeared. Actually, rather than “disappearing,” he was erased. Snuffed out from view by the huge object that came crashing down at that exact moment. What on earth was that? What just happened? I couldn’t comprehend it right away. All I knew was that some big, heavy object had fallen onto the opposite sidewalk and that the boy who had been walking down it was now underneath. Yagisawa and Tajimi had covered their ears with both hands against the sound, so loud that its reverberations could be felt through the ground. Etou was hiding her eyes. I wasn’t able to react in either way; I just stood there, stock-still, overcome with surprise. The fallen object looked like some sort of concrete mass—I could see through the awful swirling dust that it had steel rods and metal plates embedded in it. Its structure had crumbled with the impact of the fall, and a forest of twisted reddish-brown stalks of rebar was sticking out of it. This is… I looked up and realized that the sidewalk ran right in front of some kind of construction site. It was either a remodeling job or the demolition of a building many stories tall. The whole outside of the building was covered with protective sheets and panels, but in the end, they hadn’t done their job. It wasn’t clear what had caused the concrete to come loose. Some kind of accident had probably occurred near the upper floors of the building. An outer wall, or perhaps a part like a veranda, must have completely crumbled and plummeted to the ground, dragging the construction scaffolding that was wrapped around the edifice with it as it went. And that boy just happened to be standing in the exact spot where it landed… The kid wasn’t “erased” so much as crushed before he could realize that something was wrong and get out of the way. He didn’t even have time to cry out. “What happened to that kid?” Etou asked, on the verge of tears. “Hey, what happened to him? What was that?” “He must be a goner under all that,” Yagisawa answered her in a trembling voice. Tajimi still had his hands over his ears and was shaking his head left to right. “A goner? He died?” “We don’t know yet, but…probably.” “We’ve got to help him!” “Ah…no, it would be dangerous to approach now. Something else might fall.” “But—” “More importantly, someone call the police and an ambulance!” “Oh, uh, right.” The debris had spread out into the roadway, so it was starting to obstruct traffic. I heard the sound of sudden braking. The blaring of car horns. People stopped their vehicles to get out. There were others who noticed an accident had occurred and gathered nearby. Amid all the commotion, I separated from the other three and crossed the road by myself to approach the scene. I think I was pulled into action by that part of my consciousness that had split off and separated from my physical body… No, actually, I don’t know why I did it. All I know for sure is that in that moment, I was not in my right mind. I’m not even sure whether I was thinking about what I should do or what I wanted to do. It felt almost like the movement of a sleepwalker. “Hey, Sou, don’t!” “It’s dangerous!” I kept on walking, shooting a backward glance at Yagisawa and the others as they shouted after me, and approached the tragic scene. The child had looked to be completely buried under the concrete, but actually, his head and right hand had escaped being crushed. His baseball cap had fallen off and was lying nearby. He was facedown on the pavement, his right hand stretched out in front of him. “Uuuh…u, unnn…” There came a faint, almost inaudible, groan. He’s still breathing. He’s alive! As soon as I realized, I dashed over to him. However, the moment I got in close, something terrible happened right before my eyes—it could only be described as an act of the devil. A piece of iron pipe came tumbling down from above. Of all the places it could have fallen, it struck the boy, who was still just barely breathing. In a flash, it pierced the back of his head and went all the way through… A spray of blood doused the sidewalk. “Aaaah!” A sudden wave of raw terror swelled up inside me, and I let out a tremendous scream. “Aaaahhhhhh!” I yelled so loud, it felt like my throat would split open. All coherent thoughts vanished from my mind. I was absolutely terrified and repulsed… I lost control and kept howling. 10 Yuuji Tanaka. That evening, I learned the name of the dead boy. He was nine years old. A student at Third Yomiyama Elementary School. The accident was reported on TV, during the local news. Auntie Sayuri was with me in the living room, where the TV sat, when the news aired. When she saw the report on the tragic incident, my aunt turned to me with surprise and grief in her voice. “Isn’t that close to your school?” I couldn’t bring myself to answer her. I stood up quietly from my chair and left the room. That evening, after witnessing the accident, I had returned home alone. I practically fled from the scene. The shock had been too much, and I couldn’t think clearly—or more like I had fallen into a state where I was refusing to think. It was as though the brain functions that I needed to produce thought had frozen in place. I persisted in that stupor even after getting home. It wasn’t just my thoughts; it felt like my emotions were paralyzed as well. I couldn’t feel anything, not even sympathy for the poor child who had died. Sensing something was off with me, Auntie Sayuri asked with concern, “Did something happen?” But the only answer I could give was, “No, nothing.” I couldn’t work up the energy to answer a phone call to my cell from Yagisawa, either. When I learned the boy’s name from the news, I finally began to recover a little bit of brain function. As the feeling was coming back— Yuuji Tanaka. I tried murmuring his name in my mind. Yuuji Tanaka. Yuuji… Something about it made me bristle, but my brain was still refusing to work. To be sure, “Tanaka” was a common surname, but— Late that night, Yagisawa called me for the umpteenth time. I really couldn’t ignore him any longer, so I gingerly pressed the answer button. “Oh, you finally picked up. Are you okay?” “Ah…yeah.” “You hardly ever go home without saying anything. I was worried.” “Sorry.” “Did you watch the news? That elementary schooler, his name was Yuuji Tanaka…” “I saw that.” “There’s a guy named Tanaka in our class, right?” “…………” “Tanaka” is a really common surname, so I’m sure that… “Shinichi Tanaka, he’s in the table tennis club. I haven’t spent much time with the guy, but I was worried, so I called him up. And…” Yagisawa paused. He seemed to be waiting for my response, but I didn’t say anything. In my mind, I was repeating, No way, no way, but I couldn’t get the words out. “And I found out that Yuuji Tanaka is Shinichi Tanaka’s younger brother,” he told me. “I’m not clear on the exact details, but apparently, Yuuji was headed toward North Yomi at the time to meet up with his big brother, who was still at school doing club activities.” “No way.” Finally, my voice came out. It was a frail, hoarse sound. “It can’t be.” “That boy was a ‘related individual’ to someone in Grade 3 Class 3.” “It can’t be…but—” “But the ‘calamity’ stopped, right?” “Yeah.” “So what the hell was that? Was it just an ordinary accident, like in Ms. Kanbayashi’s case?” Yagisawa asked pointedly. His voice trembled. I was stumped for an answer. My brain wasn’t working yet, and my emotions were still leaden… After a silence of several seconds, I finally managed to choke out a simple response: “I don’t know.” 11 “First, I have to make an unfortunate announcement.” Friday, September 7. During morning homeroom, Mr. Chibiki hit us with the same words he had used the day before. I steeled myself, certain that he was going to inform us that Shinichi Tanaka’s little brother had expired in an accident, but contrary to my expectation, he revealed something different. “A call just came to the school a little while ago. It only happened a few hours ago, so I don’t think you all know yet.” Something that happened a few hours ago? What on earth could that be? Mr. Chibiki was wearing a particularly grim expression. I had a very bad feeling about what he was going to say. My breath caught in my throat. For a moment, a shudder went through the air inside the classroom like a wave, but then the room fell silent. With an even grimmer expression, in a strained tone, Mr. Chibiki made the following announcement. “It seems that Miss Shimamura, who has been out sick for a while, passed away early this morning.” In a sudden reversal from the silence, a terrific uproar spread through the class. There were even more screams than there had been when we’d learned of Ms. Kanbayashi’s death yesterday. Even I let out a shocked, “Huh?” “No way!” The girl shouting in a tearful voice was Kusakabe. “Shimamura? Shimamura’s dead?” Besides her outburst, I could hear a bewildered voice questioning, “Why? Why?” It was Hazumi. From her seat in the very back of the row closest to the window, she was staring straight forward, her head pressed between both hands and her eyes fixed on nothing. The hollowness in her gaze suddenly hit me. As he observed his students’ reactions, Mr. Chibiki put both elbows down on the podium, then put his forehead in his hands. “Her condition probably took a sudden turn for the worse, but…ah, but we just don’t know all the specifics yet.” After shaking his head slowly side to side, he straightened himself up and continued. “It’s hard for me to tell you not to be too shaken up. Everyone, I’d like you to try to remain as calm as possible. That’s all I can say at the moment.” 12 Apparently, something strange had happened the night before. Shimamura had been sick for some time and hadn’t been to school since Tuesday, but it hadn’t seemed like much more than an ordinary flu, so her family hadn’t been especially worried. Everyone had expected that she would quickly recover with a little over-the-counter cold medicine and some bedrest. On the contrary, though her condition hadn’t seemed to get any worse, she hadn’t taken an easy turn for the better, either. She still had a high fever three days later, on Thursday, and was suffering from headaches and fatigue. Then that night— Shimamura’s mother had gone to her bedroom to check in on her daughter and noticed that she was sitting up in bed, repeating something to herself in a daze. When her mother had asked what was wrong, Shimamura, still out of it, hadn’t been able to answer coherently. Fearing that her daughter was delirious from fever, her mother lulled her to sleep, watched over her for a while, then left the room. A little after two in the morning, Shimamura’s mother had heard a strange noise from her daughter’s bedroom. When she had gone in to investigate, she’d found that Shimamura had gotten out of bed and was standing in front of the built-in closet, beating on the doors with both hands. She struck them several times, then opened them, immediately closed them, then struck them again… She had repeated this nonsensical sequence of actions over and over in the same dazed state as before. Shimamura’s mother had found the behavior concerning, but once she had guided her daughter back to bed, the girl had fallen into a tranquil slumber. She hadn’t even looked particularly ill. Even so, her mother once again watched over her daughter for a little while, then left the room, but— About two hours after that, a little past four in the morning, just before dawn, her parents heard a terrible shriek, followed by some strange noises. Shimamura’s bedroom was on the second floor of a stand-alone family home. The room led onto a veranda. Shimamura had gone out onto it, climbed over the railing, and leaped into the air—she’d jumped off. A wall topped with sharp steel spikes surrounded the family’s property. After landing on the wall, one of the spikes on it pierced her throat as she came down. By the time Shimamura’s parents had gotten to her, she’d already been bleeding out. Ultimately, she had drawn her last breath in the ambulance on the way to the emergency room. All this I learned from Mr. Chibiki later on, during lunch break. Apparently, the school had only been informed of her passing during a call this morning. “If she jumped off herself…does that mean it was a suicide?” He shook his head slightly at my naive question. “No. The ongoing theory is that it was not a suicide. They haven’t found any sort of note. And she hadn’t shown any indication whatsoever that would make her parents worry she was at risk…so…” As he spoke, he alternated between glancing at our faces. We were in the secondary library. Yagisawa was beside me. As soon as lunch had started, the two of us sought out the librarian, and eventually we arrived at his room on the first floor of Building Zero. “It wasn’t suicide. And of course, she didn’t die of disease. It was probably some kind of accident,” he suggested. “An accident?” Yagisawa grumbled. “Even if it was…” “A possible cause is delirium resulting from virus-induced acute encephalopathy, which led to a fall. It could be something like that.” Virus-induced acute encephalopathy. Mr. Chibiki laid it out to Yagisawa and me. The unfamiliar words had left us bewildered. “It seems like encephalopathy has been making the news lately, but its effects aren’t limited to influenza. Infections from all sorts of other viruses can also produce acute encephalopathy. There are still lots of things we aren’t sure about it, but we do know that it can manifest a wide range of symptoms, including strange behaviors, like speaking in a different voice or doing things that don’t make sense. They believe that Shimamura’s case may fit the bill.” All I could do was nod along silently. Yagisawa was the same. After saying that much, Mr. Chibiki stopped talking, letting out a long sigh as he ruffled his unkempt, graying hair. “Um…” I spoke up after a short silence. “Mr. Chibiki…sir—” “You don’t need to start with the formality.” “Ah, okay.” “So, what is it?” “Um, well, during homeroom this morning, you only made an announcement about Shimamura, but you must know about what happened with Tanaka, who’s also out today, right?” “Mm,” Mr. Chibiki responded, wearily running his hand through his hair again. “You mean about how his younger brother died in an accident yesterday, right? Tanaka contacted the school about taking bereavement leave.” “Why didn’t you mention it this morning?” “That’s something that will get around no matter what I do, so I wanted to make the news easier to handle, even just a little. Do you think it would have been better to break everything to them at once?” “Ah…I guess I do.” The scenes from the accident the evening before threatened to fill my mind again, so I squeezed my eyes tightly shut to keep them from coming back. The last thing I needed was to remember that all over again. I was already just barely hanging on by a thread. “So,” I then asked Mr. Chibiki, “what’s your take on this? Tanaka’s little brother and Shimamura, two ‘related individuals’ in a row have… Wait, if we include Ms. Kanbayashi, that makes three. Is this…?” “Is it the ‘calamity,’ you’re wondering?” He stared pointedly at me, a deep vertical crease dividing his brow. “I’m not sure,” I responded. “This year’s ‘casualty’ ended in July, so the ‘accidents’ should have already stopped. So…ah, but…” Just then, a telephone that was sitting on the corner of the counter began to ring. Mr. Chibiki turned his back on us, faced the counter, and picked up the receiver. “Secondary library… Yes. This is Chibiki.” It seemed to be an internal call. I couldn’t tell who was calling, but they sounded like another teacher. “…Is that so?” His voice was low as he answered. I thought I could hear a slight tremor in it. “…Understood. Thank you. I’ll come right away…yes. Bye.” He hung up and took a deep breath, heaving his shoulders while he was still looking away from us. Then he turned back around to face us and said, “I have to go to the staff room, so I’m closing the library.” He took another big breath. He looked like he was trying his hardest to get his emotions under control. “Um, did something—?” Cutting off the question I was starting to ask, Mr. Chibiki told us the news. “That was a notice that Kuroi’s corpse was discovered. Apparently, someone found it this morning at the city waste processing plant.”