Shiroshi looked like an abandoned child, and Seiji felt his chest constrict.
“Um, Shiro—?”
But just as he was about to call to him, Shiroshi started walking, as if to cut him off. They crossed the lounge, then took the elevator at its back to the platform.
It was cold and very quiet.
The platform was usually jammed with railway fans waiting for their favorite train, but due to the fog, it was nearly empty. The night mist soundlessly stroked Seiji’s cheeks; it was so frigid, it hurt.
“Ah, that must be our train,” he said.
As if in response, a light gust of wind swept the veil of mist away.
Like a phantom, an eight-car train drawn by a diesel engine appeared. Its body had been painted the deep blue of the night sky, then polished to a mirror shine. One gold stripe ran down its side, and an emblem with a moon and stars motif held the train’s name in Latin script.
The Blue Magic Lantern.
“We were in Car Three, weren’t we?” asked Seiji.
“Oh, and it’s right in front of us.”
Shiroshi started up the car’s brass-colored steps.
“Um, Shiroshi?” Seiji’s voice cracked with nerves, but he finally managed to get the words out. “I, uh, I’m not sure how to put this… I think it would be a good idea to sit down and talk things out with Takamura.”
“…Why is that?”
“I think you’re angry and hurt because you did trust him. I mean, you only call somebody a traitor if they were on your side to begin with, you know?” To Seiji, the two of them had seemed to truly trust each other. If even part of that had been real… “Frankly, I have no idea what he’s thinking, but that means it would be better to ask him straight out now, while you still can. That’s something I couldn’t do, so…” He clenched his fists tightly, crushing the word regret in them, trying hard not to visualize the corpse in the bathroom.
Turning back, Shiroshi narrowed his eyes, as if he were looking at something dazzling. “You really are you, Seiji.” As usual, he seemed to feel the words deeply. “To be honest, I think mine is the more human reaction. He forced a crushing amount of debt onto you, then committed suicide. Continuing to call someone ‘a friend’ after a betrayal like that is lunacy.” Then he smiled, though there was a trace of loneliness in it. “However, I would like to learn from your example. It may be impossible for me, but at any rate, let’s discuss that later. We have less than ten minutes left before departure.”
“R-right, sorry.”
Hastily, Seiji followed Shiroshi up the stairs.
The moment he stepped into the train, he felt the air around him change. It wasn’t the heating system but a more abstract sense that something wasn’t right. It was almost as if they’d wandered from reality into fiction.
“Don’t tell me. That wasn’t another barrier, wasn’t it?”
“I fear that’s extremely likely.” Shiroshi held up his smartphone. Its display showed the main screen. There was no signal whatsoever.
“…Can we go home?” Seiji asked, struck by the urge to crouch down and hug his knees.
“Frankly, I would like to do so as well. If it weren’t for the hostages, that is.” Shiroshi’s gaze had grown distant.
“W-well, we do have a sort of countermeasure this time.” Seiji tapped the cuff on his right ear with a fingertip. Shiroshi had gotten the item custom-made for tonight, but to be honest, Seiji thought it looked awful on him.
“Heh-heh. Yes, although the ‘sort of’ bit is rather sad.”
Lamenting the situation’s stubborn refusal to go their way, the two of them nevertheless trudged through the automatic glass door and into the car. With only two compartments per carriage, there was no way to get lost, and they promptly arrived at Room 302. Seiji took out the key he’d been given, then noticed that there was a peephole, but no spot to insert a key. Hm…
“Oh, while it appears to be an antique key, I believe it’s electronic. There seems to be a sensor in the handle; try holding it over that.”
“You mean like this…? Hey, it opened.”
There was a click as the mechanism turned, unlocking the door.
“Um, ’scuse us.”
“It would be rather frightening if someone answered you.”
They stepped through the door, which swung inward. When Seiji turned to look, he saw the thumb-turn knob rotate halfway back all by itself. Apparently, it was an automatic lock.
So the light switch is… Oh, here.
Immediately, all the lights in the room came on.
“Whoa, it’s huge!”
There was a section of parquet flooring near the door, with an expanse of ivory carpet beyond it. To the left were two queen-size beds. On the right, there were two doors; the nearest one seemed to belong to a closet, while the one in back led to a bathroom. All the furnishings had been designed to look antique, including the pair of armchairs facing each other by the window.
It was as if they’d been abruptly transported from the train to a luxurious European hotel, and it made Seiji feel a bit dizzy. He felt that, if he wasn’t careful, he might get stuck in a dream, unable to find his way back to reality.
That said, this dream was almost certain to be a nightmare.
As they finished inspecting the room, they found name badges on the table, so Seiji decided to change clothes and put his on. Naturally, he changed into Beniko’s handmade three-piece suit.
Since Shiroshi didn’t need to change, he sat down in one of the armchairs by the window. In profile, his expression was unexpectedly grim, and Seiji felt his heart stir uneasily. Once again, it came down to a single question: What was going to happen on this train tonight?