Winter, 8 years ago, she became a shadow. On that silent morning, that girl first touched life.
Her house was snuggled halfway up the mountainside. Around it was an expanse of wilderness, void of civilization. It was so isolated that she couldn't even hope for a neighborhood friend to play with. Even going to school or going out to play were nothing more than inconveniences. But it was a home with beautiful water and beautiful stars, with small worries but great tranquility, with memories. Of course, that was only in the summer.
Winter in the mountains was always exceedingly cold, with mornings especially harsh. Her father would drive her all the way to the station, but the automobile's windows were always frosted over, and it would refuse to start unless the engine had been warmed up for tens of minutes prior.
"__, would you turn the key?"
It was a daily ritual of hers to go outside and turn on the car's engine while her father enjoyed his morning coffee. She opened her home's front door, then crossed the front garden while exhaling solid white breaths, finally reaching the antique sedan to open its door. Then, as always, she thrust the key into the keyhole and turned it fully around.
"Gururururu" the engine resounded, shaking.
And so ended the important job that the little girl took great pride in, having repeated it dozens of times.
"[ ]-----"
A shrill whine slipped through the air. She recognized that tiny, tiny voice, although different from human words, cry out in suffering.
A few minutes later...
As her father opened the hood of the car, there within they saw a single life. There, wedged tightly in that tiny box of a space between the creaking belt and the monstrous engine... the shapes of a mother cat and her two kittens were altogether too out of place. In the engine room, these three cats, as if trying to draw closer to each other, had curled together in a ball.
The mother cat had nothing above her neck. One of the kittens had been so entangled in the machinery that it showed no movement. It had surely died instantly. Half of the face of the remaining kitten was awash with red. It breathed "Hyuu... hyuu..." like a dog wet from the rain. Within that graveyard, the remaining kitten used what few minutes of life remained to earnestly, earnestly seek for its mother's breast, though half of that parent cat was now a mere slice of meat.
"Poor things..."
Father's mournful voice. Last night's freeze had been even colder than normal. After father returned yesterday, the cats must've been tempted by the heat and naively snuck in under the hood. They spent the night in the engine room, and were awakened by the turning of the belt. For an old 80s airtight car, it was likely a common story.
"It's OK. It's not __'s fault."
Father's voice was far away. The cat's fur was frayed to gray. Of course blood covered the mother cat and the kittens from where their bodies had been half shaved away, and through that blood... Ah. She saw the round contour of a skullbone. A small life, mottled in bloodstains. Had the kitten already lost its vision? Shivering, it singleminded curled into its dead mother's chest.
"......? Please wait, __!"
The girl picked the kitten up in her arms and ran deeper into the mountains to where her grandfather lived apart from them. Was she trembling with regret? Or had the simple grief of it all thrown her mind into disarray? Truth be told, even now I do not know. While trying her best to stem the tide of tears from flowing out, she burst into her grandfather's workshop. Her grandfather was a Magician. He could do anything. Of course the girl herself had never seen such a thing as "Magic." She knew such things to be the department of fantasies and fairy tells. Yet on some level, removed from such common sense, the girl knew that her grandfather was that kind of being.
That's why
she thought that surely her grandfather would help.
"To change the very fate of this kitten."
So said the indifferent voice of this Magician who made his home in a cave. "Please help!" She had pleaded. The Magician made no mention of the fact that if he could indeed do such a thing, it would be a great, world-changing event. Instead he merely, mechanically, granted the girl's selfish wish.
"......Ah."
Before she knew it, in her hands was a small body. Chilled fur. The warmth of life had long since departed. The tears she had commanded not to flow now spilled forth from her eyes. A vast regret spread out in her heart like an endless gray sky.
"It was futile after all. To return something to the way it was before."
Whatever had just happened, the girl could not understand. Even after the blank of the last ten minutes, whatever she had experienced, whoever she had met, whatever she had learned, she was as innocent as before. All that was certain was that a dead life could not be recovered, and...
"Umm... is someone over there?"
That day.
That mistake of a girl known as "Me" was born.
......Aah.
In the end, it's all quite nostalgic, yet long-awaited. Just a simple fairy tale from 8 years before now. Whatever Magic you use, you can't take it back. That first day, that first moment, when those girls first met.
With arrogance, avarice, and nothing but the ability to destroy, surely I am a wolf. With pride, I don't look back. I don't turn back. I don't even notice. If you become alone, I'm sorry. Either way your destiny is to be effortlessly exterminated by a rhythm of red.
1 ++ A Person Who Is Not Normal
It was a quiet morning. A glance from the bed revealed an ashen sky, smeared with shades of gray as if from a painting. The mercury of the thermometer was stricken at 6 degrees, a merciless temperature even for November. Breakfast time had long since passed; she awoke miserably from pangs of hunger. But despite all such dreariness, the mere fact that she could sleep so lazily made this morning a joyful one to this girl.
The clock's hand had passed 8 o'clock. Normally this would be a time of despair, a situation where she would be guaranteed late no matter what. But today was the school's establishment anniversary, and thus a vacation. Thanks to that, it was her first leisurely spent morning in a long while.
At a second glance, the sky remained a gloomy gunmetal hue, reminiscent more of dusk than of morning. Normally no one would call this a good morning. But to this girl who had stayed up till 5AM, the state of the weather was of little consequence. At this moment, sleepiness prevailed over everything. If she could doze off in bed, then it was a good morning. The affairs of the outside were none of Her Ladyship's concern. Everything on the other side of the window was Shut Out.
She closed the curtains. She closed her eyelids again and made every effort to quickly return to sleep.
"Please let me at least have humdrum dreams for another 2 hours..."
Plenty of drowsiness remained, so happiness would soon settle upon her. Her consciousness began sinking as if plunged in water.
But then...
The girl's modest wish was pitilessly rejected.
"---"
A small, yet high-pitched sound remained in her ears. It was unmistakeably a telephone ringing. Likely by force of habit, the eyelids she had just closed now popped open again against her will.
"Ah, c'mon... on this of all days..."
The telephone waited in the first floor lobby. From this room, she needed to cross 10 meters of hallway and 1 flight of stairs. To the sleep deprived girl, this distance was somewhere between far and beyond. ...The telephone continued resounding persistently. If she ignored it, it would eventually stop, but she wasn't nice enough to herself to do that.
"...is Alice not picking it up?"
She soon abandoned any lingering expectation that her housemate would take action. Now that she thought about it, today's holiday was for her school only. Her housemate attended a prestigious academy on top of a hill and had probably already went to school.
The phone's patient insistence was abnormal. That excessive persistence made it feel as if the volume was a rank higher.
"Ah jeez! When I finally get some quiet sleep...!"
She reluctantly left bed, slipped into her outer garments, and left her room behind.
"Wow, it's cold."
She clasped her hands together, warming her benumbed fingers. The mansion's heating system was lacking. Thus the winter cold became a fearsome adversary. Especially on such an utterly overcast day, she didn't need a thermometer to feel the midwinter chill. Since the mansion was snuggled well into the mountains, surrounded by deep forests, winter came to it sooner than in the town.
The metallic tones of the call sound echoed down the long hallway. The building's furnishings were all lifeless acquisitions with no scent of having been used. More than luxury, a sense of loneliness exuded forth. Joined by the gloomy morning, this atmosphere could indeed be called that of a haunted house.
"...Well, a haunted house is exactly what it is. Besides, this place is far too big for only two people to inhabit."
The number of calls had already passed 30. Perhaps the caller was extremely free, or perhaps he knew about this house's circumstances. She had a hunch that it was the latter. Melancholic colors tinted the window above. As if to arrest the disorderly telephone, she quickened her steps, all the while gripped by the premonition that as soon as she seized the phone, her joyful morning would evaporate like mist.
In any case, this was merely the beginning of one series of events. Please forgive us for however dull it may seem. Perhaps it's statistics. Perhaps it's common knowledge. But the start of a story is usually when such ordinary days peacefully begin to turn.
-OP Movie-
Around the time she reached the main gate, showers were lightly sprinkling the ground. Far away in the sky, sunrays were playing peek-a-boo with the clouds. At this rate, the rainclouds would likely be well exhausted by the afternoon.
"...Still, this is a matter completely unrelated to me."
Like an antithesis to the clearing weather, the girl's fortunes felt bleak. On top of being awakened after an all-nighter, she just suffered through the freezing rain. Even this so-called 'business' she was to attend to would likely be unfortunate. While bearing the headaches of such thoughts, she passed through the main gate and headed towards the school building.
Along the way she passed not a single other student. Nor could she spot anyone engaged in club activities. At the staff entrance stood a sign that read "On Break." The school had granted holidays equally to every student... with the natural exception of this girl, now summoned at this hour. That reality grew more and more irritating.
She opened the door to the staff room to find a familiar teacher facing his desk. A plain yet sharp shirt and suit complemented a serene yet vigilant bespectacled gaze. The soft-featured mid-twenties man puffed a cigarette that didn't fit him. It seemed as if he hadn't yet noticed her.
"Mr. Yamashiro."
She forcefully shut the door behind her. Showing no surprise at the sound, the teacher called Yamashiro raised his head.
"Hey there, Aozaki. I suppose you've heard of the situation?"
"Yes. One hour ago at my home. With no prior consultation."
Yamashiro was an alumni of this high school, and his age was not that far removed from that of his students. Because of this, students liked him more than they liked other teachers. He had a bounty of knowledge and a gentle bearing. Some students even regarded him as less like a teacher and more like a reliable upperclassman. Unfortunately, Aozaki held no such adoration.
Teachers should be cool and clear. For students, this smiling brother-figure who was one part forgiving sanctuary yet one part implacable wall... it was unacceptable. At least that was her theory. Yamashiro stood diametric to her vision of an ideal teacher, so naturally her tone with him became stiff, even rude. ...Then again, she hadn't been equipped with such trifles as etiquette or pleasantries to begin with.
"Indeed. You seem pretty cranky today as always."
"That's just your imagination. It's not like today is special in any way."
Even as she delivered her snappish reply, she knew she was wearing an awful countenance. The fury of being awakened fused with the sleep deprivation to create grudge filled eyes.
"I see. That's good if that's the case. But please don't be so harsh on him. Honestly, we don't even know how to handle him at this point."
"Sir. I haven't yet heard a detailed explanation of the situation."
In response to her piercing eyes and voice, Yamashiro breathed an "Ah," in reply, then snuffed the flame of his cigarette.
"Hmm-, what did you hear on the phone?"
"Just that I am to introduce a transfer student. An explanation void of reason or context."
Yamashiro raised impressed eyebrows at this brief reply. To think that this girl was angry not at being summoned on a holiday, but at the uninformative contents of the call... Good gracious, she's truly severe. Yamashiro gave a strained laugh.
"Sir. If this is just some funny story, may I be excused now?"
"No, sorry, sorry. I apologize. This is not a joke. We earnestly need your help for a bit."
"Really? On some issue with this transfer student?"
"Yeah. One might say there are circumstances or difficulties. He... this boy called Soujuurou is a bit anomalous in many ways. We thought maybe you'd be more qualified than us to show him around, being the same age and all."
"............"
She found this explanation dubious and it clouded her countenance. Pushing a teacher's duties onto a student was clear negligence, but more than that, what did he mean by saying the transfer student was "anomalous"? It'd be easily imaginable if he just had a problematic attitude and would be difficult to handle. But what did this "anomalous" mean?
"'Anomalous' is not a word you'd use very often here..."
As Aozaki deliberated on these misgivings, her mind turned back. There was no use worrying about this and that. Somehow this conversation itself was rather uncannily anomalous. It lacked information. But if she had even intended to refuse to begin with, right now she would curled up in bed like some bizarre ammonite.
"I have one question."
"What? Ah, he's the same grade as you; a sophomore. He has a calm disposition and is the type of person who listens well to others. Though on the flip side you could say he's the type to have no ambitions. But still, he should be easy to interact with, right? He's in a different class from you, Aozaki, but I'm sure you'll get along great."
"I'll find that out speaking to him personally and judging for myself. That aside, why need it be me?"
Alongside this thorny question, she implicitly assented to showing this transfer student around. She was still displeased, but for now she would set such personal feelings aside and fulfill this duty she had been given. Though she was of an excessively self-centered disposition, a diligent attention to impartiality was her forte. It was somewhat paradoxical, but people like Yamashiro had learned to rely on her strength of character.
...Well. Sometimes that strength would, like a storm, categorically exceed itself. After one year, Yamashiro only learned one countermeasure for her in this state: treat her like a natural disaster and just give up.
"I'll ask you one more time, Mr. Yamashiro. Why need it be me?"
Against this interrogation that would not take a simple "yes" or "no" for an answer, Yamashiro was eventually pressured into replying.
"Well, that's... not particularly because... Aozaki, you're someone the teachers regard with the same confidence as someone to be respected out of sight: the Iron President of the Student Council who will cut away teacher and student alike for the sake of the school. That's not why at all!"
"......that aside, I don't recall any reason why I should've been summoned like this."
Aozaki glared at the Student Council Advisor with narrowed eyes brimming with distrust. With fury unbecoming of a 17-year old maiden. With the charm of that same 17-year old maiden. The two aspects coexisted in a miraculous balance to form that gaze, and Yamashiro received it with a calm smile, as if enraptured.
"No, if it was based only on duty, I would do it. Regarding your selection for this matter, the roles of teacher or student council president are irrelevant. How should I say it? I think you would be the only one who could listen to this request impartially, without thinking of loss or gain. Since you're the only one so qualified, I strongly recommended you."
In short he said something like, "Somehow you're just a boundlessly good person."
"Mr. Yamashiro."
"Ack, scary. Gosh, don't scowl, don't scowl. As I said, I can deal with it, but please give him a smile. Speaking of which, if you understand, let's get moving. We've already made him wait a while. And of course I appreciate you making your way out here in the rain. Naturally I'll drive you back."
Yamashiro stood up smartly.
"That will be unnecessary," she returned simply before leaving the staff room.
--
He had been waiting for one hour. Somewhere in that time, the sky had imperceptibly shifted into a gentle drizzle. He listened absently to the sound of raindrops. The room held only one rectangular desk, left behind perfunctorily. The shape of only one person stood there, with no one else but him. Since he had arrived in this room and been told to sit and wait, a significant period of time had passed. For a normal student, now would be a good time for his discontent or anxiety to come to voice. But this boy stoically abided by his instructions and waited, like a scarecrow put to field.
The cold reached into the very core of his body. It was the morning temperature of late November, when the earth began to welcome winter back after a long year. The room's temperature was somewhat more tolerable than that outside. Whether it was because he hadn't noticed the teacher tell him it was ok to turn on the stove, or whether it was because he had never seen such a type of stove, either way the heating remained dormant.
Lightly breathing on his chilled fingertips, he aimlessly assessed his surroundings. Apparently this dreary room was called a conference room. To a student here, it would seem like a grandiose room. But to him, it just seemed like a plain, big room. Because it carried no scent of life, he was suddenly reminded of a dried out grotto. With nothing to do, he earnestly considered what sort of conference could be held in such a cold place.
"............, Mmm."
No matter how hard he thought, he couldn't come up with an answer, so he returned his attention to the sound of rain. A sky filled with rain just slightly resembled the things of the mountain. No, more like they both barely remained at the root of things. Though their scents and their sounds might harden, their origin was the same. Even in the next world, it would share a common thread with the mountain. He felt solemnly happy about such a trifle.
He liked the town awash in rain. Of course a fine, clear sky would feel more comfortable, but from some other perspective, removed from that particular comfort, he liked the rainy sky. The shape of the town, obscured in a rainy haze, slowly took on an earthy smell that doggedly reminded him of home. Thus it was only at times like these that his unease from coming to the city finally began to fade.
"---"
Promptly a dejected sigh escaped him. He felt completely miserable. Though it'd already been two weeks since he moved, even now whenever he let down his guard, regretful nostalgia for his hometown would sink his shoulders. At this rate wouldn't he have to apologize to his new life? Thus he fired himself up and resolved to fix his behaviors.
With this new zeal mixed with old absentmindedness, he turned his attention to the sound of the rain. For him, this much pointless waiting seemed not even bitter. The paralyzing cold and the one-hour abandonment aligned with his deep breaths and were readily swallowed into his mind state. Like the man who spent three years on top of a rock. Or like the 47 Ronin. Setting aside whether or not it was a strength, the truth was he possessed an astoundingly strong endurance.
We'll say that regarding the present, such is this boy's forte.
On the other hand, the girl was painfully offended. On her way from the staff room to the conference room, she inquired about the profile of the person she was to meet. Somehow, this person had, up until now, lived deep in the mountains where even electricity wouldn't run. 'Life without electricity' was something that, in this modern age, over half of the population had no idea about.
"What hopeless isolation! It's not like this is the pre-War, or even the post-War period. There has to be a limit, even for Robinson!"
Aozaki's indignation was inevitable. This very town in the mountains had itself been isolated for a long time. However for a town at the foot of the mountains to receive communication by mail but once in a moon... should've been unheard of in modern Japan. Still, even in this age when the veins and arteries of highspeed highways and railways spread out across our great country, the existence of mountain villages like that remain an undeniable fact.
The only thing she was certain of now was that she hadn't the slightest idea what someone raised in such conditions would think about.
"By no electricity... surely you mean it didn't reach throughout the village. There must've been a public phone at least, right?"
"Seems like there weren't. When he came to live here, apparently his first surprise was at phones themselves. 'Electricity is convenient,' he said with such a serious face. Enough to make you reaffirm, 'That's true now that you mention it.'"
Aozaki shot a sidelong glare at the laughing teacher. What was so funny? Yamashiro seemed to be comforted by the notion of this simple rural boy.
"...so they didn't even have a local police station...? My family's home is also in the mountains, so I can't say it's impossible to not have electricity, but -does that guy even know what 'school' is?"
"Yeah. He knew what sort of place it was, but had never actually been to one till today. Also, perhaps it was due to nervousness, but he didn't seem particularly interested in conversation. Hmm, is this what they call a feral child? Like a fabled boy raised by wolves? Really this should be the job for an adventuring party!"
"............"
"Ah, you're scaring me Aozaki. I just joking, joking. Please don't glare so much. Don't worry, he was just as I described: a quiet boy! How should I say it, he felt like a small animal who can't quite comprehend words."
"Mr. Yamashiro. That analogy bothers me."
Brushing him off brusquely, Aozaki began simulating in her head the lifestyle of one without electricity. Her normally strict countenance suddenly grew even thornier. Still, that was a world she did not know. She gave a nod to her teacher as he held his hands up in surrender. In truth, Aozaki wanted to give up as well and return to her warm bed. But she stopped even this inconsequential self-indulgence in its tracks. She did what she could to estimate, assess, and undertake this job, so whatever its details or contents, there was no way she'd simply abandon it.
She walked down the long since cooled hallway, the sound of rain at her back. The conference room was now in front of her eyes. With a frown still creasing her brows, with her long hair swaying, Aozaki made her way towards this foreign being that she had never before seen. Her gait was both graceful and militant, as if charging into battle.
"...um, Aozaki? I trust you, but, just to make sure, how should I say it... be nice, okay? If possible, can you try to put on a smile?"
"I'm bad at fake smiles. I suppose I will make an effort, though."
"Ah, I see. Well, that's good. ...No really, that's nice to hear. Even Aozaki has things she's bad at."
The moment Yamashiro relaxed his shoulders was the moment they reached the aforementioned conference room. While winking, "Be nice. Be nice, okay?" Yamashiro reached for the conference room door. Aozaki grew only more and more irritated at such treatment.
"...I understand. He's a difficult to socialize with. But a smile is not something made consciously. Besides, Tobimaru is far better suited to such instant social adaptations."
As she sighed at her own unsociability, she remembered that being summoned on a holiday while sleep deprived was not something to smile about. On top of that, the source of her troubles was someone who would be better served starting off at elementary school than high school. ...That person had no responsibility in this case, but neither did Aozaki even have any responsibility or duty to do the school's own work.
"At least just read the situation a little better and let me have some ordinary days." She felt like grumbling.
"...No. Any way you put it, he's enemy. Whatever happens, he's an enemy. Sorry but even before considering the circumstances, he's an enemy...! I guess we're both unlucky, really, especially for this to happen during such a busy time--"
Sleep deprivation shot stinging pains through her head, amplifying her belligerence by 10%. No matter how harmless an individual stands behind this door, any and all beings who disturb my sleep are enemies! At the exact timing when Aozaki's irritation was reaching its boiling point, Yamashiro opened the door to the conference room.
The scenery carefully unfolded sideways, inconsiderate of such things as emotions. With eyes straight forward, Aozaki charged straight into the room- and came face to face with that bizarre foe.
--
The camera had once again, by one frame... time had ever so slightly wound back.
--
The command "You don't have to do anything," is, for some people, a one-of-a-kind blessing. For other people, it is a torturous ordeal. For the active Aozaki, it would be quite the opposite of enviable: a luxury so suspicious that she could not accept it. For the passive Soujuurou, it would be a side he's familiar with: the bitter thorns of idleness would awaken his nostalgia. But now, even after being made to wait for so long, his face showed no signs of discontent. He merely continued standing straight, watching the slate of the sky, as if were the most natural thing in the world. His time spent waiting had almost reached another hour, but surely the other party had their own circumstances. It wasn't as if he were paying for this anyhow. He exuded an air of being able to wait endlessly as long as the sound of the rain was there.
"But, isn't it already 9 o'clock? Hm, I wonder what's the matter."
But still he continued vaguely listening to the rain, paying no heed to the clock. School on a holiday held no bustle of life. There were no sounds at all save for the pip-pop of the rain. The atmosphere slowly slid into a sheet of silence. But then came the click-clack of shoes, echoing a straight, powerful stride.
"...phew, I thought maybe they forgot about me."
He heard light steps, as well as the heavier steps of an adult. Just as he breathed a sigh of relief, the conference room door slid open.
"Sorry, sorry. We made you wait quite a bit didn't we?"
The first figure he spotted was a bespectacled man wearing an unsettled demeanor. If he recalled correctly, this man was a teacher named Yamashiro Kazuki. Kazuki was to guide him through the school.
"Wait a minute... Mr. Satonaka isn't here? How awful of him... he even said he'd keep you company."
Mr. Yamashiro bowed his head ever more apologetically. After that... Pressing her lips in a silent pout, a girl appeared with long, black hair trailing behind. Her gaze was unwavering. He was dazed into breathlessness. The sound of rain beating on the window vanished from his hearing. Perhaps it was an illusion, but in that moment, for the first time in his life, he felt time stop.
"............"
She blinked in almost imperceptible surprise. It was unclear why. Just as she had been told earlier, this boy was the very image of a rural town bumpkin. Her intuition, however, rebutted, "I'm not convinced."
"---"
His eyes widened in almost imperceptible surprise. It was clear why. He simply had no idea how to form the proper words for this situation. His answer bubble remained blank. In that instant, he truly felt as if he had been touched by fate.
"I'll introduce you guys. He is our transfer student: Shizuki Soujuurou. And here is the President of our Student Council, who took time off from her holiday to come out here and show you around: Aozaki Aoko."
Both voices and raindrops sounded faint and far away. Such was the impression of their meeting. Whether for good or for bad, their beginning felt tiny, like the indistinct pop of a scattering spark.
EPT
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