Occultic;Nine Volume 2

by Chiyomaru Shikura

  “Ascension!” I screamed. I looked around, and was relieved to see that there was no one there. “I remember! I remember!”

  When the static electricity had hit me, I’d remembered what had happened when I’d written those words. It was last month, when I’d gone to get Dr. Hashigami’s article draft and had a brief chat with him about his future plans. He’d asked me a question, which was unusual for him.

  —Sumikaze, do you remember any of your dreams lately? If any words come to mind immediately, I’d like you to tell them to me.

  And that’s when I’d told him “the bottom of the water,” “moonlight,” and “many people.” I didn’t really remember the dreams themselves. Dreams always fade from your mind so quickly. But I remembered writing those words down.

  “Why did he ask me that? Was he planning on writing about dreams?” In the end, I’d never know.

  “Dr. Hashigami was murdered.”

  site 30: Miyuu Aikawa

  Friday, February 26th

  “Huh? You’re going back to that weird café?”

  Chi looked shocked. I’d been cleaning the classroom with her after school and talking about my plans for the day. I nodded as I swept the floor with a broom.

  “Which means you’re meeting that weird older boy again?”

  She was talking about Gamo. When he’d come to the AV room before, she’d been there too, of course. And of course, she’d seen me talk to him. I remembered her asking me a bunch of questions about that later.

  “He’s strange, but he’s not... weird, you know?” If anybody there was weird, it was Master Izumin. He was pretty bizarre.

  “I don’t know... I mean, he runs one of those shady websites, right? I saw it. He was saying all this stuff about you.”

  “Myu?! Chi, you saw that?” I really didn’t want any of my real-world friends seeing that, maybe. Gamo was really making a big deal out of things online.

  “Hey, Myu, are you sure about this? You can be a bit of an airhead, so I’m worried.”

  “An airhead... Nobody but you has ever said that to me.”

  “You are. I mean, you remember that one writer with the occult magazine who wanted to interview you?”

  “You mean Toko from Mumuu?”

  “That’s right. She did the interview, but never wrote the article, right?”

  I’d met Toko Sumikaze several months ago. Back when our livestream was still more or less unknown, Toko had happened to see it by chance. She’d contacted me and said she wanted to write about me in Mumuu.

  “They ran out of space, is all. And she apologized later.” In the end, she’d had to scrap the article, but she and I had really gotten along well, and once in a while we still sent messages to one another.

  “That person with Mumuu might have turned out to be a good person, but there’s lots of people who aren’t. If you ever think you’re in danger, even a little, let me know, okay?” Her hands were folded together, and she was panting a little. She was really worried about me.

  “Umyu... I’m so happy you’re my friend.” I jumped and grabbed her, and she rubbed my head.

  “There, there. I’ll protect you, my little air-headed Myu.”

  “Okay, then buy me a cream chocolate banana crepe at Circus.”

  “Don’t get cocky.” She poked me slightly on the head.

  “Hey, you girls, get to work!” The other boys who were cleaning the classroom complained, and we quickly got back to work.

  All the after-school clubs had been canceled since yesterday. I was pretty sure it was because they still hadn’t caught the murderer responsible for the death that took place at the university campus next door. When the homeroom teacher had told us to make sure we were home before dark, some of the boys in the class had complained. “We’re not in elementary school,” they’d said.

  When I finished cleaning, I left the school with Chi. We walked the path lined with gingko trees to the station. In fall, this path was covered with yellow leaves, but by now they were long gone, and it felt pretty lonely.

  It was a pretty long walk from the school to Kichijoji Station, about twenty minutes or so. There was a bus stop in front of the school, but the bus was always super crowded, and both Chi and I avoided it as much as we could.

  “You told my fortune once before, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah. It was about two or three months ago, wasn’t it? I saw a little birdie, didn’t I?” But Chi didn’t own a bird, and neither she nor her family had anything to do with them. We never really figured out what it meant.

  “Ever since you saw it, I’ve been thinking about birds. I started looking at pictures of birds on the internet, and found one I wanted.”

  “Yeah? What kind of bird?”

  “A parakeet.”

  “Wow, that’s great! Then maybe what I saw was the parakeet you’re going to get.”

  “Ahaha... I hope so. I’m trying to persuade my mom to let me get it. Here, take a look.” She showed me a photo she’d taken on her cell phone.

  It was a picture of a parakeet with brilliant lemon-colored plumage. She must’ve taken it while she was moving, because it was a little blurry.

  “It’s so cute! But you’re a bad photographer, Chi.”

  “Don’t say that.” Whenever she took a picture, it was always blurry. It had happened a bunch of times before.

  “Where did you take this picture? Is it real?”

  “There’s a pet shop near my house. That’s where I found it. I go at least once every three days lately. I’m just looking, so it doesn’t bother the shop.”

  Once every three days was a lot. She was really dedicated. She must have really wanted it.

  “How much is a parakeet, anyway?”

  “He’s five thousand yen.”

  “That’s a lot, huh? You couldn’t buy it with your allowance.”

  “You need to get a cage and stuff, too, so it’s actually a lot more than that.” Five thousand yen was a ton of money for a student. High school girls in particular spent a lot of money all the time.

  “I hope you can persuade your mom.”

  “Yeah. If I get it, I’ve already picked a name. I’m gonna call it Dodo.”

  “Huh? What’s that mean? It’s kind of... weird.”

  “I figured you wouldn’t know what it’s from. It’s from Alice in Wonderland. The Dodo. That’s where I got the name.”

  That was just like Chi, maybe. She loved fairy tales and children’s stories, and she always said her dream was to write children’s books.

  “Was the Dodo in Alice a parakeet, though?”

  “It wasn’t, but that doesn’t matter!” I’d thought she’d put a lot of effort into it, but maybe she hadn’t given it that much thought after all.

  “Chi, you’re gonna regret that. I mean, Dodo? Isn’t that a lame name? Let’s think of something else.” I tried my best to persuade her, but she pouted.

  “...I’ll think about it. I still don’t know if I’ll be able to get one, anyway. I’m stopping on the way home today, too, though.” We were having so much fun talking that it felt like we got to the station in a flash.

  “Okay, see you later. Bye!” We waved and said goodbye in front of the station.

  I went to Blue Moon on my own after that, but neither Gamo nor Narusawa were there, and I ended up having to spend an hour or so talking to Master Izumin. By the time I staggered home, exhausted, the sun had already set.

  I looked down at my phone as I changed out of my uniform and saw a message from Chi. “Birdie ba” was all it said. There was a weird photo attached.

  “Chi, your picture’s blurry again.” It was so blurry I couldn’t tell where it was taken. All I could tell was that it was taken on a street somewhere. There was a single trading card lying on the ground. The sun was setting. There was a long shadow that probably belonged to her. It felt, though, like nobody who saw the picture would pay any attention to those things.

  There was something big in the top right, someth
ing really strange. That’s what they’d notice instead. It was like a ray of white light and was clearly different than the rest of the scenery surrounding it. It wasn’t a natural light. I’d seen pictures like this before on TV when I was a little girl.

  “A ghost picture?” I hurriedly sent Chi back a message asking what this was. I called her, too. But she didn’t answer my message, and she didn’t pick up the phone.

  Saturday and Sunday were the weekend, but on Monday, the next day of school, Chi wasn’t there.

  site 31: MMG

  “What’s the status of the bugs with the first generation?”

  There was no inflection in Takasu’s voice as he answered Hatoyama’s question. “As I’ve said in my previous reports, the electronic capabilities of the first generation continue to increase as a result of the experiments. Their affinity with the spirit world is growing stronger than anticipated. The increase in bug factors is an effect of that.”

  “My question is how you’re dealing with the problem.”

  For once, Hatoyama’s question was met with silence. But Takasu’s expression didn’t change, and Hatoyama seemed a bit impatient.

  He continued. “Is it possible, for example, to adjust the output of ‘Odd Eye,’ and expand our control radius to deal with the bugs? That thing was Nikola Tesla’s greatest invention, after all. And its capabilities have grown far, far beyond the 1932 Wardenclyffe Tower, yes?”

  “You’re correct, but the precise adjustments required would be difficult. Too low, and we can’t get data for our experiments. Too high, and the affinity will only grow stronger. Its current setting is the greatest we can use to allow it to interfere with the guinea pigs.”

  “But that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to ignore the bug factors,” Dr. Matoba interrupted, bitterly. “What happens if we continue the experiment?”

  “There’s a possibility that the guinea pigs which we had some degree of control over will grow more and more feral.”

  The seated men responded to Takasu’s statement with disappointment and disillusionment.

  “Just sitting back and watching won’t improve the situation.” Hatoyama’s shoulders slumped as he spoke.

  “If we act now, we can be a little forceful and still not have any issues. That’s the purpose of the ‘occult,’ after all.”

  Matoba agreed. “We’ve used all available forms of media to create that fad, all in preparation for this. This country is in the midst of the biggest occult boom in twenty years. All you have to do is turn on the TV, and morning and night the news will be showing features on ghost photographs.”

  “Controlling the populace is normally a difficult proposition, but in the sole sense of distancing them from the spirit world, we’ve succeeded thanks to the power of the occult,” Hatoyama said. He, Matoba, and the other seated men all looked satisfied.

  “Takasu, come up with a method to deal with the 256 people in the first generation. This is your responsibility.”

  Takasu’s eyes narrowed at Hatoyama’s orders, but he slowly nodded. “Understood. Leave it to me.”

  site 32: Ririka Nishizono

  Monday, February 29th

  I softly folded up my blue umbrella. Just as I did, a raindrop blew down from the tree above me and landed right on my head. The coldness made me shiver. I just barely managed to avoid gasping out loud.

  It was afternoon on a weekday in the middle of winter, and Inokashira Park was usually empty at this time. With the rain having just come to an end, there was barely anyone here. That’s why I always found myself coming here whenever it rained. I’d walk through the silent park with my blue umbrella. It was enough to make myself imagine I was in a fantasy world, and it made me very happy.

  And today, I’d found something unexpected, as well.

  “A devil haunts this park!” The man was on the park’s open-air stage, giving a speech. It was more like screaming than a speech, though.

  I was his only audience. I certainly didn’t expect to meet him here. I must have used up all my good luck for the day. I’d seen people talking about him before online.

  —In Inokashira Park, you can find God.

  “God” was him.

  He was wearing a filthy blouson, sweatpants, and a white baseball cap with vertical stripes that was stained black in places. The shoulders of his blouson were covered with dandruff. He was short and hunched over. There was no way to tell how old he was, but his face was lined with wrinkles. He had to be at least fifty.

  “The land of Musashino is tainted with the electromagnetic rays of Wardenclyffe! Of course, this park is tainted, too!” God’s voice echoed clearly throughout the quiet park.

  The only people in this space now were me and God. It seemed to me a very happy encounter. And for some reason... what he said seemed strangely interesting. So I simply stood there in silence, and tried my best to make out what he was saying through the screams and shouts.

  “Nikola Telsa’s experiment continues! It’s a worldwide system using the Tokyo EM towers!”

  What did he think of my presence here? He hadn’t looked at me once since I’d stopped here to listen to him. There was no way he wouldn’t have noticed me. From up on the outdoor stage, he could see his surroundings clearly.

  So why didn’t he try to look at me? Did he not care about me? Was he so caught up in his own words that he didn’t care about anyone else? Was he too drunk to realize that there were other people around? Was he deliberately ignoring me? Was he simply embarrassed? Could God get embarrassed? No matter how old he was, it hurt my feminine pride a little to be completely ignored by a man.

  Of course, he had no idea what I was thinking. He just kept yelling. Once in a while, he would bring the bottle of sake he was holding up to his mouth, but it was already empty. But after a while, he would forget that it was empty, and bring it back up to his lips, only to get angry when he found it was empty. Then a bit later, the process would repeat.

  “How cute...” I whispered so he wouldn’t hear me.

  It was a personal theory of mine that every man in the world was cute. Their age didn’t matter. I felt myself becoming unable to hold back. I wanted to capture his every moment and put it down on paper. I thought that impulses like that only existed in manga.

  I decided to sit down on a bench in front of the stage. But the bench was wet from the rain, and if I did sit down, I’d get covered in mud. I didn’t want to do that, but I quickly got an idea, and put the weekly manga magazine I’d bought this morning down on the bench. Then I sat down on it. Now I wouldn’t have to worry about getting wet. I felt a little bad for the model on the cover of the magazine, but I was very pleased with myself for coming up with the idea.

  As I sat down, I could hear a clink from the pendant on my chest. I’d bought the pendant on impulse because I liked the sound. But God didn’t even seem interested in the sound.

  “Two huge antennas are pointed at Musashino twenty-four hours a day, right under the public’s eyes! The fact that the people don’t show their rage is proof that they’re brainwashed!”

  —I knew he noticed me, too.

  Just imagining it made the filthy old man seem even cuter, and I shivered. I took out my sketchbook from my bag, and carefully observed him as I ran my pencil down the white page. I would sketch a portrait of God. The idea struck me as romantic, and I chuckled to myself. Perhaps I would make it the title of my next book.

  “You can’t see it, hear it, or smell it! But it eats away at our lives! The hospitals won’t help! They’re full of dark conspiracies!”

  God was a worthy model for a sketch. There was an incredible intensity in his wrinkled face, and in the way the saliva flew from his mouth as he spoke. It would’ve been nice if he could’ve stood still while he maintained that expression, but I couldn’t exactly give God posing instructions. That wasn’t the only reason it wasn’t turning out the way I wanted. My hands were also turning numb from the cold.

  I’d started drawing this sketc
h on a whim. Should I continue it? Or should I stop? I was uncertain, but I kept drawing, when—

  I heard footsteps on the gravel behind me. I felt like someone had interrupted my private time with God. I resisted the urge to sigh and turned around.

  There was a small young man standing there, in a brown suit, a beige trench coat, and a beige cap. “Huh? That’s strange. The guy on Yahoo Auctions told me that this was where he’d hand over the Vanguard card. Maybe it was a mistake to believe someone who wanted to hand it over in person.” He was tilting his head and saying something I really didn’t understand.

  My holy encounter came to an end, and the stadium quickly returned to the vulgar, normal world. The young man kept looking around, and then fixed his gaze on me.

  “Oh, are you the person I’m supposed to be trading with? My screen name is ‘Hello there, I’m Zenigata.’”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m sorry,” I said with a smile.

  The young man took off his cap and slowly bowed. “My apologies. You see, I won an auction for a rare Vanguard card. I picked one where I could get the card in person so that I could show it off to those bratty middle schoolers as soon as possible, and they told me to meet them here. But it looks like I’ve been tricked. Man, what a screw-up. But you know, there are a lot of very pretty women like you who play Vanguard lately, so I did have some small hope in my heart when I spoke to you, you see.”

  He was squirming a little as he moved. How strange. At least, there was no one I knew who was like him.

  “Heh... what a cute student you are. Is that cosplay?”

  “I may not look it, but I’m a college graduate. This is my work uniform.”

  “Oh? Then you’re older than me. Still, if you ask me, you’re very cute.”