by Shin Towada
It would be easy to kill her. But it would be too rash to kill her without understanding nearly anything about her, and there is the possibility that this is some kind of trap to simply get me to bare my fangs and hit me with some unthinkable retaliation in return.
At the same time, a gentle voice echoed in Tsukiyama’s mind.
“Tsukiyama, you ought to take a bit more care.”
The voice belonged to the manager of Anteiku, Yoshimura. When he’d dropped into the café the other day, Yoshimura had given him those words of warning.
I told him then that I had no blind spots, that there was no need to worry about me.
“Mr. Yoshimura, were you talking about that little mouse?”
Because of this he couldn’t make light of the danger. Tsukiyama tapped his fingernails against the coffee cup.
II
The prestigious high school was affiliated with Seinan Gakuin University. With an academic policy of respecting the independence and creativity of students, enhancing their value as individuals, and improving their capabilities, the school’s selling point was not just its record of high test results—it was also a celebrity school, with many of its enrolled students coming from wealthy families.
“Good morning, Tsukiyama.”
“You’re looking very cheerful this morning.”
“Oh, good morning, you charming girls. You sound just like angels today.”
He had a beautiful way with words, and an elegant, pleasant way of speaking. Tsukiyama gave smiles to everyone, including the well-mannered girls who’d been pampered since birth.
“Charming …”
“I hear that a lot.”
But because, unlike the elementary and middle schools affiliated with the university, the high school had many more students from the general population, there were more than a few ill-mannered students as well. Tsukiyama set his sights on the students gossiping in the back corner of the classroom.
“All I said was the same thing everyone thinks about those girls, though. I mean, don’t get your feelings all hurt every time someone doesn’t praise you from the bottom of their heart …”
If Tsukiyama narrowed his eyes as if to say, “You sure about that?” they would be pulled into the unique atmosphere that Tsukiyama had and sink into silence. The weak are no match for the strong, even when the strong don’t show their claws.
“Oops, on another subject …”
Tsukiyama left the classroom and headed toward his next two classes. Since his person of interest was not at school yet, he propped himself up against the wall in the hallway, arms crossed, and waited for about ten minutes.
“Bingo.”
The noisy clip-clop of footsteps reached Tsukiyama’s ears. It was Chiehori, the girl who had caught him in the act on camera last night. She had her camera hanging around her neck, and her nonregulation backpack slung over her shoulders.
Tsukiyama stepped away from the wall and turned to face her. She took a moment to recognize him.
But all she said was, “Morning!” before going into the classroom. Does this mean that what she said last night was true—that she got what she wanted and didn’t want anything else to do with me?
No, can’t let my guard down yet. She knows my secret now, after all.
From that day on Tsukiyama regarded Chiehori with extreme caution.
“Oh, you mean Chie? I don’t know how else to put it—she’s a legendary weirdo. Even at this school.”
Everyone he asked about her said the same thing: obsessed with photography, bizarrely unconcerned with social norms.
He had never noticed her before, but now that he had, he saw that she was restlessly energetic, always chasing after bugs in the courtyard during break or climbing a tree after school to take pictures of the sky.
“Chie’s at it again.”
“Where’s she find the energy?”
As the whispered conversation reached his ears, Tsukiyama also heard Chiehori’s footsteps. They beat out an unhesitant staccato. How much energy does she have?
“There you are.”
Then Tsukiyama heard another set of footsteps approaching.
“Mr. Tsukiyama, may I have a word with you?”
His homeroom teacher, Ms. Matsumae, had just appeared in the classroom. It was break time. Tsukiyama said yes and stepped into the hallway.
“Shall I take care of her for you, sir?”
She said it quietly, so that nobody around them would hear. Tsukiyama shook his head quietly in admonishment.
“Matsumae … Thank you for caring about me, but this is my problem. If I can overcome this, I feel like I’ll be able to apply what I learn to bigger problems too. I have to take care of this myself.”
Matsumae was an employee of the Tsukiyama family. Naturally, she was also a Ghoul.
“Shu, sir, I was acting presumptuously out of too much concern for you. I am full of shame now.”
“No, it’s fine. You expressed your feelings well enough. There is something you could do for me, though—could you check into her for me?”
Matsumae nodded reverently.
“Yes, sir. Chie Hori is from a very normal, average family. Her test results were good and she received a scholarship to attend this school, but since she was admitted her grades have been inconsistent, and at times this poses difficulties regarding her scholarship.”
Seems she’s not serious about studying. So then why’d she choose this school? Just as Tsukiyama wondered this, Matsumae added, with perfect timing, “The reason she gave for applying to this school is that it was the closest to her house. Anyway, she has since maintained her grades at the level needed to continue to receive her scholarship, but as you know, her only passion is photography. She’s not in any clubs or on any teams, but the photography club advisor has seen her photographs, and she said that while some of Chie’s pictures are as bad as if a child took them, some of them are almost miraculous and don’t seem like they could have been taken by an amateur.”
So just like with school, she’s inconsistent when it comes to photography. Like a guinea pig skittering around without a purpose.
“I also teach her class sometimes, and my honest impression of her is that she is hard to pin down. She doesn’t study hard enough to call her serious, and her behavior is not bad enough to call her unserious.”
“It’s hard to tell the difference between a fool and a wise man. Just like the zero card of the tarot deck, The Fool.”
“I have not been very helpful. My apologies, sir.”
“No, it’s fine. If there’s anything else, let me know.”
“As you wish, sir.”
It seemed like he would not be able to deal with this by ordinary means. Nonetheless, the more he looked into this girl he hadn’t known at all until now, the more mysterious she became. Perhaps I need to improve my understanding of people.
Tsukiyama had gone back into the classroom and sat in his seat when the girl who sat next to him asked, “Did something happen?” She had silky, beautiful black hair and intellectual eyes. But within those eyes shone a dazzling glint of passion, contradicting first impressions.
“Miss Ikaru. Were you listening in?”
“You two were talking so loud it’s more like you made me listen. What happened with Chie?”
An ordinary person could not have heard their whispering in the hallway from inside the classroom, filled with the buzz of break time. But as to whether she was a Ghoul, that was another story.
Ghouls lurk in everyday life. Ikaru was also excellent at fitting into human society. Some were remarkably good, having the right attitude and taking the effort needed to hide their identity and blend in with humans.
“What happened is, she took a picture of me while I was feeding.”
“No way.”
“Idiot me …
Really.”
Tsukiyama shrugged and shook his head in disbelief at himself. She frowned.
“Why haven’t you killed her?”
“I haven’t figured her out yet.”
“Well, you’re taking your sweet time about it,” she murmured, sounding astonished. Just then, Chiehori came in from the hallway. The two of them observed her.
“I wasn’t aware of her because I took no interest in her, but that little mouse is pretty famous at this school for being a weirdo.”
“You’re pretty famous here too, you know, for being the heir of the venerable, noble Tsukiyama family. For having great powers of influence due to strong friendships in the political and business worlds. It was your grandfather’s generation that built up huge amounts of assets, wasn’t it?”
“My grandfather was also an adventurer. He made his fortune by importing and exporting ‘curiosities’ from all over the world. I’m very proud of him,” Tsukiyama said, putting his hand to his chest to show his respect.
“On top of that, you yourself are an accomplished student and your beauty is comparable to a model. And yet, your behavior is strange … bizarre. Terrible but eye-catching. And you and all of your family have, until now, been able to stand out without being caught. I can’t help but admire you.”
Just then, Chiehori dashed in from the hallway again. They stopped talking, and both of them turned their eyes toward her.
“But really, she’s so animated that I can’t believe you hadn’t noticed her until now. I guess she didn’t meet your standards.”
Also, she had a monotonous, uninteresting smell, like the part of your index finger that never moves, and an utterly charmless, childlike body type. He must’ve unconsciously excluded her from his list of gastronomic interests.
“Still, it’s strange, isn’t it? She has no financial means to speak of, but still she has a good camera with a high-spec lens. That’s top-of-the-line.”
Tsukiyama was unfamiliar with the financial limitations of common people, but he assumed that kind of gear would be too expensive a gift for her parents to give. She didn’t seem to have an after-school job. How did she get her hands on that camera?
“Apparently she uploads her pictures to the internet as stock photos.”
“Stock photos?”
“Yeah. Like you get money if they’re used for commercial purposes. But primary-source photos have an even higher value.”
Did she really have the knowledge to do that? Tsukiyama found himself becoming interested in a girl he had been indifferent to, little by little. But he couldn’t forget she was the girl who knew his secret.
And now, is the game afoot?
Watching as Chiehori ran out into the hallway for the third time, Tsukiyama’s smile intensified.
After school that day, he found her belly-crawling across the school lawn. He approached and tried to see just what on earth she was looking at, but he saw nothing but grass. Only the clicking of her camera shutter going off could be heard.
“What are you shooting, little mouse?”
“I found one.”
Chiehori turned toward Tsukiyama and stood up like a shot.
“Check it out,” she said. She fiddled with the camera, then showed him the picture she’d taken.
“I beg your pardon, but all I can see is the grass.”
“Well, yeah. The picture’s of the grass.”
“Why? Grass is so boring.”
It was hard to reconcile the idea that the same girl could take shocking pictures of a Ghoul midfeast and also take pictures of some entirely uninteresting grass. The difference couldn’t have been starker. But Chiehori seemed content.
I shouldn’t have said that.
“Wait, now that I really look at it, it’s not bad. Every blade of grass is bathed in a prism of light, and each one has this emerald glow … It’s really interesting.”
I can’t afford to offend her now, Tsukiyama thought as he retracted his previous statement and praised her.
“Oh, really? I think it’s boring, personally,” Chiehori said. God, this girl just does not behave how I expect.
“My apologies,” Tsukiyama said, breaking the silence. “Actually, there’s somewhere I’d like to take you now. Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you.”
Tsukiyama searched her face discreetly as he spoke the words carefully. She is a slippery one, but this is my chance to get her.
“It’s somewhere I’m sure you’ll like—”
“Great,” she answered readily, before he’d even put the bait on the hook. Tsukiyama was slightly taken aback. She fumbled with her camera.
“Sounds fun.”
Perhaps her “sense of smell” is sharper than I thought.
III
He took Chiehori to the college hospital not far from the school.
“What’s wrong, Tsukiyama?”
Chiehori raced around the grounds of the hospital without a pause, taking pictures of the building’s exterior and the landscaping. Tsukiyama started speaking.
“There’s something I want to tell you first,” he said. “It’s that I really like humans.”
“So much that you eat them.”
“Even if that’s not my aim, is what I mean. People live their lives without claws or fangs, but still, humans have prospered on the earth. What drives them, I wonder—and what’s at the heart of it?”
“But then you eat people.”
“Even though I eat people.”
The two of them entered the hospital, got on the elevator, and selected the floor for the general ward.
“Are you sure we can just waltz into the hospital like this?” Chiehori asked nonchalantly. The two of them were alone in the elevator.
“Oh, it’s fine. I’ve taken everything into account.”
They arrived at the eighth floor. On that floor there was an atrium as well as the ward. In this restful space, covered with grass and dotted with verdant trees, patients at the hospital and their families sat chatting in a peaceful atmosphere.
“Here we are,” Tsukiyama said, casting a glance at the nurses’ station. There were several nurses on duty behind the desk, and of those, one young female nurse had noticed Tsukiyama and Chiehori and was heading over to them.
“Oh, Tsukiyama, you came back? And you brought … Oh, I see, you go to Seinan, too,” the nurse said, unable to hide a smile befitting such an angel in a white uniform. She seemed surprised that Chiehori, who looked nothing like a high school student, was wearing a Seinan uniform.
“This is my friend,” Tsukiyama said.
“We’re friends now?”
“When you share a secret with someone, that makes you friends,” said Tsukiyama.
“Sounds suspicious if you ask me,” teased the nurse. She didn’t seem to really mean it. After all, the two of them were quite a mismatch.
Next, Tsukiyama introduced her to Chiehori.
“There’s a lot of greenery at this hospital, as you can see. It’s a pleasant place, so I was sitting on a bench on the grounds reading when she came over to talk to me. She has a very kind, polite manner, and she’s very popular with the patients. And as you can see, she never can hide her beautiful smile either.”
“Oh no, don’t exaggerate.” The nurse blushed with embarrassment. But Tsukiyama turned to her and continued.
“It’s just … love can be so painful.”
“E-excuse me?!”
Tsukiyama clasped his hands to his chest and shook his head exaggeratedly, as if he were suffering over an impossible love.
“The doctor I’m in love with hardly looks my way. But if I got the chance I know we’d hit it off,” he imitated her. Then he said, “There’s not a man alive who wouldn’t fall for your smile.”
The nurse became flustered at having her innermost thoughts exp
osed, but she gave a wry smile at his last statement. “I hope so,” she said.
Just then, someone appeared behind her.
“Chatting away with a young man, I see!” boomed a loud voice. It belonged to a male patient who seemed to be over ninety. He had emerged from his room behind them. His face was etched with countless wrinkles and his hairline was receding. He embraced the nurse from behind.
“Aah! Don’t do that ever again!” she warned, turning around to face the patient clinging to her.
“Hm?”
At that moment, for some reason, Chiehori clicked the shutter.
I get it.
The old man let go of her and headed back toward his room with a grin on his face. With a pained smile, the nurse said, “I’m going to see him back to his room. Goodbye,” and went off. As the two of them watched her go, Tsukiyama gave Chiehori an explanation.
“That old man has been hospitalized for a heart condition, but sometimes he wanders off or does things like that, harassing the young nurses. And he forgets what he’s done right away, so he doesn’t feel any sense of shame.”
But he also forgets the kindnesses people do for him. Forgetfulness is always with him.
“But he’s a wealthy man, and he has relatives who are professors who work in this university hospital, so no one can say much to him.”
Chiehori had her head down, checking her digital camera’s display, and had not heard a word of Tsukiyama’s story. She did everything at her own pace, and he couldn’t hate her for it.
Tsukiyama leaned over and whispered in her ear.
“I’d like to invite you to a dinner theater tomorrow night.”
She reacted with surprise and looked up at him.
“But you’ll have to get the tickets yourself. Tomorrow night, around midnight, I’m going to sneak into that old man’s room. I’ll leave the window open for you. You should be able to get some marvelous photos.”
This was the bait. He wanted her to imagine what might happen all she liked. And then he wanted her little chest to pound with excitement.