by Adam Smith
“Fine, I believe you.” I really hope he doesn’t start rambling on about some silly anime or whatever when I’ve got more pressing issues to deal with. “What do you know about whoever is stalking us then?”
“Not much. The story never seems to focus on them enough to guess, and the manga’s not exactly linear at the best of times. Did you see anything last night that might give us a clue?”
“I did see one th—” I fall silent, wondering whether it is actually connected with the incident or not.
“What? What did you see?” he gasps, his eyes narrowed on me with eager anticipation.
“There was some graffiti in the alley where the manga showed someone watching us, a big creepy painting of a fox.” I flip over the page and point figure in the alley. “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen a fox after an accident either.”
“That’s funny.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out something small and plastic. “I didn’t know what to make of this ‘til now.”
Clutching it by the strap attached to the top of its head, he holds out a small figurine of an anime-esque fox-girl. Something about the way the tiny girl with bright red ears and tail is winking at me looks wrong. Like she’s mocking me.
“Where did you find it?” My heart leaps into my throat and I have to remind myself to breathe. I have a feeling I know what he’s about to say, but I really don’t want to hear it.
“At the top of the stairs. The ones you fell down. I didn’t see who pushed you, but this was right there. I thought it might mean something,” he says. “What do you mean this isn’t the first time? You’ve seen it before?”
Oops, I hadn’t meant to bring that up. Especially not with him. I don’t even know if what I saw really happened. I just have to hope I was mistaken about him. “The day I first came here, I thought I saw a girl get pushed in front of a train. There was a fox on the platform when it happened.”
“Yuki?” he whispers, his eyes growing wide.
“I’m not even sure if what I saw was real. I saw her get pushed, but when I looked again the only thing there was a toy fox. I could be mistaken though, it all happened so fast.” I shake my head, trying to convince myself of that.
Matt just stands there glaring at the little plastic fox-girl like he wants to tear it apart. I have no idea what’s going through his head right now. His silence is starting to freak me out when the bell rings to tell us we’re late to class. I move towards the doors, but Matt grabs my arm to stop me.
“Did you see who did it?” He doesn’t move his gaze from my face. “Did you see who pushed her?”
I swallow a breath, and preparing myself to bolt if need be, I tell him the truth.
“You did.”
* * *
Matt hasn’t spoken a single word to me since this morning. Since I told him what I saw. Anytime I tried to speak to him, he acted like I wasn’t even there. Talking to him just left me with more unanswered questions. I still have the manga in my bag, but fat lot of good that does without anyone who can help me decipher it. Matt’s ignoring me and I can’t even ask Satomi about her offer to teach me to read. Seems like she took the day off, can’t really blame her considering what nearly happened last night.
As soon as final bell rings and cleaning time starts, I grab a broom, and ignoring my assigned group, I pretend sweep my way towards where Matt is busy stacking chairs on tables. “Why have you been ignoring me all day?” I hiss as soon as I’m close to him.
He shakes his head, not once looking at me. “I’ve been thinking.”
“Well, I want you to talk to me.” I stop my sweeping—even though it’s mostly pretend—and stare directly at him. “Or at the least I want some kind of answer for what I saw on that platform.”
“I can’t give you one.” He heaves another chair onto a table before turning to face me. “All I know is that Yuki didn’t kill herself, despite what everyone is saying. She didn’t commit suicide. She was my friend. She was helping me try to understand the manga.”
“Just give me one answer. Was it you?”
“No.” He gives me the one hard and deathly serious word, his gaze burning into mine. “I wasn’t even there that day. I should have been. I blame myself for not being there for her. I could have stopped it from happening. I should have seen it coming. I could have saved her. She was the first person who ever believed me about the manga. I should have been there.”
Matt just goes back to stacking chairs, more forcibly than necessary, without another word.
“Well then, how do we go about stopping this fox person? Especially if they’re walking around impersonating you?”
“I think I need to tell you everything I know.”
I cock an eyebrow and look at him.
“Not now.”
“When?”
“Tonight. After club meetings. I need some time to think. I’ll explain everything then. Maybe we can stop this before anything else can happen.”
“I’ve got Juku today.” I look at the small spark of hope burning in his eyes, and know I can’t just say no. “But, I guess I can get my cousin to cover for me.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod.
“Good. I’ll get everything ready and meet you outside school straight afterwards then.” A weak, but determined smile fills his face as he turns away and finishes his classroom job.
* * *
“Waters-san, are you even paying attention?” Sakura glares at me from her place behind the mike. “We still have five minutes left to practice. Not like it matters without Tanaka-san here, but I won’t have you messing about while everyone else practices.”
“Sorry.” I slump over my drum kit, I have kind of been phoning it in today, but I have bigger things to worry about than Sakura yelling at me. “Can’t we just call it time for today?”
“Fine.” A phone chirps and Sakura huffs off towards her guitar case.
“Don’t worry about her, she’s just in a bad mood today.” Miki comes up to stand beside me while Haruka attempts calm Sakura down. “Sorry about last night, I said this to Haru-chan already, I didn’t mean to run off on you and Haru-chan but I saw something I absolutely had to have. When I came back you two were already gone.”
“That’s okay,” I say, placing my drumsticks back in my bag. I look over at Haruka who is still trying to mollify Sakura. Perhaps I can make a getaway without worrying her about me breaking any of Grandfather’s precious rules. “Miki, would you be able to tell Haruka that I will meet her at home?”
“But don’t you have Juku?”
“Um, yes,” I say, trying to figure out what to say as an excuse. “You see, there’s something I really need to do and it can’t wait. I know it’s asking a lot, but would you be able to cover for me. I don’t want to get Haruka into any trouble.”
Miki is silent for a moment as she looks at me before bursting into her usual bubbly self. “Sure. I’ll tell her you’re not feeling good.”
“Thank you.” Grabbing my backpack, I move at a quickened pace towards the door, hoping to slip out before Haruka can notice.
At the front gate I dart my gaze around in search of Matt, but there’s no sign of him. I duck behind the nearest tree, the same one from this morning, and hide as a leather clad figure rides up and parks in front of the school on a noisy motorbike.
Removing his helmet, I can see from where I stand that it’s Hiroshi. He checks his phone and then suddenly, as if he could feel me staring, looks over at me. He waves to me, and I feel a bit foolish hiding behind a tree, so I step out and wave back. The doors burst open beside me and I turn to see a girl go barrelling down the path towards him. Without waiting for an invitation, Sakura jumps on the bike and clasps her hand around his chest. He gives his head a quick shake before handing her a spare helmet and replacing his own.
Hiroshi gives me one last wave, I can feel Sakura’s angry glare from here, before throwing the bike into gear and speeding off down the street. I breathe a sigh of relief t
hat he left before Matt got here, and I’m not sure why.
“Ready to go?” Matt’s sudden voice behind me makes me jump, sneaking up on me again, and I spin around to face him.
“Geez Matt, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” I give him a playful shove.
“Sorry.” He brushes a hand through his messy hair. “So, are you ready?”
“Yeah.” I sigh. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere we can talk.”
“Fine, lead the way.” I fold my arms in front of my body. I’m starting to get the feeling that telling people the destination of mysterious treks is against the law in this country. I start following him down the path and feel something crumple under my foot, bending down I pick up the neatly folded piece of paper I’d swear wasn’t there before.
“What’s that?” Matt looks at me with curiosity.
I unfold the paper and just stare at the image that takes up the whole page. It’s a picture of a girl standing in a dark closet with a single match illuminating her terrified face. I feel my heart turn to glass and a tremor run down my spine. The entire image is in black and white except for two patches of bright blood-coloured red. A pair of eyes watching hungrily from behind the girl. Faintly I can make out the bony wraith-like hand reaching out of the darkness, ready to drag her down. It’s my nightmare splashed out on a page. In the same drawing style as the manga.
Captioned at the bottom, in clear, neat English, are the words, ‘It’s after you.’
Chapter 16
“How much farther?” I look around the ever-crowded streets of Akihabara. Why is it that every time someone takes me on a mystery tour it’s always to here? Do they just not like talking about this place or something?
“This is the place.” He continues walking down the busy streets, seamlessly side-stepping the people standing on the footpath or walking slower than his pace. He turns into a building with a small sign with a picture of a frog on the side, pointing to the fourth floor. There’s nothing special about the place. It actually looks pretty decrepit, and the narrow staircase leading up doesn’t show any sign of shops or anything to make this place seem any less seedy. “We’re here.”
“Where is here?” I force my legs to move up the misshapen steps, trying my hardest not to fall back down. I’m really getting sick of stairs, I hate them.
“This is where I come any time I need to do some serious thinking.” We reach the fourth floor. Approaching the glass door, he runs his hand along the sensor and the door slides open. “Welcome to the manga café!”
The brightly lit room inside reminds me of a library, only smaller. Matt goes over to the desk beside the door and starts talking to the clerk.
I walk into the room and continue looking around. Shelves of books—manga actually—form aisles beside the desk. Off to one side are several stations of computers with large black leather chairs surrounded by high walls like little office cubicles blocking the view of each computer. In the other direction runs a narrow corridor filled with rows of thin black wooden doors on both sides. Shoes sit outside some of the doors like faithful dogs eagerly awaiting their master’s return. Many of the doors are closed, and the few that are open are too far away for me to see inside. The tauntingly thin sliver I can see kind of makes me want to know what’s going on inside those tiny rooms.
“Come on.” Matt leaves the desk and heads down the narrow passageway, stopping in front of one of the open doors. “After you.”
I look in at the small interior. Brown vinyl cushions line the ground in front of a sleek black computer desk. Before entering, I pull off my shoes and place them neatly on the floor beside the door.
“So, what are we doing here?” I walk into the very cosy space. The vinyl cushion issues a brief squeal as my body plonks down.
“I need to tell you what I know.” He removes his shoes and takes a seat beside me, pulling the door shut.
With the door closed the room feels even smaller than it looked from the outside. I’m glad I’m not claustrophobic, or I’d be seriously panicking right now. This intimate situation is making me a bit edgy. I’m starting to wonder whether coming here with him was a mistake.
“First thing’s first, can I have a look at the issue you took from me?” He grins.
“What…” Snapping me out of my thoughts, I reach into my bag and retrieve the book I’ve been carrying around amongst my increasingly bizarre collection of things. Reluctantly, I hold it out to him. “I didn’t take it, you gave it to me.”
“Same thing.” He yanks it out of my grasp a bit too eagerly and starts flipping though the pages. “What do you know about it already?”
“It can tell the future?” I shrug, not really sure what he’s getting at.
“That much, huh? Let’s start with the basics then. It’s called Shinigami Eyes, it doesn’t...”
“Shini-what?” I try to grasp the meaning of Shinigami, but my vocabulary fails me.
“Shinigami means god of death,” Matt says, switching to English without breaking stride—I’m a bit jealous of how he can jump between languages like that when I can’t even keep one language straight in my head. “It doesn’t so much tell the future as it tells a story of events that haven’t quite happened yet. Stories, actually. It’s not always clear and linear, there’s a lot of jumping about with foreshadowing and flashbacks and whatnot. Took me months to work out the patterns. Sometimes it’s clear what’s about to happen, other times it leaves out on a cliffhanger. Whatever makes for the best story, I guess.”
I just stare blankly, trying to process what he’s telling me. I thought a manga that told the future was the most confusing part of all this, now he’s telling me it’s even more complicated.
“The manga has a lot of characters, most of them with their own unique story, all interconnecting in one way or another. I’ve only managed to track down a handful as it is. It’s not like it focuses exclusively on you or me—I’ve been more of a background character for most of it anyway—but there are story arcs. Larger stories that run for several issues.” He nods his head as he speaks like it all should be obvious to me. “This latest story arc seems to be focused on seven girls that are connected by some traumatic event in their past.”
“What sort of traumatic event?”
“I don’t know.” Matt shakes his head. “The manga hasn’t revealed that yet, but there have been hints that it was something to do with a party when they were younger. Something about a fire.”
I shudder, thinking of the burnt birthday card I have here in my bag. “Is there anyway to find out who the girls are?”
“I gather you don’t read too many manga.” The way he says it suggests he’s making a point rather than asking a question.
“No, not really.”
He lays the manga open on the couch between us and flips back to a page near the start. The coloured pages at the beginning of the manga are a big contrast to the gritty black and white outline images I’ve been staring at—trying to make sense of—for most of the book. Splashed across the pages are a dozen or so faces, each with large blocks of indecipherable text beside them. The character sheet. Staring up at me from near the top, looking both forlorn and pissed off, is my black-haired purple-streaked manga counterpart.
“These are the seven.” Matt points to the small cluster of girls connected to my character by thick black lines. Like a spider web.
I look from character to character, trying to see who I recognise. There’s Miki, Haruka, Sa—it’s her! Greyed out and faded is the girl from the station. The girl I saw die. Yuki.
The small sad smile on her face gives her a look of wistful regret. Like she had to leave before she could finish something really important. I feel a chill at the memory of seeing a boy push this girl into the path of a moving train. A boy that looked an awful lot like the one sitting beside me right now. I believe him when he says he didn’t do it, but I still can’t shake that image from my mind.
Besides Yuki, two othe
r girls are greyed out as well, the lines running out from them look damaged and charred. I can’t help thinking of the three red marks on the photo I found. I’m afraid I already know the answer, but still I ask. “Why is everyone in colour except these three?”
“When this arc first started, it seemed like the stories were unrelated, half the girls didn’t even go to the same school, but as time went by things started to happen. Accidents started to happen. Small stuff at first. Not just the seven either, anyone around them. At the time, I had a theory about the manga, I could recognise some of the characters, but nothing concrete. Until I found this.” Matt reaches into his bag and hands me a slip of paper.
A newspaper clipping. I don’t need to be able read to know what it’s about. The picture of an apartment building burning gets the point across just fine.
“Her name was Hirano Natsumi. She was the first of the seven. She died when a fire broke out in her room. I read about the fire a week before it happened. It was then I knew the manga was for real. Maybe I could have done something if I’d known sooner.” He shakes his head. “That’s when the accidents really started. Fires, stuff falling, people getting pushed. A girl named Fujisaka Nanako was thrown from the roof of her school. No one seems to remember that though, they all say she disappeared. I tried warning people of course, but no one would believe me. No one until … until Yuki.”
The boy sitting beside me stays silent for a moment, as if trying to reign in some difficult emotion, before resuming his story. “Her name was Satou Yuki. She went to a different school. I only found her because I’d seen her before when our schools had a track meet. She was the star of her track team. Always driven, always pressured, always striving to succeed. She had a future ahead of her. Like you, she didn’t want anything to do with me when I first tried talking to her, but eventually I managed to gain her trust.”