I could see the “blue eye, empty to all” that belonged to a doll. With a soft sigh, it was covered back up.
“Are these other photos of your mom, too?”
“Yeah.”
I looked through the other three photos in the box in order, holding them in front of me. This time, Mei was the one to look down at them from one side.
One photo was of my mother with my grandparents. It looked as if they were standing outside the front door of the house. This one was probably from her middle school days, too.
The next one was of my mother all by herself. She was in a nearby playground, flashing a peace sign on the jungle gym. This one was obviously of her when she was still a child in elementary school.
The last showed the duo of the sisters, taken somewhere in the house. On the back I found a note that said “Ritsuko, 20. With Reiko.” There was eleven years’ difference between the two of them, so Reiko would have been about nine in this picture.
“…Huh,” Mei murmured softly. “Figures.”
“What figures?”
“That they’d look alike.”
“Huh?”
“Your mom and…uh, your aunt.”
“Oh…you think so?”
“It doesn’t really show in the picture of the two of them, but if you compare their faces when they were kids like in the second and third ones, they’re almost identical.”
Mei was right. It was the same thing I’d felt when I’d first seen my mother’s yearbook picture. That, adjusting for age, the two girls really did look a lot alike.
I mean, they were full-blooded sisters, after all, so it wasn’t such a shocking idea. That’s what I told myself so very casually in my own mind, but to Mei I said, “Maybe, yeah,” and tilted my head from side to side. I think she might have given me kind of a peeved look.
“Is your Aunt Reiko not here today?” Mei asked in a formal tone, her right eye narrowing smoothly.
“I think she went out somewhere,” I replied.
“You said she uses the side house as an office?”
“She says it’s her studio. I’ve never been inside, though.”
“So she works on art at home, huh?”
“Yeah. She studied oil painting in art school, and I heard she’s won prizes at contests and stuff since then…According to her, that’s her real job.”
“Huh. Interesting.”
When Mei had finished listening to the “confession” of Katsumi Matsunaga, she let out a sigh even longer and deeper than Mochizuki’s had been. Tugged back from my reflections, I stopped the tape player.
“Return ‘the casualty’ to Death…,” Mei murmured in a hushed tone. It was almost as if she were intoning some kind of ghastly spell. Her expression looked incredibly tense, and her face incredibly pale.
“All the parts where he says the name of the ‘extra person’ were totally fuzzed out, right?” I asked just to make sure, and Mei nodded silently. “Does that mean the corruption of the records goes as far as this?”
“…Probably.”
“If those kinds of changes could happen to this tape, then…”
At that point, I gave voice to a faint doubt that had been nagging at me.
“How come the name of the ‘extra person’ for each year doesn’t disappear from that binder Mr. Chibiki writes it down in? Or how come it doesn’t get smudged or something?”
“I dunno.” Mei cocked her head to one side, but finally she said, “It could be that Mr. Chibiki’s notes have been overlooked purely by accident.”
“Overlooked?”
“Or maybe they’re exempt.”
“By some kind of accident?”
“I don’t really get it, but maybe it’s the stance Mr. Chibiki takes as an ‘observer,’ or maybe it’s the time he writes down his notes, or it could be the location in the secondary library itself…All kinds of factors could be combining to produce that sort of anomaly. Or it could be that this tape is the abnormality.”
“How so?”
“Look, it’s a record from the only year ever when things stopped partway through the year. Maybe when ‘the casualty’ is returned to Death, even something like this gets affected, which is exceptional.”
“Hm-m-m.”
“Either way, since the thing we’re facing is this ‘supernatural natural phenomenon,’ all we can do is accept it for what it is…”
An unsettled silence dragged out for a few beats after that.
Staring at the silent tape player, Mei said nothing. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but in the end she said nothing.
I wonder what’s wrong. She’s not usually like this…
“Could I ask you something?”
Finally, I was the one who spoke.
“It’s not about this tape, but it’s been on my mind since way back.”
“…What?”
“About your cousin, Misaki Fujioka.”
I’d meant to switch subjects pretty much impulsively. But Mei reacted with a “Yeah?” and an abstracted look on her face. I followed up, undaunted, “I forget when, but you know that picture you drew in your sketchbook? You know, the girl you said you were going to give wings to last of all…”
Mei didn’t answer.
“You also said it was half your imagination, half modeled on someone, so…Was the model Misaki?”
After the slightest of pauses, Mei replied quietly, “I guess.”
“Were you guys close?”
“…I guess.”
“Why was she…”
I was about to load on another question when Mei interrupted, shaking her head slowly. “Later. I’ll—” She pressed her palm hard against the eye patch over her left eye. “I’ll tell you about it later. Let me think a little longer. Please…”
Just at that moment, Mochizuki returned. As soon as he opened the door and saw us, he gave a deliberate cough, then told us, “I think dinner’s going to be soon. They want us all to come to the dining hall.
“Also, that librarian, Mr. Chibiki, came. He said he’s here to support Ms. Mikami.”
6
It wasn’t yet seven o’clock at night…
Apparently in answer to Mochizuki’s wish, rain had started to fall. It was only at the level of a drizzle, but since the wind had picked up, we constantly heard the sound of the rain beating against the windows.
The dining hall was on the first floor, off in the right-hand corner from the front door—northeast, if you prefer cardinal directions—a spacious room taking up one entire corner of the building. Enough for ten rectangular tables covered in white tablecloths. Each was accompanied by four chairs. Some food had already been laid out.
“First of all, everyone—” Ms. Mikami began, looking around at the fourteen students gathered there. “Mr. Chibiki has come today to lend us a hand. As you know, he’s the librarian in the secondary library. Let’s have a quick introduction. Mr. Chibiki?”
Mr. Chibiki stood up. Even though it was the middle of summer, he was dressed in his usual all-black and his hair was as shaggy as ever.
“Hello, my name is Chibiki.”
He looked at each of our faces in turn, running a fingertip along the black frame of his glasses.
“I suspected Ms. Mikami might encounter quite a few difficulties undertaking this trip alone, and so I decided I would come along. Forgive the intrusion.”
Compared to how he treated Mei and me in the library, his speech was obviously strained and smacked of being on his best behavior. I suppose it was because it had been such a long time since he’d quit teaching social studies and had last spoken formally to a large group of students like this. In any case, just then—
“I’m also well aware of the peculiar circumstances into which this year’s third-year Class 3 has been placed.”
All of a sudden, Mr. Chibiki touched on the issue at the center of it all. His voice was more detached and harsh than strictly necessary, perhaps due to his efforts not to expose his own tension or anxiet
y.
The atmosphere in the room froze over instantly.
“The plan is for everyone to ascend Yomiyama tomorrow, and naturally I will accompany you. I intend to help however I can to ensure everything goes well. Let’s all be careful of accidents on our return. Still…” Mr. Chibiki glanced at the window, and then shifted his gaze to Ms. Mikami, who was at his table. “The weather has deteriorated somewhat.
“If there’s rain tomorrow, the outing will be canceled, correct, Ms. Mikami?”
“Oh. Yes.” Ms. Mikami shifted her head uneasily. “We’ll see how things are tomorrow…”
“Very good.” Mr. Chibiki turned back to us and continued. “I was hoping we’d be able to have a barbecue outside in the true spirit of a summer camping trip, but…”
His tone was much more casual than it had been. And his voice much gentler.
“Considering the circumstances, I suppose that’s not possible. Tonight, at least, it’s best to keep as low a profile as practicable. Let’s take the rain as a sign that heaven is supporting that decision.
“In any event, I’m glad to be here. If you feel ill or have anything on your mind, please feel free to come see me.”
For a while after that, the time passed with the atmosphere feeling intensely uncomfortable, even suffocating.
The intermittent sound of rain hitting the windows. Voices wafting sporadically from each table, too low to make out. The sounds came together to form a low, unsettling murmur.
When the caretaker Mrs. Numata began busily bringing out the food, the atmosphere in the room started to relax at last.
“Maybe we should tell Mr. Chibiki about the tape,” I whispered to Mei.
“I think we should, anyway,” she replied, shooting a look at Mochizuki and Teshigawara, who shared our table. Mochizuki inclined his head to one side without answering, but Teshigawara pursed his lips and shook his head.
“What, are you opposed?” I asked.
“I’m not saying I’m a hundred percent against it, but…” Teshigawara pursed his lips again, a glum look on his face. “I guess we can’t keep the secret to ourselves forever. And I dunno, maybe talking to that guy and seeing what he has to say is one option. But…”
“Don’t you want to hear what he thinks about it? No matter how you slice it, Mr. Chibiki has spent a long time observing this ‘phenomenon.’”
“I guess that’s true…”
“Then let’s tell him.”
“…Okay.”
“Misaki and I will wait for a good opportunity and talk to him after dinner.”
“…Yeah, okay.”
Teshigawara’s face was still glum, but he nodded reluctantly.
“All right, everybody, eat up now!” Mrs. Numata’s cheerful voice urged us, and we began to eat. I didn’t get the impression that anyone worked there except this husband and wife, so I guess Mr. Numata was the cook.
“Mr. Chibiki brought us very high-quality meat, you know. After he went to all that trouble, we decided to try cooking it in barbecue-style skewers. Go on, eat as much as you like. Don’t be shy asking for more rice, either. You’re all still growing.”
Even with the encouragement, though…
Neither the circumstances nor the atmosphere did much to encourage anyone’s appetite. It did nothing for me, either. I knew I was hungry, and the food all looked delicious, but I couldn’t work up any gusto for eating.
I wondered just how much the Numatas knew about the background and purpose of this trip. Then add in the question of whether they were here for that trip fifteen years ago, and my mind started working all over again…
As my eyes lazily followed Mrs. Numata’s fluttering return to the kitchen, I noticed Mr. Numata standing in the shadow of the door, peeking into the dining hall. I watched the two exchange words as Mrs. Numata passed by him, but his face was gruffness personified, as always. And in that moment, the light in his sunken, beady eyes struck me as deeply unnerving.
“That old guy is so fishy,” Teshigawara stopped to comment to me, the skewered meat halfway to his mouth. “Ever since we got here, he’s had this scary look in his eye when he’s looking at us, y’know?”
“Yeah…I guess.”
“Maybe he’s got some huge grudge against teenage boys. And maybe that lady’s so friendly to cover for her husband’s personality.”
“Why would he have a grudge?”
“You think I know?” Teshigawara answered sharply. “People are always talking about how bad juvenile delinquency is getting, but there’s plenty of old dudes who are dangerous, too. I bet you there are tons of old men who just lose it one day and kill their own grandkids or whatever.”
“Uh…Maybe, yeah.”
“Better not take your eyes off that guy.”
Teshigawara spit the words out in a whisper, who knows how seriously, then put the skewer back on his plate.
“They could have served us rotten food. Or maybe he mixed in some sleeping pills and once we’re all asleep, he’s going to go around and cut us up one by one.”
“Are you kidding me?”
I was about to tell him he watched too many B horror flicks, but…I caught myself with an Urk. That’s because I heard a critical inner voice say, You’re talking about yourself there, pal.
“By the way, Sakaki.”
After a few moments, Teshigawara started up again.
“This whole time, I’ve been thinking, what if the ‘extra person’ came with us today? And if they did, then who is it?”
“I could tell it’s been bothering you.” I sat up a little straighter and replied, “So? Any guesses?”
“Well…” Teshigawara trailed off. It wasn’t by much, but his expression became even more glum than before. “Supposedly there’s no way to tell who the ‘extra person’ is by looking at them…But maybe there’s still a way. Some little sign of it or something. What do you think?”
“I couldn’t say,” I replied honestly. “They say ‘there’s no way,’ but maybe that just means ‘we haven’t found one yet.’”
“Right?”
“But still.”
I fixed my eyes on Teshigawara’s profile. His brows were tightly knit.
“What if you did find one?” I asked. Again, I was partly posing the question to myself. “What would you do then?”
Teshigawara’s brows scrunched together even more forbiddingly, and he muttered, “Yeah, I dunno.” But he just pursed his lips again, not expanding any further.
7
Most of the students were wrapping up their meals.
“Ms. Mikami, may I please say something?”
With those words, one of them stood up. It was the second class representative for the girls, Izumi Akazawa.
“There’s something I want to make clear, since we’re all here.”
As soon as I heard that, I got a terrible feeling.
There were three other girls at her table. In other words, all the girls who’d come on this trip other than Mei were sitting together…Which, by itself, was a worrying thing.
No question, the class had considered Mei Misaki a strange person from the beginning. From May until the beginning of June, in the name of the “strategy” to prevent the “disasters,” she had been forced to take on the role of the one who’s “not there” and had been totally alone. In a certain sense, I suspected, doing that had preserved the positive balance of the relationships in the class.
That period from the start of June up to July, when I had been added to the list of those “not there” as a new “strategy,” had been the same. They may have been caught up in a visceral sense of danger, but because they had excised Mei and me—the foreign elements—from the equation, the balance within the group of third-year class 3 had been kept stable. However…
The moment that Mr. Kubodera’s death had forced them to realize that the “strategy” of increasing the number of people “not there” had been useless, everything had changed.
Mei Misaki, no longer �
��not there.” Mei, the strange girl whose existence could no longer be ignored. How did Akazawa and her friends feel about her? What would they inevitably feel?
I don’t know if I should say luckily, but that was when summer break had started, so the breakdown in balance didn’t come to a head in the classroom. You could say that the girls’ emotions had been put on hiatus, too.
But today, when the camping trip was beginning…
Mei Misaki was supposed to be isolated, but now she was talking completely at her ease with me—no big deal—as well as with guys like Mochizuki and Teshigawara, too. And then she sat at our table for dinner. As if she were ignoring the other girls, and most of all Akazawa, when it was supposed to be the other way around.
How could they not be disoriented by a situation like that? How could they not be disturbed by it? Frankly, it couldn’t have been fun.
During dinner, I had noticed occasional looks they had thrown in our direction from their table. At the same time, in a corner of my mind I’d pictured the conversation they were having: probably about us and probably not very nice.
In that moment when her permission was sought, Ms. Mikami’s reaction was sluggish enough to make me worry whether she was feeling all right. After several beats, she replied, “Oh…sure. Okay. Go ahead, Akazawa.”
Akazawa nodded mutely. Then, just as I’d expected, her eyes narrowed into a glare and turned on our table. Her voice came at us sharply. “Misaki! There’s something I want you to hear tonight.”
I watched Mei’s face in profile. She looked…calm.
“You, Misaki…And you, too, Sakakibara.”
Akazawa’s words came smoothly and her diction was perfect. She was like a spirited prosecutor standing in a courtroom.
“Several unfortunate things have happened since May, and that terrible thing that happened to Mr. Kubodera last month…I don’t have a clue if going on this trip will get things back under control, but at least for all those ‘disasters’ that have struck up until now…I think you bear some of the responsibility for them, Misaki.”
Mei, responsible for…?
Before I could challenge her to explain why, she said, “I think you have the same responsibility, Sakakibara.”
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