Foreword
Finally, I feel like writing this. By “this”, of course, I mean this story.
Before I do that, though, I need to talk to you a little about what stories are.
We read stories. These stories can be movies. TV shows. Manga. Books. Anything.
Of course, we read to enjoy. But “enjoying” something like this means wondering how it’s going to end... or at least, it does a lot of the time. In other words, there’s an expectation that there’ll be some kind of end.
Of course, there are probably stories where you’ve said, “This is going to end soon, and I wish it wouldn’t.” But even in those cases, you only say that because you know stories have endings.
Put bluntly, stories are either about whether the protagonists die or are saved. That’s why any stories that move people - and I include myself in this - begin with an ending. This goes for both tragedy and comedy, too. Complex chains of events all lead up to a conclusion, where a combination of coincidences and human action collide and explode into one ultimate point! And this point is why “stories” exist. A character’s “fate,” whether it’s a happy ending or the Grim Reaper’s scythe, exists only for the purposes of the ending.
And if you’ve read this series so far, you know that stories are fictional, and yet control so much of our lives.
In other words... Yes. We think of stories starting from the ending.
A man meets a woman... and they get together, or they break up.
A crime is committed... The culprit is caught, or escapes.
A life is lived... It ends in happiness, or destruction.
Every choice we make is infected with the virus we call “stories”. Our own free will has nothing to do with it. People can’t perceive time objectively. Instead, they perceive it as a story.
It was just after the turn of the millennium, I think. I was in front of a condo in Yamato City, in Kanagawa Prefecture, when I got a call from an old friend. I thought they were calling to go hang out, but instead they were telling me that my ex-girlfriend, who I’d broken up with six months ago, had died. I hadn’t talked to her once since we broke up, but my friend had heard what happened from someone else.
“Huh? Really?”
“Really. Once I know more, I’ll call you.”
“Wow... You’re sure about this?”
“Yeah. Anyway, that’s what’s up...”
“Okay, got it. Thanks for letting me know.”
That’s how I remember the conversation. Completely devoid of meaning. I didn’t feel depressed or confused. I didn’t feel much of anything. But the next day, when I got a call from that same friend to tell me how she died, for some reason, I felt like something was chasing after me.
I felt cold and scared, and the sweat wouldn’t stop dripping down my cheeks.
It wasn’t that her death finally felt real to me, or anything like that. It never did feel “real” to me. I wasn’t going to ever see her again, anyway. The fact that I couldn’t, even if I wanted to, didn’t change a thing.
The cause of her death was something stupid and ridiculous.
She’d had a bad headache, and taken a little more of the medicine she always took than she was supposed to. It wasn’t suicide by sleeping pills. She was used to the medicine, and sometimes she’d taken more of it and suffered no ill effects. The direct cause of death was similar to what’s known as “Economy Class Syndrome”: an arterial blood clot.
The cause of death was sleeping in the same position for many hours, without getting any water.
The words “If only I hadn’t broken up with her...” flashed through my mind. Not to brag, but I’m pretty good at taking care of other people. I would’ve kept track of how much medicine she was taking, and made sure she was getting some mild exercise every day.
But that was actually the reason she’d broken up with me. She’d found that part of me annoying, she said.
—Maybe she’d still be alive today... I thought. If only I’d taken care of her...
No, but of course, that was impossible. It was impossible, but still...
That was what was freaking me out so much. She’d chosen a death that was close to a suicide. No, she had something within her personality that made her more likely than others to die. She was oblivious to her own physical condition, but sensitive to anything that threatened her mind. She chose passivity over action. And her personality was inclined to interpret goodwill as a personal attack. Over the long term, in every respect she was continually choosing death.
Most people say that animals that choose to kill themselves are insane. Supposedly, lemmings committed suicide en masse, but we know now that that’s a lie. (The lie got started when a certain documentary faked them jumping off a cliff.)
There are lots of confirmed cases of animals committing suicide, but as we research them more, we learn that almost all of these are caused either by parasites or poison from another animal. The hairworm, for instance, infects the body of a praying mantis and causes it to jump in the water. Hairworms can only reproduce in water, so they kill their host and then escape into the water.
There’s also a certain type of bee that can control a cockroach’s brain after it implants it with its eggs. The poison it injects steals the cockroach’s free will, and makes it so that even as the larvae hatch and devour its body, it doesn’t feel any pain. And for as long as it’s possible for the cockroach to walk, the bee leads it to its nest. So it’s literally walking toward its own grave.
Humans, of course, are living creatures too. So shouldn’t we try to live, no matter what happens? Doesn’t that mean that suicide should be impossible?
Yes. Humans never die of their own free will.
So what is “suicide”, then? There can only be one answer. Somebody is controlling our brains. I’ll say it again. Our minds are infected with a virus called “stories” that someone has injected us with. That’s why humans commit suicide. That’s why they do reckless things, and die.
But while stories are parasites, they can also bring gifts to humanity. People can’t perceive time objectively. They perceive time as stories. And sentience couldn’t have been born without the ability to perceive time. Stories are what make us conscious beings.
So what happens if we give up stories? No. We have to give them up. If we don’t, we’re finished.
All stories have an end. And when that time comes for humanity, it means our destruction. And when that time comes, we’ll know why the being who planted stories within us did so.
Will something hatch from within our brains?
Or after death, will we be devoured by some huge creature?
And if that’s true, can we give up stories now?
As primitive humans, we must think about what it was that gave rise to “stories”.
So... Let’s go see.
1 - Even in Hell, We Live Our Lives
Junko refused to move away from Akuto, and Akuto didn’t try to push her away. There was a forest in front of them, and they had to enter it. That was unnerving enough on its own, but this was the afterlife. Well, they didn’t know exactly where they were, but this was all they could call it.
Either way, they had no idea where they were or why they were here.
Ahead, forest.
Behind, sea.
And the forest and the sea seemed to go on forever. They were standing on a beach.
Akuto thought to himself that waves crashing on a beach were the perfect background to the apocalypse.
“This is different than VPS... No, maybe it’s the same? But what we’re seeing...”
“Yeah. It kind of feels like... exactly how I expected the afterlife to look like,” Junko s
aid as she looked into the forest.
“Dante’s Divine Comedy... starts in a forest, doesn’t it?”
“I know what you mean. But we never really believed anything like that. We just know what’s in the Christian books, and associate that with the afterlife. But you’re right. It’s strange that this would seem exactly like the afterlife.”
Akuto took Junko by the hand and gestured toward the forest.
“Either way, the forest is the only place to go.”
The beach didn’t go on forever. It was blocked on either side by sheer cliffs.
“Y-Yeah... But it’s a little scary, you know? There’s no path...”
Junko followed him into the forest, trembling.
“No, I can just make a path for us...” Akuto began, but just after he moved two or three trees out of the way, a path appeared.
“That’s... helpful. I guess there is a path,” Junko said, with a forced smile on her face.
“I guess that means people have been here before,” Akuto commented, stepping onto the path and looking ahead.
It was a solid dirt path, with no weeds or grass growing on it, that snaked through the forest. From here, he couldn’t see where it ended.
“Does that mean somebody’s here? I-I hope not...” Junko looked around, worried.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” Akuto said, heading forward.
“Of course I’m worried. Whoever’s here is already dead...” Junko said, following after him.
“So are we.”
“Well, it doesn’t really feel that way...”
“Most of humanity must be dead. So if everybody we know is already here, it can’t be that much more dangerous than it was before.”
“Y-You know, you really adapt to things fast...”
As she traveled down the path, Junko’s trembling footsteps began to get a little more steady. She was still scared, though. But since she refused to let go of Akuto’s arm, he dropped his speed to match hers.
“It’s the same here too, I guess,” Akuto said.
“What is? This place seems really different than the world when we were alive...”
“No, I mean the fact that we can still see clearly even though we’re in a forest. Didn’t you notice? There’s light here.”
She looked around and found that he was right.
“Yeah. You’re right... I didn’t see any sun, but we could still see on the beach.”
“The leaves block out the sky here, too. There’s no light, but we can see. That’s what it means, I guess.”
“Considering we’re in the afterlife... Maybe it’s not that strange. Oh, right. In the Divine Comedy, isn’t this about where the beasts show up?” Junko said, her voice trembling.
And just then, with perfect timing, they heard a distant howl.
“Aah!” Junko screamed
Akuto, however, could tell that it was a four legged beast, perhaps a lion or a wolf. It seemed, if anything, to be a little too precise a match with the book.
“I used to work in a zoo, and I’ve never heard an animal roar like that.”
“R-Really? Then is it a monster or something?” Junko’s voice was still shaking.
“It seems unlikely... And anyway, it didn’t seem like there was anything alive in this forest until now.”
“Oh, you’re right...” Junko nodded.
The roaring stopped.
“Hmm...” Akuto said to himself, as if he’d figured something out.
“Which means that there’ll be a town at the end of the path.”
Junko’s eyes went wide.
“No way. That’s impo-”
Her sentence cut off midway. The path curved gently before reaching the end of the forest. Below them was a town. They were standing on the mountain overlooking the school, and beyond it, the imperial capital.
“W-What the hell is going on here?” Junko said, confused.
The capital looked peaceful, just like it did before the war. It felt like they’d gone back in time. From the position of the sun, it was likely a little past noon. The strange jump in time only made the dizziness she was feeling stronger. Akuto seemed to have seen it coming, but he was still a little spooked.
“I knew it... But this is still a little surprising.”
“W-What is it you knew?” She grabbed him tightly. She was shocked, but more than that, she didn’t know why it seemed like Akuto knew what was going on.
“I’m not sure, but I think this place reflects our desires.” Akuto answered
“Our desires? I’m not sure I follow.”
“It feels to me like everything that I’m seeing is something you’re thinking about.”
“Sure, it did feel like the things that I was scared of actually happened...” Junko nodded as if she understood.
“Yeah. It explains how we could see without light. And that roar in the forest.”
“Maybe, but...” Junko closed her eyes and concentrated her mind. A few seconds later, she opened them.
“You’re sure about this?”
“If this world... If the afterlife reflects our thoughts, then maybe only strong thoughts work.”
“Basic magical training means I should be able to create strong thoughts...”
Junko made a mana ball in her hand and spun it.
“You may only be able to do that because you’re used to doing it so much. Given what this world is, my thoughts should be the strongest. What we saw at the beach may have been caused by my subconscious... I wasn’t able to control my fear and uneasiness then.”
“Maybe, but...”
“Which gives me a hint as to this world’s possibilities, and its limits...” Akuto said, but then a voice interrupted them.
“Hello!”
It was Yoshie Kita, walking down the path towards them.
“Kita?”
“Yoshie?”
The two stared at her in surprise. It was indeed Yoshie Kita.
“From the look on your faces, you don’t really think it’s me, huh?”
“Of course not. I mean...”
Yoshie cut Junko off before she could continue.
“No, I understand. It makes sense. I just got here, so I’m not 100% sure what’s going on. But this phenomenon... No, this ‘event’ I guess you could call it...”
She was talking just like Yoshie usually talked. This time it was Akuto who cut her off which a chuckle.
“Essentially, we’re in a place where the wishes of the dead are granted.”
Yoshie grinned and nodded.
“You’ve got it. You always were a smart one, Akuto.”
Junko looked at them and shook her head in confusion.
“I heard that too. But if that’s the case, then it’s weird that you’re here, isn’t it? I mean, it’s possible that you only exist because Akuto or I want to see you, but...” She frowned.
She was right. If Yoshie was only there because of their wishes, there was no way of saying if she was real. But Yoshie was unconcerned.
“Of course, you’re right. But even if that’s the case, what’s the problem?”
“Huh? Are you saying... that it isn’t a problem?” Junko said, surprised.
“I’ve got memories from before I saw you. Of course, it’s possible that those memories were only created in this instant... but anyway, according to those memories, as long as you don’t think too deeply about it, you can survive here just fine,” she said, confidently.
“So we’re... safe here?” Junko said, uneasily. Yoshie nodded.
“You can pass messages from other people, and people can disagree. It feels like people have individual personalities here. Of course, I’ve got my own personality, as you know. I’ve doubted and investigated. But you know, it’s impossible to PROVE that anybody really is an independent, thinking person. So I just decided not to think about it.”
Yoshie pointed towards the town.
“Look. The town’s filled with people. It works, even when we’re not l
ooking at it. Our lives, at least, are just like they used to be.”
Akuto raised an eyebrow. Something seemed off to him about that.
“What does that last part mean?” Yoshie shrugged, as if it was something that was hard to answer.
“Of course, a lot of stuff’s different. The student council president should explain it, not me. I’ll just make it more complicated than it needs to be,” Yoshie said, and then continued walking ahead of them. It was clear she was going to lead them to the school
“We’re going to school?” Junko asked, with a hint of nostalgia.
“That’s right. It’s the easiest place to live around here.” School seemed to be in session, and no students were outside. But when they looked at the windows, the class was filled with students.
“I guess it’s just like it used to be,” Akuto said.
“Some things you’ll find are going to surprise you, though,” Yoshie said, and then called the student council president on her student handbook. Then she took Akuto to her.
Of course, the school was just as it had been before, and Akuto didn’t need anybody to show him the way. Lily, who had evidently been called out of class, said, “You’re probably curious about this place, aren’t you?” and then pulled up a mana screen on the desk to show him the data the “gods” were displaying.
“You might have expected more of an introduction, but to me, it doesn’t feel like any time has passed. You don’t seem like that unusual of a visitor to me,” Lily said, offering Akuto a seat.
“To me, this is a touching reunion,” Akuto said, and he meant it, but Lily just grinned sardonically.
“Stop it. I don’t want to hear that from the guy who blew up the world.”
She motioned for him to look at the mana screen’s data. It was a list of statistics about the residents of the current empire.
“This is the world from before I was determined to be the Demon King, isn’t it?” Akuto said, figuring out what she wanted to show him after just a short glimpse through the list.
“You’re so smart it’s honestly annoying, you know.” Lily sighed.
“But it helps a lot. I don’t have all these stats memorized. So let’s go back as far as we can.”
Lily began to go back through the years of recorded statistics. Akuto looked at them and nodded.
Demon King Daimaou: Volume 13 Page 1