Another, Vol. 1 (24 page)

That day, I got back to my grandparents’ house in Koike after nine o’clock at night.

Dinnertime was long past.

I’d called on my cell phone to tell them I’d be back late, but I hadn’t gotten through; so my grandmother’s worry had swelled almost to panic, and I got the feeling that if I’d gotten home even ten minutes later, she would have called the police. She lectured me soundly, but the laudable act of a grandchild saying “I’m sorry, Grandma” calmed her more than I would have expected.

“Where were you lollygagging around at this hour?”

I had thoroughly anticipated the question, and I answered in the most innocent tone I could. “I was at a kid’s house. I think we’re friends now.”

That was all I said. Even if she’d asked more, I wasn’t planning to tell her.

Reiko had gotten home before me, and I guess it was natural, but she acted pretty concerned about me, too. They looked as if they were about to hit me with some more questions, but in the end I didn’t discuss it in detail that night. I just couldn’t summon the energy for it.

I finished my meal in silence and hurried up to the second floor, where I lay down on the futon spread out in my study room/bedroom.

Physically, I was exhausted; but in contrast, my mind was totally sharp. I rested an arm across my forehead and forced my eyes closed. Then, almost automatically, the conversation I’d had with Mei Misaki only hours earlier began to replay in my mind…

One person in the class is treated as if they’re “not there.” Doing that balances the books and the “disasters” for that year brought about by the “extra person,”—that is,, “the casualty” who’s snuck into the class—are prevented. At the least, they can be weakened. That was the “talisman” that had been suggested, executed, and proven effective for the last ten years.

At first, they had thought this year
nothing would happen
, but when they realized that a transfer student—me—was coming after the start of the new semester and they would have “one extra person,” the anxiety that this year might take an irregular course spread through the class…And as a result, Mei Misaki was forced to assume the role of the one who’s “not there.” Starting in May, one month later than usual. And then…

The storyline had entered my mind step-by-step, but I just couldn’t accept it as anything real. Even after Mei had finished explaining the broad overview, I still couldn’t completely shake my bewilderment.

When I went there, I hadn’t intended to doubt what she told me. Not in the slightest. But…even so, I felt some resistance to completely letting go and believing everything she said.

“That’s why you should have been let in on it the very first day you came to school, Sakakibara. You should have gone along with everyone else and treated me as if I was ‘not there.’ Because otherwise the
talisman
weakens. But then at lunch that day, you just came up and started talking to me.”

When Mei mentioned it, I recalled again the scene on that day.

H-hey! Sakakibara!

What are you doing, Sakakibara?

The dismayed sound of Teshigawara’s and Kazami’s voices. As they watched me hurry over to where Mei sat on the bench in the shade of the trees, the two had thought: “Uh-oh.”

No question, they’d thought “Uh-oh” and had panicked because they had to stop me from what I was doing. But then, it had been so sudden that there was nothing they could have done…

Why?

Mei had asked me that then.

Are you sure about this?

And that.

It was only now that I felt I understood what she’d meant, and what the things she’d said next meant.

You should be careful.

You…should be careful. It might have started already.

“If it was such an important ‘decision,’ why didn’t anyone tell me about it sooner?”

I’d said it half to myself, but Mei replied, “They probably couldn’t find the right moment. Maybe they thought it was hard to bring up for some reason. I already mentioned this, but I don’t think anyone had thought about it that deeply.”

“It’s because I ran into you in the hospital before any of it had even happened…So I was surprised when I saw you in the classroom. That’s why I just went up to you that day. Nobody knew I’d seen you before, so they probably couldn’t have anticipated that I would reach out to you that fast.”

“…Yeah.”

“And after that, I ended up being the only one in class who kept on interacting with you, never knowing what was going on. And that stirred up everyone’s anxiety a little bit more every time…”

“That’s what it was.”

This also explained Yukari Sakuragi’s odd reaction during gym that day. In fact, hadn’t she been obsessing over whether or not I had heard “something” from Teshigawara and Kazami?

Teshigawara had, in fact, probably tried to tell me “something” during lunch. Yes, I’d spotted Mei right as he was bringing it up by telling me “There’s actually something we—” after the three of us had gone toward Building Zero, talking about nothing in particular…

…And then.

After art class the next day.

I’ve been meaning talk to you about this since yesterday…

Teshigawara had said that to me, but Mochizuki, who’d been with us, had stopped him.

I don’t think you can do that anymore.

I felt as if I even understood the nuance behind him saying “anymore” now.

I had already had contact with Mei, so talking to me in a way that might inadvertently acknowledge that “a student named Mei Misaki exists” wouldn’t be all right
anymore
. That was the sort of apprehension Mochizuki must have felt then.

And then their reaction when I’d gone into the secondary library, where Mei was, right after that.

H-hey, Sakaki. You’re not really…

S-Sakakibara? What are you…?

And it wasn’t just them.

At the root of the conflict/dismay that the class as a whole had shown in all kinds of cases ever since I’d transferred here, there must have been constant anxiety and, after all, fear and dread. Not toward Mei Misaki. Toward the “disasters” for this year that might start because I was interacting with her.

“I got a call from Teshigawara on my cell phone out of nowhere, trying to warn me. He told me ‘Quit paying attention to
things that aren’t there.
It’s dangerous.’”

It had been the week before the midterm exams. When I had run up to the roof of Building C looking for Mei.

“I guess from his point of view, he was making a decisive move to stop me from messing with the
talisman
anymore.”

“Probably.”

Mei gave a small nod.

“He told me something else that day, too. He said he’d tell me about what happened twenty-six years ago once June started. But then even after June started, he never told me a word. He said things had changed.”

“That was because Sakuragi had died.”

“…But why?”

“You interacted with me and violated the ‘decision’ they’d gone to so much trouble to uphold. I don’t think they could help being nervous that the
talisman
wasn’t going to work anymore. But what if nothing had happened in May, despite what you’d done?”

“You mean…if no one had died?”

“Right. If that had happened, that would mean this year was an ‘off year’ after all. So there wouldn’t be any need to keep
the talisman
going…That’s why.”

“…I see.”

If that had happened, then there wouldn’t have been any need to keep things so unnaturally concealed from me anymore. They’d be able to relax and explain the situation. And they’d be able to dump the weird “strategy” of treating one of their classmates as if they were not there…Speaking of which.

“So then when Sakuragi and her mother died like that, that forecast bombed? It made it obvious that this year is an ‘on year’ and that the ‘disasters’ had already started, so…”

So Teshigawara had told me “Things are different now than they were when I said that.”

…Putting everything together like this, the alienness and doubts that had dug at my heart were clearing bit by bit, but…

“Can I ask you something?”

It was a vague issue that had been nagging at me ever since I first talked to Mei at school.

“It’s your name tag.”

“…Huh?”

“It looks so dirty and tattered. Why is it like that?”

“Oh…Did I look like a ghost wearing an old name tag?”

Her cheeks softened slightly at the joke.

“I had an unfortunate accident,” Mei replied. “I dropped my name tag in the laundry and didn’t notice, so it got washed. It’s a pain to get a new one, so…”

Urk. That’s all it had been?

Collecting myself, I went on to ask one more question. “What about how your desk is the only one in the class that’s old? Is there a reason for that?”

“Oh, that,” Mei answered with a serious look this time. “That’s part of
the custom
. The student who’s ‘not there’ gets assigned a desk like that. There are still old desks and chairs in the classrooms that we don’t use anymore on the second floor of Building Zero. They brought it over from there. Maybe it has some kind of meaning as part of making the
talisman
work.”

“I see. Y’know, I looked at the scratches on that desk.”

“You what?”

“The one that says ‘who is “the casualty”?’ You wrote that, didn’t you?”

“…I did.” Mei lowered her eyes and nodded. “I know that I’m not ‘the casualty.’ So then who in our class could it be this year? That’s what it means.”

“Ah. Oh, but—”

It was then that a kind of mean question slithered into my mind. I voiced it thoughtlessly.

“So
you
can be sure that you’re not ‘the casualty,’ huh?”

Mei didn’t answer.

“Before, didn’t you say that the ‘memory modification’ affected even ‘the casualty’ themselves? So then how could anyone be sure it’s not them?”

At a loss for words, Mei shut her mouth and blinked her right eye to hide her discomfort. I do believe that was the first time I’d ever seen her react like that.

“I’m telling you…”

When at last she began to speak, Mei shut her mouth once again.

It was then that the door to the room opened. Mei’s mother entered. The doll maker of “Studio M,” Kirika.

She must have been working in the studio on the second floor until that very moment. Kirika’s wardrobe had a rough look. She wore black jeans with a black shirt just like Mei, and a marigold-colored bandanna over her hair.

She was tall for a woman, and since she wasn’t wearing any makeup, the fundamental attractiveness of her features was easy to see. She had a certain resemblance to Mei, certainly, but she seemed to be cloaked in an air far colder than Mei’s; I can’t say why. When we’d spoken on the phone, the whisper of uneasiness I’d detected in her responses had projected a different image.

At first, she looked at me as if she’d beheld some mythical beast.

“This is my friend Sakakibara. He’s the one who called.”

When Mei introduced me, her mother let out an “Oh,” and her expression changed. She had been doll-like and expressionless up to that point, but then pretty much in the space of a second, an unnaturally broad smile came over her face.

“Welcome to our home! I’m sorry you have to see me like this.” As she spoke, she pulled the bandanna off her head. “This is a rare sight, my daughter bringing a friend over. It’s Sakakibara, right?”

“Uh, yes.”

“She never tells me how school’s going. Are you a friend from class? Or maybe the art club?”

Art club? Was Mei in the art club? So then she and Mochizuki had been…

“Sakakibara is also a visitor at the gallery downstairs. He happened across it and came in, and I guess he really liked it. We’ve been talking about dolls all day.”

Mei spoke to her own mother in a stilted way. It sounded completely routine, not as though it was something special she was doing for this moment.

“You don’t say!” Kirika’s smile became even more buddy-buddy. “That’s unusual for a boy. Have you always liked dolls?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I replied, feeling beyond tense. “Oh, but, uh, this was the first time I’d ever seen dolls like you have here up close…So, um, I was really surprised.”

“Surprised?”

“Uh, I mean, I don’t really know how to explain…”

In the overly air-conditioned room, in a complete reversal from earlier, sweat was threatening to break out all over my body.

“Um, the dolls here—did you make them in the studio on the second floor, Kirika? I mean, ma’am?”

“That’s right, I did. Which of the little darlings did you like best?”

When she asked me that, the first thing that came to mind was the doll of the little girl in the coffin, resting in the back of the basement display room, but…

“Oh, um…”

I was far too self-conscious to just up and tell her that, and I let my voice fade away. It probably would have seemed pretty comical to a bystander.

“You should get home soon, Sakakibara,” Mei cut in then, thankfully.

“Oh…yeah.”

“I’ll walk him part of the way,” she informed her mother, then got up from the sofa. “Sakakibara just moved here from Tokyo in April. He doesn’t know his way around yet.”

“Did you really?”

The smile that had been there a moment before vanished from Kirika’s face. It was the same doll-like expressionlessness she’d worn when she came into the room. Still, her voice retained its friendly silkiness.

“You come over whenever you like.”

I walked side by side with Mei down the darkened streets, where night had fallen completely. Mei was on the left and I was on the right. That way, the eye that wasn’t a “doll’s eye” could see me easily.

A warm, wet wind was blowing, bringing the promise of the rainy season. It was sodden with humidity and should have felt clinging. But right now I found it strangely pleasant.

“Is it always like that?” I asked, breaking the silence that had drawn on into an awkward tension.