Boogiepop Returns VS Imaginator Part 1 (13 page)

“I will not.”

“From now on, you work for the Towa Organization as one of our living terminals.”

“I am a terminal.”

“The sex drive that troubles you no longer exists,” Spooky E's fingers slid between Shinjirou's forehead and his eyes. Hunting for the hypothalamus and the limbic system.

'No sex drive.”

“You are no longer lonely.”

“Not lonely.”

“You don't want a lover. . .  you don't want friends.”

“I don't.”

These quiet questions and answers continued for another thirty minutes.

Eventually, Spooky E whispered in Shinjirou's ear, “You will enter Shinyo Academy and await instructions.”

“I will.”

“Programming complete. Reset all systems, reactivate in ten minutes.”

“Complete.”

And with that, Shinjirou's body toppled over, immobile.

***

“I'm home.”

Hearing the voice from the doorway, Anou Kumiko jumped up from the sofa. She had dozed off

Curiously, that was her son Shinjirou's voice. She hurriedly looked at the clock, but quickly realized that he was home more than an hour earlier than when cram school should have let out. She had not overslept.

“What's wrong, Shin-chan?” she asked. “Did something happen at cram school?”

Her son looked much more relaxed than usual. The closer the test got, the more stressed out he'd become, but that seemed to have vanished.

'No, I quit,” he said, calmly.

Kumiko freaked. “EH?! Wh-what's that supposed to mean?”

“My scores have been taking a nose dive. I realized I was going to the wrong school,” he answered readily.

“B-but. . . all on your own? And wasn't it your idea to go in the first place?”

“I switched to a different school. The one by the station.” He mentioned the name of a big school that handled college entrance exam students as well.

Kumiko was taken aback, but when she heard that he'd already done all the paperwork and paid for the course fees, she frowned. “With what money?”

“I had some savings.”

“How much?”

“Two hundred thousand yen.”

She was staggered. She had known he had that kind of money saved up from New Year's presents and the like, but for him to use that money on studying was unthinkable.

“I want to get into a prefectural school, at least,” he continued, composedly.

“Sh-Shin-chan. . .” Kumiko couldn't decide if she should be happy at her son's newfound maturity or to continue freaking out over his rash decisions.

“But first, what's for dinner? I didn't get anything on the way home. . .”

He ate twice as much as usual.

“Um, Shin-chan?” Kumiko asked, hesitantly.

He looked up from his third bowl of rice. “'What?”

“Which school are you thinking about?”

“Shinyo Academy. I should be able to make that level. . . if I start now.”

“You. . . you really want to?”

“It's worth a shot. I've been dragging my feet way too long, though. . .” He shook his head.

Kumiko wasn't sure why, but she couldn't stop worrying.

When he finished dinner he went straight to his room and started studying.

Kumiko snuck a peek, and found him actually at his desk, without the headphones he always had on, plugging away at his study guides and notes.

“. . . . . . . . . “

She held her breath, unable to tear herself away from the crack in the door. Yet her son never moved, continuing to study away in exactly the same position for hours like he had become some kind of machine.

Eventually her husband came home, and Kumiko hurriedly told him what was happening.

“Mm? Sounds great. Finally found some motivation.”

“But there's something strange about him. Like. . . oh, I can't put it into words. . .” She must have looked very high strung at that moment.

Her husband frowned in irritation. “Come off it. You're his mother. He's the one taking the test. You put too much pressure on him and he won't be able to concentrate,” he snapped.

“Yes, I know, but. . .”

“Sounds like you've got a case of exam nerves. Just take a deep breath and relax, dear.”

“Okay. . .” Kumiko nodded in agreement. It was true that she wanted him to study more, and she couldn't deny that the current developments were a bit of a relief. And really, it wasn't that strange. . .

And with that, the intuitive doubt that had arisen inside her was washed away in a flood of sensible analysis.

***

General opinion of Anou Shinjirou abruptly improved. Everyone noticed that he had become more serious. This more motivated turn not only impressed the teachers, but also softened the views of his classmates. Most of all, everyone kept expressing surprise at his sudden lack of interest in Taniguchi Masaki.

“Well, I thought about it, and realized I was just jealous. And you know, that's really not cool. . .” Shinjirou said, and since Masaki's number one enemy had changed his mind, the other guys began to think differently as well, and soon none of them were openly bad mouthing Taniguchi Masaki.

The first group to come around was the very girls that had treated him like an insect before. “Huh. . . Anou-kun's not a bad guy after all. . .”

“All that conflict between him and Masaki-kun was just some stupid rivalry. . .” they said, spinning things positively all on their own.

Taniguchi Masaki himself was probably the only person who didn't pick up on the sea of change. His head was full of Orihata Aya, and he had no time for anything else.

Anou Shinjirou himself cared little for the reaction it provoked. He was simply plugging away at his studies, gradually getting closer to the benchmark for the high school he was aiming for.

“Well, Anou, you're doing very well. You should have no problem at all getting into Shinyo Academy,” his teacher said, during one of their counseling sessions.

“But I can't slack off now,” Shinjirou replied calmly.

“Hey, that's my line! Ha ha ha! But true, very true. Keep up the good work.”

“Yes.”

“You're living proof that all you have to do is put your mind to it. Don't think about anything else;just concentrate and you'll get there.”

“I think so too,” Shinjirou nodded quietly.

But his teacher frowned at him. “Hey. . . is something wrong?”

“What?”

“You're crying.”

“Huh?” Shinjirou put his hand to his eyes. His cheeks were wet. “I am? But why?” he murmured.

“You getting enough sleep? I mean, I'm glad you're working so hard, but maybe you ought to try and take things a little easier now.”

“. . . . . . . . . “

But Shinjirou had no answer. He just sat there, tears rolling down his cheeks, staring into space, unable to understand why he was crying.

***

“Dear Anou Shinjirou-kun,

I'm sorry to send you a letter like this so suddenly. I know this is a busy time for everyone, and no one has time to spare, but I have something I need to say to you.

I think I'm in love with you.

Isn’t that strange? I don't even know my own feelings. I know I softened the sentiment with a dumb phrase like “I think,” but that’s the truth of it.

Until just a while ago, I was like everyone else , and totally misunderstood you. You just seemed to always be angry about something, so it was hard to ever get near you. But. . .”

“. . . . . . . . . “

This letter was resting in his shoe locker when he left school. When he opened the letter, a whiff of perfume emerged. The paper was soaked in it. He started reading the letter with no reaction at all, and soon he realized it was a love letter.

“But recently, l started watching you, and I realized that you were only angry because the true nature of your feelings was not being understood.

Am I right? I'm sure I am. I understand. . .  because I feel the same way.

I know I might be making this all up, but I feel like you're the only one who can understand my feelings. l hate to trouble you, but will you meet ne? Just this once?

Please give me a chance. . .”

The letter continued, giving a date, time and place to meet. . . but no name.

“. . . . . . . . .” Shinjirou remained expressionless, just standing there holding the letter. He didn't know what to do, so he remained motionless.

Eventually, he moved stiffly over to a nearby phone booth.

Automatically, he dialed the number implanted in his brain.

The call was answered the moment it connected.

“State your name,” the high-pitched voice on the other end of the line said.

“D1229085. Urgent communication for Spooky E,” Shinjirou said, in a flat, mechanical tone.

“What, something happened?”

“Emergence of Emotional Circuit Response Case F. Disturbance level A.”

The man on the other end of the line clicked his tongue in irritation. “Report details.”

Shinjirou did so mechanically.

When he finished, the voice said, “Hmm. So this girl was drawn to a loner like you? Go for it, take her invitation. I'll permit it.”

“Understood. Permission received.”

“Where did she want to meet?”

Shinjirou told him, and Spooky E made a pleased chuckle. “Rather a lonely place for a romantic tryst, mm'? Bet you anything that girl wants you to do her. Hee hee hee hee.”

“. . . . . . . . . “

“Okay, that place might do just fine, but if it looks like there are other people around, try and lure her out to some place deserted. I'll 'condition' her.”

“. . . . . . . . . “

“Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Okay, when you hang up the phone you will return to normal mode in twelve seconds. You will forget about the letter until it is time for the meeting.”

“I understand. I will hang up.”

He hung up, put the letter in his bag, stood for a few seconds absently, and when he hit the twelve second mark, snapped out of it, and left the school, heading for his cram school, same as he always did.

He sat through classes like always, and during the short lull between classes, he found a spot on a bench in the rest area and ate a hamburger.

Around him were several children his age, and a group of high school kids studying for college.

Right next to Shinjirou, one such girl said, “Oh god, what is this? Help me, Suemaaa!”

“Touka! At this stage of the game, you
have
to know
this
!”

“I know, but. . .”

The two girls were studying together. Their uniforms were obviously from ShinyoAcademy, which is where he was planning to go to high school, but he paid them no attention.

“. . . . . . . . .” While he ate, he flipped through his vocabulary book.

But his hand stopped for a moment.

His gaze was drawn to a painting hung on the wall opposite him.

It was a painting of a great crowd of people sitting in a wasteland, holding hands. There were several black goats around them, eating the rose bushes that grew in the wilderness.

“ . . . . . . .. . . ..” He couldn't take his eyes off it.

Eventually the bell rang, and everyone got up and went back to their classrooms, but Shinjirou just sat there, motionless.

Left alone, as if frozen to his seat.

“ . . . . . . . . . . . .”

Ever since Spooky E had “conditioned” him, Shinjirou had stopped thinking on his own. He simply followed the implanted instructions and the expectations of those around him, dutifully.

So why was he unable to respond to this painting, like he had been nailed to the floor?

“. . . . . . . . . . . .” He stared up at the painting.

From behind him, a voice said, “What you are experiencing is what we call 'emotion.”'

Shinjirou turned around. Behind him stood a young man in white clothes.

“Uh. . .” He could swear he'd seen the guy somewhere before, but he couldn't remember where. Yet he
had
seen him. Where was it. . . ?

The man seemed to think they hadn't spoken before. At the previous meeting, the man had been unable to see Shinjirou, so he didn't recognize him. Neither one of them knew that they were meeting for the second time.

“Your heart was moved by something in that painting. But you've had no such experience in your life before, so you had no sample data inside to tell you how to react,” the man in white said quietly, walking towards Shinjirou.

“ . . . . . . . . . . . .” Shinjirou said nothing. He was unable to react to this man as well.

“You're Anou Shinjirou, right? From the public school last minute preparation course?” The man in white sat down next to Shinjirou.

“Yes, I am.”

“My name is Asukai Jin. I'm in charge of the national art school preparation course here. I've had my eye on you, Anou-kun.” He smiled gently.

“Why?” Shinjirou asked.

The man raised one eyebrow, as if joking. “You probably don't know.”

“Know what?”

“That you have absolutely no hope,” he said, calmly, but with a trace of sadness.

“What does that mean. . . ?” Shinjirou asked.

But the man didn't answer. He stood up, slowly turned his back, and whispered, “The man who played with your heart worked for the Towa Organization, correct?”

This word was implanted deep inside Shinjirou. The moment he heard it, his body moved automatically.

His lungs screamed at the sudden motion, but he ignored them, flinging his body towards the man.

Even though his back was turned, the man stepped lightly to one side, easily dodging Shinjirou's lunge.

Shinjirou's body was carried onwards, flying into the tables and chairs opposite.

There was a huge crashing sound.

Bleeding from several places, Shinjirou sprang to his feet again. There was no trace of emotion on his face.

His head turned, looking for the man.

The man did not run, but instead, he stood his ground.

“Hmph. . .” A cruel smile appeared on his lips.

Shinjirou --  or rather the body being controlled by implanted instructions launched himself towards the man again.

This time, he grabbed the man. He pushed him over, and tried to put one arm around his neck to strangle him.