Chapter 1 (1/2)

Day 1: A Call from Mary-san[1]

A college student's summer break is the best.

Two whole months' worth of time you can use however you want. You're free to enjoy your youth in a sports club. You're free to slack off in a student organization. You're free to go to the ocean with friends. Of course, you're free to work part-time, probing out a chance for life, you're free to dejectedly turn back when you see the sheer volume of people at Big Sight[2], you're free to ride the rails aiming to be train man[3], and you're free to go to India to endow some exotic ancient power into your body.

Everyone has their own way of enjoying summer, and everyone spends their time as they please. But there is something one must always be wary of: just because you have the time, that doesn't mean you have any obligation to do something with it. Paradoxically, while it may be a time you can use to do anything, it is also a time you can do nothing at all. To summarize, this is the concept of enlightenment.

Therefore, at this very moment, I'm lying around an airconditioned room, arbitrarily flipping through a magazine I bought but never read.

The room's around ten square meters, plus full bath. In such a perfect environment for a college student like me to laze around, no one complains no matter what I do. Across the window gla.s.s, the cicadas cry out, and my room's half-broken air conditioner makes a clattering din. The crack of melting ice in my barley tea is my only refreshment.

Sea, mountain, river.

They're all splendid places to enjoy the summer- I've no mind to deny it- but even so, my room's all I need. My glorious room. Even if the wallpaper is a little ripped, even if one of the bulbs is out, and even if the ventilation fan reeks of oil, it's exceedingly difficult to replace this absolute s.p.a.ce for one. No matter how small it is, a man's home is his domain and his castle.

Now then it happened early afternoon, on a day where I was singing such praise of summer vacation.

It came without any forewarning, an abrupt beginning.

The call sound ringing through the s.p.a.ce where I was supposed to be alone. A musical ditty I might or might not have heard before, but as I thought about it carefully, I got the feeling I really had never heard it in all my life.

Right, it all pointed to a single truth.

… My smartphone was ringing.

”… Earthquake!”

Hitting on that possibility in an instant, I braced my body.

I mean, ever since I bought my phone, it's only ever made noise when my parents called or I received emergency alerts. I set a distinct ringtone for my family, therefore, this unfamiliar tone can only be the alert I've yet to hear, the emergency earthquake report.

Swiftly acting on my precise and logical decision, I hid under the bed at a speed that would amaze any c.o.c.kroach, peering at the screen of my phone while I was at it.

And yet. It was there that I found myself enveloped in shock.

”This can't be! A phone call, you say…!?”

Right… it was of all things, a phone call.

Of course, so what, you might be thinking. Looking at it through the lenses of common sense, it is only natural for a smartphone to ring. Whether it be smart or not, the phone part has yet to cast down the telephone's legacy.

But that is only a take that lies within the category of sense you call common. When it comes to my phone that exists in a realm far surpa.s.sing the bounds of such a petty common sense, this phenomenon was practically impossible.

”I-impossible…! Someone out there actually knows my phone number…!?”

I mean, excluding my family, I don't remember giving my number to anyone. If you want to make it sound cool, my smartphone held a true isolation from all communication devices outside of the family, it lay on essentially its own private network… I can only say it is inept as a phone.

For now, it looks like it's not an earthquake, so I crawl out from under the bed and tap the 'Answer' b.u.t.ton. The voice I hear from the other end is young… rather, it’s the voice of a young girl.

'… h.e.l.lo… h.e.l.lo!?'

The voice of a young girl I don't know… meaning, this is a miscall.

I give a slight nod. A miscall, it's just a miscall… I mean yeah, it did exist as a possibility. Even if no one knows my phone number, the number itself still exists. It isn't strange if someone might call it by mistake.

… Then whatever the case, for now, is it not my style as an adult to give a kind correspondence to this young girl fl.u.s.tered over a miscall? I lightly clear my throat, adjusting my voice to a gentle setting before answering.

”h.e.l.lo, who is this?”

'Um! I'm called Mary-san.'

”Oh my.”

Beep.

When I hit the hang-up b.u.t.ton, a light sound chimes out.

This is the magical part about phones. Without looking at someone's face, you can immediately cut them off when they become a pain. I get the feeling my granny in the country said something like that. No, she probably didn't.

Tossing the phone to the side, I spit out my held breathe.

I know. This is that, she's pretending to be that Mary-san from the urban legend.

I presume some girl with too much free summer break time on her hands tried to input some random number to commit mischief, and it just so happened to connect to me. Getting the number wrong is one thing; she might be a girl younger than me, and she might have a cute loli voice, but I'm not bored enough to earnestly answer a prank call.

That's how it is, so I retrieved my manga, and sprawled myself out to continue reading when the smartphone rung again. The display showed the same number as before.

After a prompt press of the 'Decline' b.u.t.ton, the phone went silent.

I read my manga in peace for a little while before, ping, a small sound rang out.

Looking at the screen, a free messaging app had popped up.

After unsteadily inputting some study groups around my enrollment, it was an app that simply ate up memory without a single exchange. Was there any real point in it exerting its existence this late in the game.

My interest piqued, I opened it up to find an exceedingly long message printed out.

'The summer rays make for a harsh season, but how are you holding up? It is a pleasure to meet you. I am called Mary, and I am something of an urban legend in training. I understand that I am making a sudden, discourteous request, but if you would be so kind, could you please answer the phone? Of course, I have no intention of using up your time, and I am not considering anything as brazen as requesting you to play the part of a conversation partner. That being said- mind you- if you refuse to hear out my initial utterance, then to someone who aims to be Mary-san such as myself, it is a considerable jolt to my mentality and…

(Omitted)

… So you see, I thought I would try my best and give it a go! When it comes to Mary-san, she's an urban legend with a bit of a name in this industry. So personally, I'd rather not remain a trainee; I think I'd quite like to become the real Mary-san. Therefore, um, if it isn't too troubling, could you please answer the phone…?'

… The h.e.l.l, was my honest thought.

This was quite out there. I don't know what to think of someone who tries so hard to push their own worldview onto another, and when it was this elaborate, it was too high up to be a game.

As I thought over that, my smart phone rang again.

When I tried answering for once, the words started rolling out like waves.

'… Ah, it got through! U-um, you see, having you hang up instantly without giving me the opportunity to name myself was considerably harsh on my emotional wellbeing. It was almost as if the meaning of my existence was being shaved away, or should I say, I experienced a sense of loss as if the world didn't need me… Um, when it comes to Mary-san, she's got that thing going where the voice itself is practically the legend's true essence! I'm begging you, please don't hang up!'

The emotion-rich voice of a young girl turned strangely tear-mingled around the end.

I offered the girl some earnest words in return.

”The reception must be failing. I can't hear a word she's saying… hanging up.”

'H-he can't hear me!? W-why…!? Ah, it can't be, the phone bill is…!? That… that can't be…!'

”Kuh… I think I might've heard something, but some parts of it are phasing out. So this is a magnetic storm! Curse you, magnetic storm! … As a recall, a recent theory holds that the voice frequency that travels best through a magnetic storm is the tone of a Kuudere little sister-in-law who's embarra.s.sed, but still wants to be doted on by her big brother…?”

'What!? U-umm, um… I-if you don't have to go out today, why don't you spend some time talking with me… I want to know more about you.'

”80 points. Splendid performance.”

'Ehehe, thank you… no, you were definitely hearing me from the start, right? And wait, before that even comes into question, was there any real point in making it a sister-in-law…?'

”Are you crazy? If it's a real sister, I can't get heated up over it. So who are you?”

When I asked, the girl answered in a pensive voice.

'… M-Mary-san won't be broken. U-um, well you see, ahem. I'm a Mary-san in training, and my name is Mary. On this occasion, you have been determined as a target. It is a pleasure working with you.'

”Hmm… you sound young.”

'I'm in training!'

Hehe, the supposed Mary laughed.

I don't think that's something to be that proud about.

”I see, I see, you're in training… and so?”

'Hmm? Something the matter?'

”No, even if you tell me you're a Mary-san in training, what's supposed to happen next?”

… It is here that I must make a confession.

To be perfectly honest, at that moment, I was thoroughly making light of this girl. At most, a slightly, no, considerably s.p.a.cy young girl had too much summer free time on her hands, so she was trying to use her phone to conduct mischief. I thought I would tag along with her delusions and tease her down.

However. In the next instant, my condescension was completely crumbled.

'…? Why isn't that obvious? I'm a Mary-san in training, so I'm going to make my way to where you are, umm, Hagimura Akira.'

”Wha…!?”

I couldn't say a word… naturally. I mean, that was my name.

While the name Akira was common enough, my last name wasn't the sort she could get on a lucky guess. Then do I know her? Have I simply forgotten this girl? … No, there's no way. From the way she speaks, there's no way I would ever forget such an intense young girl.

Did she get my number out of one of my friends… yeah, no. I don't have any friends.

'Can I call you Akira?'

”No, wait! … How do you know my name?”

'Eh? … I mean, I'm a Mary-san in training.'

”Something like that is…”

Impossible, right? I tried to say, when my words were cut off.

'Ah, could it be you don't believe me? … Fufufu, in that case, I'll show you the power of Mary-san! Irregularity of the order ghost story, family urban legend, genus Mary-san, the power of Mary, formal apprentice of Mary-san… a clairvoyance that sees through a person's background!'

Irregularities have that sort of taxological cla.s.sification? Without giving me a chance to retort, Mary began to speak.

'I see, I see. Akira, you were born in Hokkaido, eh? I've never been there before, but as Mary-san, I really should make the trip at least once… and, umm, your family consists of you, your parents and one younger sister. Ah, I see. That's why you didn't want a real sister…?'

”It's been a while since I've felt such an urge to say 'none of your business'!”

”You achieved excellent grades throughout middle and high school, and are currently enrolled in a public university in the Aomori Prefecture… Aomori, is it.”

There, Mary's voice went just a little stiff.

It irritated me somewhat, so I offered a reb.u.t.tal.

”Something wrong with Aomori? It's a good place you know. Not too many people, lots of land, the rent is cheap, and the apples and cherries are real tasty. It's ridiculously easy to live here.”

'Ah! T-that's not what I was trying to… no, let's just put that off for now. Anyways, right now, you are… p-pervert! Pervert, pervert, pervert!'

”!?”

She suddenly started shouting.

I have no idea what's going on.

”… What's wrong, did a pervert show up? Then for now, run away. No matter what, don't think about fighting. Concentrate all your thoughts on moving your legs. Summer's the season where the heat gets to everyone's heads and the loonies multiply in numbers. For now, cut the line and call 110[4]…”

”W-wrong! I'm talking about you, pervert!”

… Hmm? I tilt my head.

Is she perhaps talking to me? Have I just been called a pervert.

This sincere and honest gentleman? Good grief, your jokes are harsh, little lady.

”Oy, oy, what are you talking about, Mary? I don't really get it, but why all of a sudden?”