Vol Chapter 7 (2/2)

Lately, the girls had been going out periodically to eat or go shopping.

“Huh? You went there? Nice! It’s not easy for a guy to go there alone. Next time, can you take me along? …I wanna have some recommendations for when Teacher wakes up.”

“…All right.”

Stella acknowledged Joshua’s request. Just like that, the room was silent. Joshua suddenly looked back at me with realization.

“Allen, what’ve you been up to? Report in!”

“Um… I like that TV series they show on Thursday nights, so the other day, I bought the book it’s based on. And then the book next to it had a really pretty cover, so I bought that one too. Then I also bought a book I’d wanted before, but was sold out at the time, and…”

“Agh, enough! Enough! No more about anything printed! It’s seriously always books with you, Allen! You’re gonna turn into a real live bookworm someday!”

“…And you’ve been talking about nothing but that basketball club of yours, Joshua. Maybe someday you’ll turn into a ball?”, I joked. We looked at each other and laughed.

We met at Teacher’s hospital room occasionally when our schedules aligned, bringing letters to Teacher in the form of paper planes.

We knew they wouldn’t be delivered to him there or anything, that it was just for consolation. But just getting those who lived in that facility to meet face to face blew away plenty of my hesitation and pain.

“…Oh yeah, the desk is getting full of paper planes now. We can’t throw them away… So what should we do?”

“I’ll sort them out. I don’t have any real plans today, and sometimes they get put in roughly…”

“Really? …Thanks, Allen. I’m worried about mom and dad, too…”

Chelsy smiled at me, her cheeks getting a little redder. For some reason, Joshua was fidgeting behind her. Everyone said some parting words to Teacher, got their bags, and left the room. Stella, who left last, suddenly stopped on her way out and turned to me.

“Allen. …You’ve really come to resemble Teacher.”

“…You think so? What’s this all of a sudden?”

“…No. I won’t say anything. You decided it, after all.”

Stella’s clean black hair swayed as she left the room. Her all-knowing remarks would always give me chills.

Once everyone was gone, I sat on a nearby stool.

“…Spring has come again. I like it. It’s nice and warm.”

I naturally wasn’t expecting a reply, but I spoke to Teacher regardless.

“Letty’s the same as ever. Always eager to play. I’ve stopped seeing Rick anymore. It’s a little sad, but… I’m sure it’s for the best. Chelsy seems to have reconciled with her dad. She’s very good at cooking. And she’s slowly starting to talk to people, even people she doesn’t know. …Oh yeah, Joshua told me he found someone he likes. That surprised me. He joined a basketball club, and I feel like he’s gotten even more mischievous since. Studying’s still not his forte, like always. Stella’s always looking weary of our antics, but she seems to enjoy this life well enough. …Mr. Cliff and the others are all very nice people.”

After that, I took a breath, and steadied my wavering determination. It had been eight years. I kept it secret from the others, even consulting the research Teacher left. But surely, it seemed, an ordinary person couldn’t do anything when it came to the Worlds. As such, this was the answer I’d come to.

“…There’s no way we could forget. Mr. David, you’re the only one we could call our Teacher. If it weren’t you… There’d be no point.”

…There was a lot I still wanted him to teach me. And I hadn’t given him back what he gave me. I cast my eyes down and bit my lip.

“We’ll save you. We absolutely will. There’s honestly a very low chance of success. Everything may not go well. But I’m sure this is best.”

I slowly stood up, and spoke without turning around.

“…You’ve been watching, haven’t you?”

There was the sound of running water. My heartbeat felt faster than usual.

The emptiness and sense of loss, like trying to catch a cloud - I no longer felt it. I had regained everything. Thus, only one means remained to connect back to that World.

…I wouldn’t regret it. A normal person wouldn’t be able to do anything. So then…

I took a deep breath and looked at the person in front of me.

Taller than I was then, slightly longer blond hair. And… gold eyes.

Certainly, this person in the mirror was me. I twisted the k.n.o.b to stop the faucet, and the sound stopped with a squeak.

There there, there there, there, there… It’s okay.

I recited that charm to myself. I left the bathroom and hurried back to Teacher’s hospital room.

When I opened the door, Teacher, who had lied sleeping for eight years, now had his eyes open wide, staring at his palms, feeling his body.

Seeing Teacher moving after so long brought me all kinds of emotions. But these temporarily stopped deep in my chest, and I just smiled as I spoke.

“Mr. David.”

Teacher looked startled, and turned his pale face to me.

…Why?

“…Good morning, Teacher.”

Why did his eyes look so sad?

2

People sure are funny, huh.

Tell 'em not to do something, and they do it without hesitation. Doin’ whatever it takes to do what they think is “right.” Regardless of how much you can’t believe anything another guy says, they got no problem clinging to the fuzziest little thing. They think their selfish acts’ll make people happy.

“I’ll give you my soul, as long as you return Teacher’s soul here once the door is open.”

For somebody who said he had nothin’, you’ve got a student with a lotta respect for his Teach.

I wonder what kind of story you’ll be showin’ me now?

I’ll even lend you a hand. You better not bore me, now.

Mweeheeheeheeeee!

Afterword

I’m △ (mi) ○ (wa) □ (s.h.i.+) × (ba) - Miwas.h.i.+ba. I’m writing that out here so that no mysteries remain. In this novelization, I struggled with the publisher to clear up all of the game’s mysteries, but whether I actually cleared them all up? That is the mystery, even for me.

When I was in middle school, I saw Let’s Plays of free games on a certain video site and thought, I want to make one of these too!, which was the birth of the original Alice mare. But I was unfamiliar with the software at the time and gave up.

A few years later, however, I wanted to tackle game creation again, so I went fis.h.i.+ng through my old files, adding things until it was completed. It was played by far more people than I expected, and I’m seriously surprised it got to the point of this novelization.

My dream for the future is to be an artist!, I’ve boasted since childhood, but I couldn’t have had the faintest inkling that I’d be writing a novel someday. To be honest, it isn’t my first time producing a novel, but that’s a past I’d rather not discuss, so let’s just put that aside. Instead, I think I’ll discuss an influence in the creation of the original game.

I think it was when I was ten. My beloved great-grandmother pa.s.sed away, and for the first time I felt the great loneliness and fear that comes with someone close to you dying. That night, I sobbed and folded countless paper cranes, when my grandfather came along and kindly asked, “Why are you folding cranes?”

I replied, “I’m folding lots of them so they can carry great-grandma back home!” Grandpa stroked my face and told me, “You don’t fold cranes to carry great-grandma home, you fold them to carry her up to heaven.”

After my grandfather said those words to me, as well as “See 'em off with a smile, or they won’t go to heaven,” I became able to see the people dear to me off with a smile. My grandfather has also pa.s.sed away now, and my grandma sometimes speaks of him with sad looks.

How old they’d be if they were still alive, how you wish you’d been more like this to them… In j.a.panese, we have the proverb “counting the years of dead children” to mean “crying over spilt milk.” Because indeed, we can’t interfere with the dead or the past.

Regret for the dead just weighs both parties down, someone told me years later: the living can’t move forward, and the dead can’t go to the afterlife. That’s been burned into my brain ever since. My grandmother counts grandfather’s age on her fingers ever year, and it worries me every time.

This is a story of people trapped by regret too, so to speak. But I’m certain I’ll never make another story so dark. Most importantly, I can’t even get myself excited. I like a happy ending.

Lastly, to the publisher, the designer, the people who played the game, and the people whose first experience with it is this book, you have my thanks. I’m indebted to so many of you for this wonderful opportunity. Thank you very much!

- △○□× (Miwas.h.i.+ba)

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