Vol 1 Chapter 2 (1/2)

Chapter 2: Atsus.h.i.+ Kogure

1

My heart explodes and comes bursting out of my mouth.

In the eyes of everyone else in this shopping district by the station, nothing special happened. However, I have made a horrifying discovery.

Within the crowd of strangers that walk the streets, I have found her whom I will never forget.

Burst by an unbearable shock, my pieces stick to all my surroundings. The hundreds of shreds that I have spit out scowl at her from all sides. Noticing my gazes, she finds my main body and looks at it.

And—smiles.

Her smile leaves me so thunderstruck that I can't even break down—I just freeze. It's like her smile made away with the very concept of time, let alone my feelings that completely vanished at the sight of her.

The girl before my eyes stands aloof from the world. At the very least, I know that she has no proper moral values.

I am being devoured by her existence.

Only after she goes away am I able to breathe again. I confirm that my emotional perception is still intact, and finally feel alive again.

Right. I—

I detest that girl.

She has stolen everything from me.

No matter how special and transcendental she is, that doesn't make her sins any lighter.

I won't forgive her. I will absolutely not forgive her. I won't ever forgive her, the cold-blooded killer of my family.

I won't forgive Reina Kamisu!

2

”You met Reina Kamisu?” my doctor asks in wonderment when I tell him about my encounter with that monster.

”Yes. I ran across her. That killer.”

”Reina Kamisu...”

I may have called him doctor, but Doctor Mihara doesn't fit the common image of one. He is a sociable, young psychiatrist and actually still in his twenties.

”Are you sure it was not a dream?”

”It was real! She walked past me before my very eyes! She even noticed me and laughed at me!”

”Hm...” Doctor Mihara folds his arms as he notices that I'm dead serious.

My family was murdered by Reina Kamisu.

To this day it is unknown why she broke into our house and stabbed everyone except me; she didn't steal anything, nor was there a grudge I know of. She hadn't made any threats in advance, either, nor did she seem to enjoy it. In contrary, she seemed to be very intelligent and to have no relation with drugs and the like. In fact, I failed to find a stain in her personality.

But it is for a fact that she killed my family.

Their lives vanished so easily.

I used to think that human lives are special—nothing like the fishes we once dissected at school. The idea of human life and its supposed value used to be huge and boundless in my young mind. In fact, on the a.s.sumption that only humans have minds, I still think that our lives are of great value.

However—it's possible to take someone's life with the same knife that you slice open a fish with.

Confronted with that absurd fact as a mere 10-year old boy, I was shattered.

I do have a wound in my chest—due to Reina Kamisu, of course—that is quite grotesque. One of the kind that makes people grimace.

However, the problem with that wound isn't that it scares everyone. The problem is that it is still a wound and not a scar. It's still a gaping wound, and it's going to stay that way. But instead of blood, it's my very own self that is being bled out. ”Something” that is needed to live. I'm dwindling. Ever-dwindling.

I'm still breaking bit by bit.

”Atsus.h.i.+-kun,” my doctor addresses me with a serious look.

”Yes?”

”We're out of time for today, but can I ask you to tell me more about this in our next meeting?”

”Yes, of course.”

I was planning to do so anyway.

Besides, the only way to fix me is to go against Reina Kamisu; to learn the truth about her; to—understand her.

Can I win against that monster? The odds are against me, I'm afraid. I'm going to lose. I'm going to keep dwindling.

Just like a black hole, there are times when uncalled-for feelings absorb the obvious and make you blind. Therefore, if I want to oppose her, I must seal my emotions—which consist mostly of hatred—away. Thinking back at the outburst of emotions that I experienced when I ran across her the other day, I can imagine how hard that is.

However, no matter how hard the fight against that monster turns out to be, there is no risk for me. I've sunken to the lowest point already. While it is hard to fight my way up, I can't fall any lower.

Therefore, I won't waver to fight.

”I won't lose!”

”Against whom...?” Doctor Mihara asks, still serious.

”Against me, of course, and against Reina Kamisu.”

He maintains a pensive look and seems to be groping for words. In the end, he just mutters, ”I see...”

The following day, I headed to school like always despite my decision to fight against Reina Kamisu. Truth be told, I would rather look around for her than attend my cla.s.ses, but added to the fact that I have no clues except for spotting her in town, I don't want to bother my aunt.

Unlike my uncle, she is treating me really well. I suppose the fact that they don't have any own children adds to this, but she is looking after me like I were her real son... maybe even more so because I'm not her real son. There's no discontent. There's no discontent... but there is pressure. I feel that I absolutely mustn't and can't sadden my aunt, since she is obliged to look after me as well.

I arrive at school and notice that our cla.s.sroom is remarkably noisy.

Puzzled, I catch Yuuji Kato, who happened to stand nearby and is on comparatively good terms with me. I ask, ”What's the matter?”

”Suicide's the matter, dude! Suicide!”

”What? But that was, like, last week, no? Did we learn something new about Saito's suicide?” I ask as I toss my bag onto my desk.

Since she was a person who we would see every day at school, Saito's death came quite as a shock for us. While she didn't have any friends—she was even suspected to have stolen from a cla.s.smate—there were still students who mourned for her. Surprisingly though, it wasn't until she died that a few guys came our of their sh.e.l.ls and confessed with teary eyes that they had actually been fond of her because she had a ”modest” personality unlike most girls nowadays. Saito must have quite mixed feelings up there in heaven, since that personality of hers is what drove her to suicide.

”Are you still making a fuss about that story? Why don't you leave her alone already? I'm sure that she... wouldn't like being the center of attention,” I mention to him.

”You're completely off the mark, man.”

”What do you mean?”

”This is not about Saito, you know?”

”Then who committed suicide?”

Yuuji looks at a certain desk and says, ”Kimura.”

Before cla.s.ses started, all students of our school were summoned to the gym for an emergency speech, where the school director bored us with a lengthy speech on ”the value of life.”

While listening with half an ear to what he has to say, I start making my own thoughts about the incident.

It seems like Saito, Mizuhara, and the other people concerned didn't know, but anyone who was either somewhat familiar with Kimura or has enough brains, like me, was aware that Kimura was really the culprit of the stolen wallet incident.

It was a well-known fact among us guys that Kimura had a crush on Mizuhara, and that he was turned down when he confessed to her. She told him that she had no plans of dating anyone in the near future. A few days later, however, she and As.h.i.+zawa became a couple.

Needless to say, she only used that phrase to turn Kimura down because she wanted to avoid being too direct, and he must have been aware of that. Nonetheless, Kimura's feelings were hurt. Thoroughly. He must have thought that he was inferior to As.h.i.+zawa—a complete drop-out—in Mizuhara's eyes. Starting from then, everything he said and everything he did was underlined with a subtle tone of self-deprecation.

I can see why he would want to damage the present As.h.i.+zawa gave to Mizuhara. In fact, I think a little payback like that is very much tolerable. However, he knew that he would be the obvious culprit if he executed that resentful plan of his.

Therefore, he was in need of a suspect other than himself. And he found one in Saito, who just happened to be made a fool of by Mizuhara.

At a glance, Kimura did his job well; at the very least, he managed to trick his main targets—Mizuhara and her group—into believing his lie.

However, in effect he failed horribly.

He didn't take into consideration how much his actions would hurt Saito's feelings because he was too focused on how to force the blame onto her. But his greatest mistake was not to take into consideration how much his own feelings would be hurt by hurting Saito's.

His revenge inflicted a lethal wound on Saito. Maybe that's not entirely accurate. Maybe he only touched a sore point of Saito's that was already lethal anyway. Nevertheless, Kimura considered himself responsible for her death.

Kimura hurt Saito, and that fact hurt himself. Both of those wounds were lethal, and both of those wounds ended in death. Like... like my own wound.

At last, the school director ends his speech after more than a full hour. I do understand his concern, but that doesn't make it any more worthwhile.

Seriously... he doesn't get that a sermon is not going to achieve anything. We all know perfectly well that one must not commit suicide. And yet there are times when the world we live in becomes so tough on us that we play with the thought. Therefore, it's useless to appeal to ethics; he ought to go with a more practical and concrete approach. If I were to stop suicide, I would do it like this: ”Dying means falling into an eternal state of nothingness, a perfect void that can't be conceived by anything that is alive. Just think about it: your brain goes away. You do not have any thought anymore. Surely, you've heard of the phrase 'I think, thus I am,' no? Give it some careful thought. Nothing exists. Do you get this? Nothing exists. How many seconds could you endure being in a world without sound, without light, and without any kind of sensation? A world where you don't even get hungry. Where you have no desires at all. Can you follow me? But death is a perfect void, so it exceeds even such a sensation-less world. There is no future. Heaven is just a construct people who fear death made up. You should know why there will always be people who believe in a world after death despite the advent of science; it's because they are scared. Scared of what waits beyond death. So, don't think ending your own life will save you! It simply ends. It E-N-D-S. Suicide is the act of killing yourself, and dying without comprehending the meaning of death is but escaping from reality. Although the result is the same in both cases. All right, come on. Try to kill yourself if you can; try to kill yourself now that you've learned the truth.”

At the very least, I couldn't kill myself.

After all, the only reason why I'm here now is because I'm more afraid of death than most.

Ah, right, there was a nice little twist to this story:

”Actually, I heard Kimura left behind a suicide note,” Yuuji tells me.

”A suicide note? Did he apologize to Saito or something?”

”Exactly.”

”Well, that should cheer her up a little, I guess?”

”No, I think it'll have quite the opposite effect.”

”Hm...? Well, sure, I wouldn't want anyone to commit suicide because of me either.”

”That's not the problem,” he objects.

”What do you mean?”

”Kimura got her name wrong.”

Oh.

After school ended (cla.s.ses did take place, but everyone was somewhat absent in mind) I headed to the shopping district where I had come across Reina Kamisu.

There's no guarantee that I will find her again just because I saw her once, but that's the only clue I have. I originally thought I would be able to get my hands on some data since I'm the victim of the incident, but it's not that simple. Especially for juvenile crimes.

Should Reina Kamisu walk past me, I won't miss her. That's not only because I've carved her appearance into my memory over and over: She is special in anyone's eyes. She is absurdly beautiful.

”...”

However, an event-less hour pa.s.sed. Having stood all the while because there was no place to sit, my legs got a bit tired. I decided to tolerate moving away from this place a bit and went to the next McDonalds, grabbed myself two burgers (everything else is too expensive for the purse of a middle school student) and sat down by the window.

While munching at my burger, I start thinking about Reina Kamisu.

Reina Kamisu. Back when the incident happened, she was 16 years old (meaning that she was only one year older than I am now), so her present age should be 21. Did she get a job? Maybe she's enrolled in a university. She probably couldn't graduate from high school because of everything she did, but she should be smart enough to make it through the entrance exams of an university. Even though she killed my entire family, she was hardly punished at all because her completely incomprehensible motive got her diagnosed ”mentally unstable”. I bet now she's wors.h.i.+ped like an idol at her workplace or at university. The murderous idol. Haha, what a catchphrase!

”Tch...!”

The wound in my chest starts to pain. According to Dr. Mihara, this pain is just a product of my mind since the wound has already healed.

Dammit! You think this is only mental? An illusion? Don't mess with me, Doc! This pain isn't fake; no way it is!

The wound is bleeding. I may be the only one who can see the blood, but it's definitely blood—and I'm the liquid (or something similar to a liquid).

Ah, d.a.m.n, I know! I'm not making sense. I'm just digging a hole for myself.

But as a matter of fact—the wound hasn't healed.

And it still hurts.

3

The perceptive faculties of a human have a certain capacity; our brains are like computers and can only process up to a certain amount of data. When there is an overflow of information, they stop working correctly and start churning out error messages.

The sight before my eyes deprives me of any emotional impulse.

There is a corpse; my mom's corpse. There is a corpse; my dad's corpse. There is a corpse; my sister's corpse. The floor is covered by a pool of blood. Whoa, how am I supposed to walk on a floor that's so drenched? No, that's not the problem here, is it? Whoa-whoa, they're dead, no? You gotta be kidding me. This isn't some TV drama. Such brutal deaths do not happen around me. That being said, this looks pretty real. Haha, hey, this is getting out of hand. I can't believe it. And what's with that girl there? Who the f.u.c.k is that incredibly pretty girl? What's with that knife—that blood-drenched knife—she's carrying? Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa! It was YOU? Despite that pretty face of yours? Hold on a sec! Don't mess with me! Who allowed you to kill my family? Who are you, anyway? Who are you?! Who the f.u.c.k are you?!

”As I thought...”

What's as you thought?! You're strange! You're nuts!

”People die when you stab them.”

Of course they do. Every child knows that. Everyone knows that, although no one actually verifies it.

Right. My family died.

Died?

Yeah, they died...right?

They died. Yeah, they died. D-I-E-D.

”A...ah...” I finally start to moan.

They're lying on the floor. My mom, my dad, my sister, they're all lying on the floor, inanimate. I was watching TV until a few moments ago. I went upstairs because they got angry with me because I'd kicked my sister. Has that become a scene of the past? Has that girl stolen it from me? Is that even possible? Can she even do that?

”Do you want to die, too?”

She can. That girl can do it.

”Uh...UWAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!”

Help me help me help me! HELP ME, mom! Ah, she's dead! Anyone! Anyone help me!

I fall on my rear and crawl backward, literally wetting my pants. Of course I can't escape like this, but I can't stand up either.

She draws closer.

”S-Stop it...”

However, my words fall on deaf ears. Aiming the knife at me, she draws closer.

And then she wields it.

”Stop it! STOOOOOOOP!”

And then I wake up like always.

I let out a sigh as I sip my miso soup.

”My, Atsuhi, why are you sighing when the day has only started?” my aunt reproaches me lightly with a smile and puts a plate with a fried egg before me.

”I had that dream again...” I answer as I put some soy sauce on the egg.

”I see. They've become frequent lately.”

”Yeah.”

”Oh dear...why does that girl have a grudge against you?”

A grudge. Had her motive been so simple and reasonable, I wouldn't be as broken as I am now.

”Maybe you're a little antsy because your admission exams are just around the corner?” she says in an unusual worried tone. She's worried; in other words, I'm worrying her.

This is bad. I mustn't worry her even more when she's already worried about my being under mental treatment.

”Ahaha, but I haven't even started studying?” I laugh as I hold my chest.

”You haven't? I think that's pretty problematic, too!”

When my aunt said so, I could read the words ”thank G.o.d my fears were groundless” from her face.

Groundless fears. Right, her fears should have been groundless.

However, it is a fact that the dream has unsettled me more than it would usually do.

I started having that nightmare after that incident happened. During the first month, I was tormented by it every night, and every time I was, I was so unsettled that I could not eat anything.

But you get used to any nightmare with time: lately, I would only think of it as a ”bad dream.”

However, today it's different. Not only did she wound me in my dream, she also wounded me in reality again.

I hold my chest.

My nightmare has leaked into reality and is attacking me from there. That's all because I've run across Reina Kamisu the other day. That nightmare isn't just a nightmare; it's my past that keeps tormenting me.

By coming across Reina Kamisu, my nightmare has acquired reality. She is using it as a portal to attack me.

Again and again, she will attack me.

Now, how long will my heart be able to endure it?

I enter the cla.s.sroom, just to get surprised almost as much as yesterday.

As.h.i.+zawa had his head shaved, abandoning his long, brown hair.

I doubt that one of the teachers in charge of common decency forced him to do that; they wouldn't go that far. It must have been his own will.

As.h.i.+zawa has been in low spirits lately, which is, needless to say, because he is blaming himself for Saito's death. Back when the wallet he gave to Mizuhara was damaged, he got so angry with Saito that he pushed her into a corner and intimidated her.

I was there when it happened and observed them, planning to step in if he were to get rough...no, I don't know if I really intended to intervene. Perhaps, I only pretended to be worried about her. Anyway, I observed them without doing anything.

Only after looking at As.h.i.+zawa's shaved head, my conscience starts to p.r.i.c.kle me.

I don't know how much that incident took part in Saito's death, but I'm sure that it did have an effect. It's another aspect that drove her into suicide.

But what if there'd been someone who tried to help Saito when she was surrounded by As.h.i.+zawa and his pals? What if she'd had a comrade who didn't care about the pressure As.h.i.+zawa applied? Wouldn't the outcome have been different? Aren't we, who hesitated to stand up for Saito, the real sinners?

That ”comrade” could have been me.

As.h.i.+zawa has inflicted an evident punishment upon himself like a real delinquent. As thoughtless and pointless as that punishment may be, he did produce proof of his remorse.

And what about us? We're denying any responsibility and try to discount the matter with some pity. It's not As.h.i.+zawa or Kimura or Mizuhara who cornered Saito, but us who tried to stay away from her to the bitter end.

Suddenly, a question crosses my mind.

Come to think of it—

Didn't Saito call someone's name for help?

Even the lunch break was occupied with the subject of Saito and Kimura because As.h.i.+zawa's shaved head was so eye-catching. Because of the great sympathy for Saito that fills the air (they all seem to feel guilty), Takatsuki and her colleagues are in an awkward position, being the ones who blamed Saito.

I have eaten up my boxed lunch and am observing my cla.s.s, my elbow rested on my desk.

As.h.i.+zawa looks like a monk, and Takatsuki's group are looking like cats in an unfamiliar house. Wondering how Mizuhara herself is doing, I look at her.

Her fairly pretty face looks even more exhausted than before. She must be aware of the central part she has played in both Saito's and Kimura's suicide.

As I make this observation, she turns to me and our eyes meet.

I quickly avert my gaze to feign ignorance, but her gaze remains fixed on me. ”Never mind me!” I shout in my mind as I confirm that I'm still being watched.

However, my silent shout remained unheard; she stands up and walks toward my seat.

”Kogure-kun.”

Now she called my name. Looks like it wasn't a coincidence or because she noticed my gaze that she looked at me.

”So...What's the matter, Mizuhara?” I ask as I raise my head, visibly annoyed.

”You're smart, aren't you? I mean, you're always the number one in this cla.s.s and you are among the best in our school year, right?”

”You're talking about my grades, but there's a difference between being smart and having good grades.”

Mizuhara is dumbstruck for a moment, but eventually picks up again, ”...But you're the only one I can think of to talk about this. Can you spare me a moment, please?”

”I think there are enough other people who could give you better advice.”

”Mmm...I'm not exactly looking for advice. Let's not talk about it here—come this way.”

Mizuhara pulls me by my sleeve. Looks like she insists on talking with me.

”Whoa, hold your horses, now. As.h.i.+zawa's going to get angry when he sees us together.”

”He won't.”

”Oh, really? He must be quite forgiving then.”

”No, we've...split up.”

Surprised, I freeze for an instant.

”Ah...I see,” I say in a deliberately disinterested voice, but my expression just now has given me away.

But now that I think about it, there's nothing to be so surprised about. While the love experienced in middle school might be blind and grand, it's also transitory. Their bonds weren't strong enough to withstand the obstacles brought upon them—that's all.

And those bonds ruined Kimura.

Oh well.

Mizuhara led me to the stairway landing before the door to the roof. These stairs are hardly used, so there probably won't be any uninvited visitors. She must have used this place to secretly meet up with As.h.i.+zawa.

”We came here from time to time. Tos.h.i.+ki and I.”

There you have it.

”You...you know about the fake love letter I teased Saito-san with, right?” she asks.

”Yeah.”

”Did you ever wonder why I did that?”

”Nope, not at all? I a.s.sumed that you simply couldn't stand Saito, and I don't think there's a deeper reason to find there.”

”Perhaps...that's true...but I, I also wanted to help—”

”I don't care. Spare me that story.”

That's just an excuse she made up.

”No, hear me out! To tell the truth...we once saw her when we met up here.”

”Really...? What kind of business did Saito have here?”

”That's the problem...she was mumbling things to herself.”

”To herself?”

”Yes, to herself, but as if talking with someone. I tried following her glance a few times, but there was no one there.”

That's not that noteworthy; Saito had no one to talk with, so it makes sense that she would vent her desire to talk when she was alone.

”And you found that to be creepy, so you teased her?” I conclude.

”I did think it was creepy, that's true...”

I see. I can understand that Mizuhara would want to intervene after coming across such a scene.

”So? That's not why you brought me here, is it?”

”No...” She hesitates for a moment. ”Kogure-kun...do you believe in ghosts?”

The conversation takes a sudden turn.

”Ghosts? No idea. Well, I do think they might exist, since so many people claim that they do...”

”How about evil spirits?”

”Bulls.h.i.+t.”

Wait, wait, why does Mizuhara ask things like that? What's the meaning behind those absurd questions?

—Whoa-whoa, is she implying that Saito was talking with a ghost? Time to come down to earth, no?

I barely manage to hold my thoughts in.

...No, don't jump to conclusions. Mizuhara said she was put off by the sight of Saito talking to herself. She wouldn't have felt disgust if that ghost-story was her first impression, but something like fear or maybe even envy, right?

Does that mean that there is something that made her come to the conclusion that Saito was talking with a ghost?

”You're implying that Saito was talking to a ghost?”

Mizuhara nods.

”How did you arrive at that thought?”

Mizuhara lapses into silence. It seems like she fears that by putting her thoughts into words, she will make them definite.

However, she opens her mouth at last.

”Because...,” she mutters something, ”...died...”

”Because Saito died? How does that explain anything?”

”No!” Mizuhara objects.

”What? She talked with a ghost and that's why she died? That makes no—”

”That's not it! Not because Saito-san died!”

”But who—”

I think. No, there's no need to think. There's only one other person that comes into question.

”Not Saito-san, but because Kimura-kun died.”

I have to admit that I'm a little confused.

This doesn't make sense. Not only does she suggest the existence of something unscientific like ghosts, she is also talking back and forth incoherently.

I carefully sort everything in my head, thinking every point through logically, and arrive at the conclusion surprisingly fast.

”So...you saw him, right?”

She nods slowly.

”You saw Saito talking with that something, which by itself would have simply made her an oddball. But you also saw Kimura do the same thing.”

Mizuhara nods.

I pause and take a look around. Should ghosts really exist, then I wouldn’t be surprised to find one here. That thought sends a cold s.h.i.+ver down my spine, but of course that’s just my imagination playing tricks on me.

However, as a matter of fact, someone died on the other side of this door.

”Do you...do you think such a coincidence is possible?” Mizuhara asks reluctantly.

”What do you refer to when you say 'coincidence'...?”

”Like I said... Saito-san and Kimura-kun, they both talked to a ghost, they both saw a ghost, and they both committed suicide. Do you think that such a coincidence is possible?”

Coincidence.

She's right; this would be a strange coincidence. However, not only did they have a proper reason for suicide, there's also no doubt that they ended their lives of their own free will.

To begin with, there is causal relation between their deaths: Kimura wouldn't have died if not for Saito's death. Their deaths aren't caused by a coincidence.

Hold on...

There is no place for a coincidence there. In other words, it's the absence of a coincidence that makes that whatever suspicious.

”You have doubts, too, don’t you, Kogure-kun?” Mizuhara points out. I quickly hide my expression. ”Know what I think?” she asks, ”I think that neither of them actually committed suicide.”

Her face is as pale as clay. At last, I realize that it's not feelings of guilt that have exhausted her so much.

Mizuhara is scared.

The fear of whatever drove the other two into death is wearing her down.

”They were killed,” she says with fearful conviction, ”A ghost cursed them to death.”

Like yesterday, I began looking out for Reina Kamisu while drinking a discounted milkshake at a McDonalds.

However, while my eyes were directed at the window, nearly all of my internal wires were used up for thought.

I had since been recalling that discussion with Mizuhara several times, trying to draw my own conclusions.

I have no means of knowing what that whatever she was calling a ”ghost” is, but granted that that ”phenomenon” is capable of communication, it can get into contact with others and thus affect their lives to a certain degree.

That effect killed those two?

Cursed to death.

Well, perhaps you can call that a ”curse” of sorts.

But is it so easy to lead someone to death? No way. No matter how light you make of life and death, everyone knows that death is final and unrecoverable. People's words do not kill you; it's your own voice within that leads you there. Or an abrupt impulse. At any rate, people don't die that easily.

Or does it, whatever it is, have the power to manipulate these mechanisms with ease?

On the other hand...they both had a valid reason for suicide. While words are useless against your average Joe, it might well be possible to give someone with suicidal tendencies the final push.

However, I shake my head.

I'm losing touch with reality; I should think it through more rationally.

Rational thinking. R-a-t-i-o-n-a-l. Got that down? ...Yeah.

Right... first of all, I should consider the possibility that everything Mizuhara told me was just a product of her imagination. In my personal view, she is an opinionated girl.

She knows that she shares the guilt for Saito and Kimura's death. Perhaps, she was unable to take the blame and therefore tried to escape by reading a reason into Kimura's talking with air, which in turn she made up either from scratch or by misinterpreting a normal conversation to her own convenience.

In other words, that being does not exist to begin with.

How's that? Doesn't that make much more sense?

...Tch. What a pathetic attempt to push reason into this affair.

Unconvinced by my own reasoning, I try to focus on the other side of the window and end up scaring a few pedestrians with a piercing glare.

”What are you looking at so hard?” someone asks from behind me.

I am about to kindly explain that I am looking for someone—

—But my words get stuck in my throat and are pushed back down until they evaporate entirely.

My skin crawls.

Something drips down from my finger tips as my mouth turns into a desert and my eyeb.a.l.l.s are exposed to the air.

”—Ah.”

I know...

I know that voice.

Even though I have only heard it a few times, it has burnt itself deep into my brain and won't leave me ever since.

”What's wrong? Won't you tell me what you're looking at?”

It pains.

The wound in my chest pains.

Fully opened again, it overflows with a liquid resembling blood —as if to react to its creator.

I mustn't, lose.

I hold my chest and turn around to the visitor with an iron will.

Something pierces through my eyes as I recognize her face, making me fight against the urge to close my eyes, to avert my eyes.

However, I have been waiting for this very moment.

I must stand my ground now.

”I was looking for you, Reina Kamisu, for you!”

I scowl at Reina Kamisu. The more I sharpen my gaze, the weaker the pain in my chest gets.

”Oh really?” she smiles at me with a smile so beautiful that it looks fake. ”And what are you going to do now? Take revenge?”

Revenge, says Reina Kamisu with indifference.

”I do want to do that, yeah,” I reply as calmly as I can, while suppressing the boiling rage.

”So there's another goal if you phrase it like that?”

”Yes.”

”I'm listening?”

”Maybe you think that incident is just water under the bridge. But not for me. I'm still suffering the consequences everyday. You're still messing with my life!”

”Well, I suppose n.o.body who fell victim to such an incident could come to terms with it so easily,” Reina Kamisu says in an indifferent voice, giving me the urge to charge at her and strangle her to death. However, I must keep from doing so; without her I will never get the answer I seek.

”And? What do you want from me?”