Vol 3 Chapter 6 (1/2)

Part VI: Records in Oblivion

Beyond the briar’s thorns there once was a deep forest, wrapped in fog.

From it wafted the smell of green and the tiny whispers of insects.

And deep into it, I pa.s.sed.

And further still did I walk.

Until I chanced upon a knoll untouched by our sun, where I found myself in

the company of children.

And finally I did come to my senses, and realizing the lateness of the hour,

resolved to press home.

“But you needn’t go home. For here, your eternity awaits.”

The forest children began to sing.

And I wondered what eternity was.

“It is when you linger.”

“It is when you are unchanging.”

The chorus of cradles recited in melancholy unison.

Starlight shone quietly on the gra.s.s of the mound.

The fog flowed together like purest milk behind me.

And over my shoulder, the path home had been lost.

I know little of this eternity.

I try to hurry home.

To a home far from this place.

A home far from the children and the forest.

And wrapped in the smell of green and the tiny whispers of insects,

Inside the deep forest, wrapped in fog beyond the briar’s thorns,

They denied me home for an eternity.

4 • KINOKO NASU

Records in Oblivion - I

December this year was less cold than I had antic.i.p.ated, but was still

enough to bring a white cloud of breath with every whisper. Nevertheless,

yesterday was its final day, and with it, the final day of the year. Today is

a new year, my sixteenth one. Surely, for many people around the world

today, they are greeting each other in a warm “Happy New Year,” treasuring

the one chance in a year they can share the warmth and sense of new

opportunity with other people.

Not for me, though. In fact, New Year to me has become the time of the

year where I want to chide myself for my stupidity, a time when the pillows

in my room are in danger of my desire to hurl them against the wall and

stomp on them to vent; a time where I just want to will the rest of the day

away. Sadly, human hearts and memory are not such convenient things.

And so it is with a certain glumness of spirit that I hurry and make my

preparations to go to Miss Tōko’s office.

Though I belong to a thoroughly pedestrian household, my family still

Insists that I dress in a kimono for the first shrine visit of the New Year.

Indeed, they’ve already lain it out for me in my bed. Still, I’ve never been

one for the traditional clothing, so I ignore it and head out of my room to

go downstairs.

“Oh, Azaka dear, are you going out?” my mother asks as I climb down

the stairs

“Yes. Just going to meet someone who I owe a favor to. I’ll be home

before dark,” I say with my best smile as I depart from the Kokutō residence—my

household.

The sky of the early afternoon day is filled with clouds, and not too

friendly ones, it seems. Still, I think for a while that it reflects my mood

perfectly, and just that little bit of acknowledgement (by the world no less!)

eases my steps just a bit.

I didn’t always hate this particular time of the year. There was a time

when, just like any other person, I actually looked forward to it. But it was

in 1996, exactly three years ago from this day, when that changed; my thirteenth

New Year when I went back to my real home for the holidays.

The story truly starts with me, Azaka Kokutō, and the weak const.i.tution

that my body was cursed with. I’ve never had any high grades in PE, and

everyone could tell the Tōkyō air was bad for my continued health. And so

/ RECORDS IN OBLIVION - I • 5

with that reason, the family packed me away to live with my uncle in the

countryside when I was only ten years old. Since then, I only came home

during summer and winter breaks, but even then I couldn’t stand to go

back. My uncle treated me like his own adopted daughter, and raised me

away from my family. I preferred to keep it that way—even past the point

where my const.i.tution eventually improved to become normal and render

the entire arrangement moot—for my own reasons.

For you see, I have a brother, Mikiya Kokutō. And I love him.

To clarify, this is not, as you might be suspecting, the familial love between

close siblings, but the romantic sort of love between a boy and a

girl. Of course, one might suspect that a ten year old elementary school

girl might be mistaken, and it would not be wrong to a.s.sume such a conclusion.

But I was no idiot, even back then, and I knew better than most

exactly what sort of affection I was entertaining. And though I can accept

my a.s.sumption of my possession of higher than average intelligence as a

comfortable lie I can tell myself, I cannot accept that my feelings for Mikiya

are anything other than real. Once I even harbored childish thoughts of

somehow spiriting him away from other people, never to let another see

him. Though my feelings have since taken on a more sensible form, my

fondness for Mikiya never wavered. I’ve known from the start that this was

a feeling never to be voiced, so as I grew older, I only waited, biding my

time for a chance.

Even my retreat to the countryside was all part of my elaborate plan to

separate myself from Mikiya, all for the sake of building in him a propensity

to see in me something else, something other than being his little sister. I

don’t care what it says in the family registry. I left that behind long ago, and

I’ll only truly come back after Mikiya’s forgotten me as a sister completely.

Until then, though, I’d spend my days like a lady of manners. After all, I

know exactly what Mikiya likes, so this was a fairly simple process. It was a

plan so perfect even I have to marvel at its genius.

But then of course, a meddler had to make her G.o.dd.a.m.ned appearance.

Pardon my words. It was three years ago, back in my junior high school

days when I first explored the notions of love. It was the winter holidays,

and I went back to the house when, of all the stupidest things to do, Mikiya

brought home a cla.s.smate of his. It was clear for anyone to see that he

and this woman named s.h.i.+ki Ryōgi were dating. And when I saw this, I had

the curious and not altogether pleasant feeling of having baked yourself

a lovely cake, only for it to be beset by the desperate and hungry the moment

you look away. The thought that my brother, who always seemed so

aloof before, would now be dating a girl, had never entered my wildest

6 • KINOKO NASU

imaginings. I mean, think about it. He’d never even so much as looked that

way at any woman before, let alone had a relations.h.i.+p with one!

I think I spent the next few days after that in a complete daze, sleepwalking

maybe, until I finally came back to the countryside. It was not long

after that when, still in distress over what to do about the girl, I got wind

of the traffic accident and coma that befell s.h.i.+ki Ryōgi. And so Mikiya was

alone once again. I must confess that when Mikiya told me the news by

letter as I sipped my tea on the terrace of my uncle’s house, that I sympathized

with the poor girl. Even though I only met her once, I remember her

laughing heartily at what Mikiya had to say, her att.i.tude full of energy. But

I would be lying if I didn’t say that I felt some measure of relief. No girl of

idle interest like s.h.i.+ki would ever catch Mikiya’s eye again. All I need do was

graduate high school with recognition, and get myself into a sufficiently

reputable university. Only a few more steps; a few more years—perhaps

eight—until the notion of my sibling relations.h.i.+p with Mikiya was severed.

But my enemy proved herself to be no common ken indeed, because

only last spring, s.h.i.+ki regained her consciousness. Mikiya was beside himself

with joy at the news as he told me over the phone, but it only served

to harden my resolve. I would say nothing to him about my feelings, but

only until I graduate from high school. I would need to be frank with myself,

more so than before. And from there, I picked up the pace. My choice

of high school was perfect: a boarding school called Reien Girl’s Academy,

where tax bracket mattered more than grades when entering. This suited

me perfectly, as did my uncle, who, being a painter and artist, was only too

eager to ingratiate himself with potential patrons by my presence in the

inst.i.tution. And so I lodged there, to become a lady in their fas.h.i.+on.

It’s been half a year since my entry there, and now I’m living another

accursed New Year, again reminding me of s.h.i.+ki’s continued existence. I’d

actually planned to go to the shrine with Mikiya today, but that got soured

easily enough when s.h.i.+ki came by earlier and left with him. Strange how

fickle such things tend to be in my life, and how she always seems to be at

the center of it all.

I make my way toward the bay area, the sight of the once great factories

serving as my guide. The old industrial area by the bay is still home to some

active steelworks, but by and large it is a place of rusted smokestacks and

crumbling brick walls, of old and abandoned warehouses, some of which

still have asbestos flocked within ceilings. In the midst of it all stands the

sh.e.l.l of an office building, remaining eternally unfinished in its construc-

/ RECORDS IN OBLIVION - I • 7

tion; no doubt the last hope to revitalize the district, only to falter and fail.

My tutor in the Art of magic, Tōko Aozaki, somehow got her hands on it

(through means I am not entirely confident are legal), and made an office

of sorts there, for her “business.”

When I reach the building, I go in and climb the staircase, each click of

my heels on the steps an echo. The first floor is a garage, and only Miss

Tōko herself knows what lurks in the second and third, and the fourth is

the office where me and my brother Mikiya often end up in; Mikiya as an

employee, and I as an apprentice. I open the door on the fourth floor office

and announce my arrival with a lazy greeting.

“Happy New Year.”

“Mmhmm. Happy New Year,” says Miss Tōko with an equally languid

expression on her face.

Somehow, the usual severity that Miss Tōko commands doesn’t seem

to diminish her good looks at all. In fact, in tandem with her white blouse

and black trousers, it makes her seem more in control, if anything. With her

gla.s.ses off, as they are now, you might even doubt for a moment if she was

actually a woman.

“Weren’t you planning to go out with brother dearest today?” she asks

with a characteristic lack of restraint from behind her work desk.

“I was, but s.h.i.+ki came along and spirited him away. Still, aren’t you glad

I’m even in today instead of gallivanting about with Mikiya?”

“That I am. I have some business to talk about with you, actually.”

That’s strange. It’s very rare for Miss Tōko to involve me in her business.

I make her a cup of coffee, and whip up some tea for myself, before finally

taking a seat for myself.

“So, what is it you wanted to speak to me about?”

She puts her hands behind her head and leans back on her chair. “Just

wondering whether you’ve confessed to Kokutō yet.”

Oh, for heaven’s sake. I can tell from her tone that she’s not at all serious

about this.

“No, I haven’t. And it’ll be that way until after high school, at the very

least. Now is there actually anything significant in my answer that made

you so anxious to ask me?”

“Nah. Just speculating on how calm your answer would still be if I asked

the same question with Kokutō present. I suppose I still wonder how totally

different you both are yet you still find an attraction for him. Maybe you’re

adopted. Ever considered that?” The tips of her lips rise into that familiar

sly bend of a smile.

“Now I really don’t know if you’re joking or not,” I reply, but holding in

8 • KINOKO NASU

the frown I was supposed to make at her. As if she somehow still read this,

Miss Tōko chuckles lightly.

“Ah, Azaka, you carry yourself with such scholarly grace, but sometimes

the purity in your answers is so refres.h.i.+ng. Forgive me and my stupid questions.

I need to get it out of my system at least once a year, shouldn’t I?”

“Well, I’d say you’re off to a roaring great start to the year then. Anyway,

what was it you really wanted to talk about?”

“Something about your school. You’re in your first year in Reien Girl’s

Academy, right? The way I hear it, something interesting happened to cla.s.s

D of the freshman year. You wouldn’t know anything about it, would you?”

Cla.s.s D? I think I have a hunch what she’s talking about. “The cla.s.s with

Kaori Tachibana in it, right? Unfortunately, I’m in cla.s.s A, so I know very

little about the goings-on in cla.s.s D.”

“Kaori Tachibana, you say? Can’t say I recognize the name. Not on the list

I have, at least.” Miss Tōko frowns, like she’s wracking her brain for something

she missed. I tilt my head slightly to the side, wondering if there’s

some miscommunication between me and her.

“Er…what’s all of this about?” I mutter.

“So you don’t know,” she sighs. “Guess I should’ve expected it, seeing

as Reien Academy tries to isolate each cla.s.s from another. Only the girls in

cla.s.s D would know more, I suppose,” she concludes. “Anyway, let me tell

you what I know about it.”

Miss Tōko begins to tell the story of a strange incident that happened

only two weeks ago. Just before winter vacation, two students of Reien

Girl’s Academy’s senior high school cla.s.s 4-D had some kind of argument,

and in the end, tried to stab each other with box cutters. For such a thing

to happen at Reien, which is, at the best of times, eerily still and silent that

it seems almost like a place hermetically sealed-off from the rest of the

world, strikes me as supremely odd. Worse, I never knew about it, a fact

which I can probably blame on the school’s practice of separating each

cla.s.s from each other, and their tendency to cover up anything that might

paint a bad picture of the inst.i.tution.

“That’s horrible,” I say, after Miss Tōko is done with the story. “Are their

injuries serious?”

“Nothing too serious. I’m actually more interested in the fact that they

attacked each other at all.”

“Yes, I see what you mean. Reien is generally not the place you’d find

the type of people who’d try a knife fight in the halls. Whatever its cause,

it must have been something serious, or something far back in their past.

Or both.”

/ RECORDS IN OBLIVION - I • 9

“Right. The subject of their quarrel comes later. There’s an even stranger

tidbit here. No doubt you’re wondering why you didn’t know about this

earlier. Reien’s policy on these things can be blamed up to a point, but it

largely isn’t their fault this time. It’s just that it wasn’t immediately reported.

It was only when the school’s Mother Superior looked through the infirmary’s

records did she find the names of the two girls, and the cause of

their wounds. She suspected cla.s.s D’s homeroom instructor of deliberately

hiding the incident.”

That would be Hideo Hayama, once Reien’s only male instructor, and

one of the only two in its history. But he’d already left, having taken responsibility

for the breakout of a fire last November. He was promptly sacked

and replaced, not by a nun as per usual, but by…

“Mr. Kurogiri? No way. It can’t be him,” I suddenly find myself saying.

Miss Tōko offers a nod.

“The Mother Superior said as much. Apparently, this Satsuki Kurogiri

fellow took to the job well, and became trusted by everyone almost immediately.

When the Mother Superior interviewed him about the incident,

he supposedly couldn’t recall anything about the incident happening

under his watch. She had to go and recite the particulars of the incident

to even make the guy remember. She couldn’t pry a thing out of Satsuki,

and he genuinely seemed to have forgotten about the entire thing. Never

struck the Mother Superior as a man to tell stories. Since he’d proven his

trustworthiness before to both the faculty and the students, the Mother

Superior had to let him go.”

But how can a man forget something so important in only two weeks?

It just doesn’t seem possible. At the same time, I myself can’t see a reason

why Mr. Kurogiri would have any reason to break the school’s trust in him.

“As for the reason the students took a stab at each other in the first

place,” Miss Tōko continues, “all the other students heard about it, since

the two girls started arguing in the cla.s.sroom just after cla.s.s when people

were filing out in the halls. Apparently they each somehow knew of some

old secrets they were keeping from each other. And here’s the kicker. When

they were interviewed, they were both secrets that both of them had already

forgotten.”

“What? That sounds—”

“Ridiculous, I know. These girls were childhood friends. The Mother

Superior described them as always being together. Somehow, this secret

got out and ruined all that. I think they both said when they were questioned

that it was close to a month ago when they got a letter in the mail,

and at first they couldn’t figure out anything about what the letter was

10 • KINOKO NASU

referring to. Then, of course, they later understood what it was about. It

told of old secrets taht they both didn’t want the other to know. They confronted

each other, and found out that both had been sent a letter of the

same nature before they busted out the box cutters and started attacking

each other.”

I don’t know what to say. Forgotten memories and secrets being mentioned

in a letter sent by someone who they didn’t know, somewhere in

the country?

“You’re thinking this is a new case, aren’t you, Miss Tōko?”

“Maybe. The letters didn’t have anything else written on them. No

threats, no demands. Not even a stalker could watch both girls 24/7 enough

to even figure out the past that even they forgot about. If there’s a mage’s

hand in all of this, I wouldn’t be surprised. I only wonder what the ultimate

objective is.”

The ominous tone of the story starts to sink in. Discounting the damaging

contents of the letter, it might be interesting, even funny, for you to

receive letters about your life at first and not know where they’re coming

from. But give it a month and see if you still feel the same way. Letters

about you containing facets of your life that even you didn’t know about,

written by somebody you don’t know, some unknown figure who watches

you day in and day out. The paranoia that gripped the two girls must have

eaten away at them. It’s little wonder they were driven to such desperate

suspicion.

“Have they found out who sent the letters?” I ask.

“Yep. Fairies, they say,” Miss Tōko states succinctly.

“Pardon me. Could you repeat that?” I don’t know if my astonishment at

what she just said registered in my voice or not.

“Fairies, like I said. What, you don’t know about them? Even when so

many students in Reien say they see them? I suppose you really aren’t gifted

with Arcane Eyes, but it’s sort of a famous rumor among the students.

Fairies, they say, will play beside your pillow at night, and when you wake

up, you’d find some of the memories of the past few days will have gone

as cleanly as though they never happened. If it’s true, and not just some

crazy rumor, the fairies are stealing the memories for some purpose. My

gut tells me there’s a connection to this and the incident in cla.s.s D,” she

explains patiently.

Though I still study the Art under her guidance, and I’ve seen wonders of

thaumaturgy performed that are a true sight to behold, I still find the fairy

story hard to believe.

“Do you think it’s true, then, Miss Tōko? This fanciful story about fair-

/ RECORDS IN OBLIVION - I • 11

ies?”

“I can’t say anything about something I haven’t seen yet, but if there’s

any place for fairies to be, it’s got to be Reien. Think about it. It’s perfect for

them: Isolated in the sticks, where you can’t even hear the faintest whine

of a car engine, maintained by some of the sternest rules and quiet nuns,

that don’t permit the latest in youth culture to seep into the inst.i.tution

they’ve built. The forest that takes up the larger portion of the grounds

is deep and large enough to get yourself lost for half a day if you’re not

careful. The air is tinged with fragrance sweet enough to make you stay

and pa.s.s the time staring at a clock’s minute hand and its lazy progression.

Sounds pretty much like a fairy freehold to me.”

“Wow, I am surprised you know the campus so…intimately, Miss Tōko.”

“Obviously. I’m an alumnus there, after all.”

This time, I make sure to have my voice sound truly astonished.

“WHAT?!”

“Stop giving me that look,” Miss Tōko says with an eyebrow raised.

“What, you thought Mother Riesbyfe would just mouth off the latest

school gossip to an outsider? She’s the one that contacted me last night

to see if I could do anything to get to the bottom of what’s happening in

there. I don’t exactly run a detective agency here, but I couldn’t turn down

the Mother Superior either. Now, I can’t go in there again, since I’d stand

out too much. I wouldn’t get a word out of anyone. So I thought long and

hard—” she draws the two words out with a smile on her face “—on who

could do it for me… Azaka?”

No. I turn away from her. I don’t want to hear what I think she’s about

to say. She looks at me with sharply narrowing eyes before she continues.

“Oh come now, Azaka. It can be fun! I mean, come on, what do you think

of when I say the word ‘fairy?’”

“Tinkerbell?” I quickly blurt out, as if this would somehow dispel the

topic, at which point Miss Tōko chuckles.

“A comforting image, and one that is popular among mages who try to

make familiars in the image of fairies. But unlike familiars, the true fae are

not creatures brought forth through the mage’s will, but actual living things

of varying species. Such things may be goblins, redcaps, or the oni of our

own country. s.h.i.+fty creatures, the lot of them. In Scotland, there are still

stories of fairies causing mischief among people…even some stories where

they cause bouts of forgetfulness among people, and drawing children into

forests to spirit them away for a week, replacing them with identical fetches.

Though their pranks vary, all fae share one unique quality: their lack of

empathy for the victims of their tricks. They are simply incapable of it. They

12 • KINOKO NASU

do it because they deem it fun, not out of malevolence.

“The incident in Reien could be their handiwork, but the act of writing

a letter seems to be out of their style. It indicates some kind of malice and

manipulation, doesn’t it? I fear, Azaka, that our culprit may be the first kind

of fairy that you mentioned.”

As ever, Miss Tōko never misses an opportunity to teach me more about

the invisible world she seems to walk through with so much ease. And like

a good student, I’m only curious for more.

“So you’re saying they’re familiars, being controlled by some mage?” I

ask. She nods in satisfaction.

“Yes, and the kind borne from a captured creature, to be sure. The mage

is probably using them to work his or her Art from afar, to do something

with the memories of the students in Reien. To have this hedge wizard

be so obvious in his work is almost uncharacteristically amateurish for a

mage. Or perhaps he doesn’t have such a complete command over his fairy

familiars yet. They’ve always been fickle sorts, and mages generally favor

other things over them. But this rank amateur has showed his hand, and

I’m thinking it will be a perfect test for you, Azaka. And so I order you as

your mentor to investigate the truth behind these incidents before winter

vacation ends. Find the source, and do what you can to eliminate it.”

There we go. Miss Tōko finally says the words I suspected she’d been

meaning to say all this time. In truth, the task scares me a bit, since I can

sense her hidden implication: that I’d be going in there alone, against an

individual similar to me and Miss Tōko, able to manipulate the very threads

of reality with the Art. And she expects me to root him out. I try my best to

hide my trepidation with a confident nod.

“Well, if it’s for the sake of more arcane knowledge, then I guess I have

no choice,” I sigh as I answer. Miss Tōko rises from her chair to give me

some doc.u.ments on the details of the situation, but before she can hand

me a folder, I have to voice the once concern that’s been niggling at me

since the moment I suspected what she would have me do. “But Miss Tōko,

I can’t even see the fairies. I don’t have the mystic sight or Arcane Eyes like

you do.”

Unexpectedly, she makes the grin that has only heralded her own brand

of mischief.

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that detail. I think

I can cook you up something far better than a pair of eyes.” Though she

struggles to hold her laughter in, she doesn’t tell me exactly what she

meant.

/ RECORDS IN OBLIVION - II • 13

Records in Oblivion - II

I leave the faculty room of Reien Girl’s Academy’s senior high school

department…unfortunately, with her tagging along.

“You know, I’ve been thinking. Maybe Tōko is actually an idiot and we

just didn’t notice.”

January 4, Monday. Past noon. Skies partly cloudy.

Walking astride me is Miss Tōko’s funny idea for something “better than

a pair of eyes.” The enemy.

“Having you of all people to sneak into the school with me? For once,

you have my agreement.”

“This sucks. I definitely got the short end of the stick this time, having to

put up this act that I just transferred here on the third term.”

We try to avoid looking at each other as we walk through a corridor

of the senior high school building. The girl’s name is s.h.i.+ki Ryōgi. Like all

students here, right now she’s wearing the Reien uniform, a dress patterned

after a black nun habit that almost always looks weird on any j.a.panese

person. And yet s.h.i.+ki wears it like an old glove. When I see her dark hair

still distinctly visible even against the black fabric of the dress, and how it

can’t hide her slender shoulders and the pale whiteness of her nape, even

I have to admit that she looks good on it; as good as any quiet Catholic girl,

which of course, she is anything but. The entire thing gives me a faint feeling

of disgust.

“Azaka, those two girls were just staring at us.” And of course, like an

idiot, s.h.i.+ki is staring right back at the uppercla.s.smen we just pa.s.sed as

well. It hasn’t been the first time it happened today, and after a few looks, I

think I have an educated guess as to what could be so interesting to them.

In an exclusive all-girls inst.i.tution like Reien, the androgynous nature of

s.h.i.+ki’s appearance must be some kind of anomaly. There are few people

like s.h.i.+ki in here, and her presence is bound to attract some kind of attention.

The same two girls that we just pa.s.sed must have only wanted to talk

to her in some kind of childish attraction.

“Don’t pay them any mind. You’re a new face. Transfer students at this

level are just rare, that’s all,” I caution to her. “It doesn’t have anything to

do with what we’re investigating.”

“There’s a surprising number of students for the winter vacation, don’t

you think?”

“Ugh. It’s a boarding school, obviously. A lot of these people live far

away, and would rather just stay here over the break. Only the library on

14 • KINOKO NASU

the first and fourth floor are actually open, but since the dormitories are

well-stocked anyway, barely anyone heads to the main building. Unless you

need to report to the nuns for violating some rule.”

Rules which are very, very strict, and the violation of which enough times

is enough reason to expel you. “Don’t go outside” being the most tightly

held one, and they won’t make an exception even if your parents themselves

showed up. Still, money has proven to change that easily enough,

which I found true with my erstwhile friend, Fujino. As a man of capable

capital who donated significant money to the school, Fujino’s father found

a way to get her out whenever she wanted. As for me…well, certainly my

high grades helped, which led to my uncle being employed by Reien as a

painter (which completely suited his mercenary motives for letting me go

here). They were more lenient of my excursions after that.

Remove the religious veneer and Reien itself is little different from other

high schools. Students still study their backs off just to pa.s.s a test to get into