Vol 5 Chapter 4.1 (2/2)
”It's too bad we haven't brought lunch with us. Wanna take a break anyway?”
”A break... here?”
”If you know any other resting area, then there.”
A tumult of groans rose up from below. They were, quite literally, rising up from where he was standing.
”There are... still people alive...” s.h.i.+on said falteringly.
”Probably quite a few. The ones who fell first probably didn't make it. The ones that fell second, third, might've gotten away with broken bones. If they're lucky. See, s.h.i.+on, we were lucky to be in the second group. If we were the first, we would've been smashed directly against the floor.”
s.h.i.+on remembered what he felt at the moment of the fall. The sensation of falling on top of human bodies. He had used the people in the first group as a cus.h.i.+on, those unlucky people who had been smashed to the floor, to lessen the impact of his own fall.
Can I even call that fortunate?
”You okay?” Nezumi said. ”If you're nauseous, it'll feel better if you get it all out.”
”Nezumi....”
”Hm?”
”I'm sorry.”
”Huh? Why're you apologizing?”
s.h.i.+on covered his face with his hands. The stench of sweat and blood, the groans of the dying people, enwrapped him whole. They dug into his flesh, and corroded his bones.
This is all I can take. I can't bear any more.
”I... can't do it.” He could only make it this far. This was the best he could do. He couldn't move a single step more. If Nezumi hadn't grabbed his wrist back there, he would have tumbled back down the slope. He couldn't do anything alone.
”I'll... only ever become a hindrance to you.”
”What're you bringing up old news for? You've always been a hindrance. You've never been anything more than that.”
”Nezumi... leave me here.”
”You're staying alone?”
He nodded.
”You'll die, s.h.i.+on.”
”I know,” he whispered.
”You won't die painlessly,” Nezumi said. ”I don't know how many days you'll be like this for. It might be the dead of winter, but if these corpses are left out, they'll start to rot. You'll either go insane in the stench of decay, or you'll faint again and again from oxygen deficiency, and weaken that way, or...”
”Or... die on my own.”
”s.h.i.+on, don't take death lightly. If you underestimate it, it'll come back to bite you in the a.s.s. Do you have some instantly effective poison on you, huh? How're you gonna kill yourself here, without a knife to slash your throat, without a rope to hang yourself? You can try biting your tongue, or jumping off of here, but you won't die easily.”
”You've―got a knife,” s.h.i.+on said hoa.r.s.ely.
Nezumi's shoulder twitched.
”So that's what you meant.”
s.h.i.+on was grabbed roughly by his hair. His head was flung back, and a knife was brought to his bared throat. He felt like the sharp blade would slice through his skin just from taking a deep breath.
”Are you asking me to kill you?” Nezumi hissed.
s.h.i.+on inhaled silently. What would happen if he got his throat slit right here, by Nezumi's hand? Would his blood spurt forth, and colour Nezumi crimson?
”s.h.i.+on.” Nezumi's voice shook. ”Are you trying to make me kill you?”
”Huh?”
”Don't 'huh' me. I'm asking you if you're trying to make me kill more people than I already have.”
”Never―” s.h.i.+on shook his head. Nezumi's fingers withdrew. ”I would never want that. I'd hate for you to.”
A long sigh. The aged female dog at Inukas.h.i.+'s used to sigh in a very similar way.
My goodness. What are we ever going to do with you, child?
”Look, think about it,” Nezumi said tersely. ”If I slash your throat, that's murder. If I give you the knife, I'm a.s.sisting your suicide. Either way, I'll have to take the blame for your death. Are you ordering me to take the brunt of it? And besides―”
s.h.i.+on was grabbed by the hair, harder this time.
”Then what would you have memorized the layout of the Correctional Facility for? We're just starting to need your brain the most. I'm not gonna let you forfeit the match now. I won't allow it.”
His hair was yanked mercilessly. The pain threw needles into his delirious consciousness.
”Without you, it'll be nearly impossible to escape from here. If you wanna die, I won't stop you. But do it after we get outta here. You understand what I'm saying, right?”
”Pretty well.”
”Then listen. It's just starting. Got it, s.h.i.+on? I need you.”
”Yeah.”
s.h.i.+on willed his legs to stand. He could do it, but barely.
”Good boy.”
”Yeah.”
”Let's get going, then.”
”Okay.” s.h.i.+on had no idea where they were going next, whether they were going to climb or descend. He didn't think of asking. He had no energy. He could only muster all the strength he could, and follow Nezumi. If he could be a necessary existence for him, then it was more attractive than dying in one stroke. To feel like this meant he still had the will to live. He still had... the will. So his soul hadn't completely withered away after all.
Nezumi whistled shortly. A clear, high note resounded in the darkness. After the sound died away, a silence fell. Even the dying people's groans were cut off.
Chit.
”Huh?”
Cheep-cheep.
A pair of small glowing dots appeared in the darkness. It was a colour s.h.i.+on remembered.
”Hamlet?” It was the colour of the little mouse's eyes. They were the red stars at s.h.i.+on's pillow as he got ready to go to bed; they were on top of the lofty pile of books; under his bed, always twinkling.
”It's not Cravat or Tsukiyo, is it...?”
”I told you not to give funny names to my mice,” Nezumi said in annoyance. ”And besides, what the h.e.l.l would they be doing here?”
”You're right.”
”But you're right about the mice part. It's a nameless mouse.” Nezumi whistled again. This time, it was a melody. The red lights disappeared for a moment, and when s.h.i.+on blinked again, they were right up close to him. Nezumi unwound a thin rope from his wrist. He tossed it lightly to the red lights.
”It's all yours.”
Cheep-cheep-cheep. The mouse squeaked. The light was gone―the mouse had run off holding an end of the rope in its mouth.
”Oh―it's young.”
”What'd you say?”
”The nameless mouse. It's younger than Hamlet and the rest, isn't it?”
”How can you tell? You couldn't even see the thing.”
”Oh... well, I just had a feeling. Like it was still young.”
After a few seconds of silence, he heard Nezumi click his tongue.
”Geez, your instincts seem to sharpen in the weirdest moments. I dunno if that makes you easy or hard to deal with.”
”I only said what I felt.”
”Hmph,” Nezumi sniffed derisively, ”talkative for someone who was about to give in a minute ago, huh? Means you've still got strength to spare.”
”You said you needed me. So I'm gonna try my best.”
”G.o.d, you sound like a kid. I only need your brain. Soon you'll have to run it full-throttle. Enjoy your holiday while you can. Here, take this.”
s.h.i.+on was handed a rope. He could see it was woven with a special fibre. It felt pliant and durable in his hands. Depending on how you used it, the special fibre could be used to sling and lift over a ton of weight, or cut cleanly through a single hair. The rope had been tied to something, for it was taut.
”Tie this rope to your waist. Tie it tight, and then you're gonna fly.”
”Fly?”
”Yeah, You're gonna fly through the darkness like a nightbird. Have you tied it yet?”
”Yeah.”
”Alright, we're gonna jump. Catch a breath.” s.h.i.+on was drawn closer, and he flew, half-carried by Nezumi, through the air. The darkness swayed all around him. He felt like he had become a pendulum. But his body soon hit a wall. He smelled dirt.
”Hold onto the rope with both hands. Don't dangle, get a foothold on the wall. Apply your rock-climbing skills, s.h.i.+on.”
”Sorry, I've never gone rock-climbing before.” He told himself over and over to calm down. The smell of dirt that tickled his nostrils gave him courage. It wasn't blood, or vomit, or the stench of dying people. s.h.i.+on inhaled a breath of air. Nezumi climbed up ahead of him, as if to show him by example.
”It's not much of a distance. Take your time on your way up. It's much easier than climbing a mountain of people.”
”You can say that again,” s.h.i.+on replied. But it was daunting task to climb a wall that rose almost perpendicular from the ground. s.h.i.+on felt like he was struggling fruitlessly.
”Did the little mouse come up this way?” he asked.
”They've got their own routes. You really love mice, don't you? Here, look, put your hand there, on the rock that's sticking out―yeah. Now here: there's a groove, right? Stay like that, and lift your body up.”
Guided by Nezumi's precise instructions, s.h.i.+on tackled the wall with all his concentration. It looked like Nezumi was only holding the rope with one hand. Sometimes he swayed unsteadily. The rope was probably not long enough for them both to tie around their waists.
I'm much worse than a hindrance: I could be endangering Nezumi's life. That's how powerless I am.
s.h.i.+on was confronted with yet another reality.
I'm powerless. But―
'I need you.'
He tasted the words in his mouth thoroughly. They were like an aphrodisiac. He could feel it quenching his body. s.h.i.+on dug his nails into the wall of dirt, and continued inching his way up.
Continued in PART B.
Notes
Lu, Xun. Trans. William A. Lyell. Diary of a Madman and Other Stories. University of Hawaii Press, 1990. 34. (back)
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