Vol 6 Chapter 1.1 (1/2)

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Where did you come from? Where were you born?

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CHAPTER 1

'Twere best not know myself

To know my deed, 'twere best not know myself.

Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst!

-Macbeth Act II Scene II [1]

He heard the sound of the wind. It was a dry, sorrowful sound.

It can't be...

s.h.i.+on stopped his feet, and blinked slowly. It was dark. Even when his eyes were accustomed to darkness, the gloom only reflected into his eyes as gloom, and was entirely painted black. And of course, there was no wind blowing.

Here, they were at the bottom of the earth.

A place in the bosom of No. 6―precisely, a place of darkness. The bas.e.m.e.nt of the Correctional Facility. Of course there would be no wind blowing. There was no way he could have even heard its sound. Yet he had definitely heard a high-pitched whistling. It was for a mere instant, but he had heard it.

It wasn't a sound he had heard before in No. 6, where he had been living only a short while ago. It wasn't a breeze that gently shook the abundant canopies, nor was it something that wafted the sweet fragrance of flowers to him. It was―

The wind of the ruins.

It was the cry of the wind that whistled through the remains of the dilapidated hotel in a corner of the West Block. It was a cold wind. Every time he felt it against his body, he remembered feeling like he'd been chilled to the marrow of his bones. And indeed, people like the elderly who collapsed on the road, unable to move, or children who had been depleted of energy from starvation, were whipped by this frigid wind and eventually froze to death. It was a cruel and ruthless winter wind.

But he missed it.

He yearned many times more for the chilling wind that swept through the ruins over the gentle, harmless breezes in No. 6.

What was Inukas.h.i.+ doing now? Was he simmering leftovers in the big pot, briskly making food for his dogs? Was he busy tallying up his earnings for the day? Inukas.h.i.+, with his tan skin, ink-black hair and wiry body.

He had left a baby in Inukas.h.i.+'s care. He had thrust a small infant boy upon him against his will.

Cut the c.r.a.p, s.h.i.+on. I'm operating a business here, my hotel. I'm not running a non-profit orphanage.

s.h.i.+on could imagine his face, scowling in disgust.

Sorry, Inukas.h.i.+. I didn't have anyone else to depend on. I had no other choice but to cling and beg for your help.

Tsk.

Inukas.h.i.+ clicked his tongue.

Pain in the a.s.s wherever you go, aren't ya? Fine, I'll take it. Even I have the heart to feel a bit of compa.s.sion. But it's a tiny one, and even a dog would turn its nose up at it. No choice, though. This baby's someone my own dog has risked its life to protect. I can't just throw him away.... Look at me, I'm a pushover. Makes me sick of myself, even.

Inukas.h.i.+, my grat.i.tude.

Doesn't make me happy one bit to have any of your grat.i.tude. Doesn't give me any gain. s.h.i.+on, I'll take the baby for now. Got it? Only for now. You better come pick him up. You decided to take this guy in. You gotta raise him. Understand? You better come pick...

”s.h.i.+on.”

Nezumi turned around, and called his name. He could clearly see the pair of l.u.s.trous grey eyes. Even in this darkness, Nezumi's eyes both sucked light in, and released it. Or― s.h.i.+on let his thoughts wander.

Or could I still render those eyes, even if there was no light, even if I was in complete darkness without a single ray to illuminate my way?

”Don't stop walking. Keep right behind me.”

”Oh―right. Sorry, I was s.p.a.ced out a bit.”

”s.p.a.ced out?”

”I thought I heard the wind blowing. Like the wind that used to blow against Inukas.h.i.+'s ruins... I know I'm just hearing things, but―Nezumi.”

”Hm?”

”I wonder what Inukas.h.i.+'s doing right now.”

Nezumi blinked. s.h.i.+on could make him out catching a breath.

”You've got guts.”

”Huh?”

”Not just anyone can s.p.a.ce out in a situation like this. There are probably tons of people who go into shock from nerves, but to be able to hear the wind blowing, or casually think about other people―that's colossal. The amount of guts you have probably puts you in ranks with the G.o.ds. You will let me wors.h.i.+p you every day, won't you, once in the morning and in the evening?”

”Are you being sarcastic?” s.h.i.+on said flatly.

”Why, never,” Nezumi said. ”I haven't got the courage to smart-mouth a G.o.d. I'm genuinely impressed. But―”

s.h.i.+on was grabbed by the arm. It hurt. He felt Nezumi's fingers digging into him. He knew how much strength those fingers held, despite how slender and almost delicate-looking they were. So many times Nezumi had clenched his arm, making him wince in pain. So many times he had grabbed his arm and pulled him up. Again and again, countless times―from death to life, from despair to hope, from fiction to reality, s.h.i.+on had been able to crawl up and out thanks to these fingers.

”From now on, be a bit more of an earthly coward. Don't give a d.a.m.n about Inukas.h.i.+. Only think about protecting yourself.”

”Got it.”

”―Do you really get it?”

”I do―probably.”

”Probably, huh. Nothing rea.s.sures me less.” Nezumi gave a sudden laugh. It was small, but it was lighthearted and filled with mirth. ”Look at the conversation we're having, in this place, in this situation. The epitome of flippancy, I think, both you and me. Maybe I'd be able to join the G.o.ds if I hang around you more.”

Then his tone suddenly changed, into one that was heavy and severe. His fingertips dug in with even more force.

”No matter what happens, don't stray from me. Keep up with your own strength. I told you before. I won't say it again.”

s.h.i.+on nodded. Nezumi turned his back and resumed walking, either having seen or felt the slight inclination of s.h.i.+on's head in reply. The figure before him wouldn't turn back around as easily. s.h.i.+on knew that well, too.

If he wasn't desperate enough to live, if he didn't greedily latch onto life, then Nezumi would not turn to him.[2]

Nezumi would never revere a flippant and un.o.bservant G.o.d. s.h.i.+on inhaled a breath of darkness, and placed his foot forward.

A small path continued up a slight slope in the crack between the boulders. It was just wide enough for an adult to get through. It might even be narrower than the former pa.s.sageway, cased in concrete with small light bulbs at equal intervals. It wasn't a long journey, but twists and turns made it that much harder to walk through.

But at least―

s.h.i.+on wiped his sweat with the back of his hand.

But at least it doesn't smell like blood here.

The air was absent of the b.l.o.o.d.y stench that had filled the other pa.s.sageway. There were no screams or groans of the dozens of people dying―being murdered.

There was only darkness.

Even if this were only to last for a short moment; even if there was a reality beyond s.h.i.+on's imagination waiting for him beyond the darkness, as it had always done, he would not have to breathe the stench of people being unfairly and pitilessly obliterated.

He was grateful. As if he had encountered an oasis in a desert―he was grateful.

You're naive.

He chewed his bottom lip.

Nezumi didn't even have to tell him. He was so very much naive.

I just can't smell it. I just can't hear it. I just can't see because of the wall that divides us.

But it's still happening right beside me.

The reality that dozens of people―including newborns―were being unfairly and pitilessly obliterated, still existed on the same stretch of land that s.h.i.+on stood on, right here, right now.

Just because he couldn't smell it, just because he couldn't hear, just because he didn't see, didn't mean that it didn't exist. Just because he had arrived at an oasis, it didn't mean the desert had disappeared.

I'm naive; I'm idealistic. He couldn't help but make excuses. He couldn't help but try to forget the wrath he had felt when he had witnessed the brutality. He wanted to avert his eyes from grisly things. He was trying to curl up and lend himself fully to the comfort of falling into an ignorant slumber.

I am naive. And I am weak.

He traced the rocky wall with his hand, and did his best to keep up with Nezumi.

What was important right now was to follow him. And I've always followed him. He had walked down a nighttime path for the first time in the West Block. He had torn through it, even. If it weren't for that experience, he would probably not be able to walk through the oppressive darkness now that seemed to crush his very eyeb.a.l.l.s.

In that sense, I've toughened up a bit, he told himself. Believe. You've got your own kind of strength stored up inside you. Believe yourself wholeheartedly. It was easy to fall back to self-loathing, and wallow in defeat―but it was meaningless. Believing yourself was strength. With this strength as fuel, as a weapon, one could overcome innumerable difficulties.

s.h.i.+on funnelled his concentration into the soles of his feet, and moved forward one step at a time. He met a light. It was dim. It was gradually beginning to lighten before his eyes.

Nezumi's figure glided into that dim light as he watched from behind. s.h.i.+on quickened his pace.

”Oh―” his breath caught in his throat.

They had emerged into a s.p.a.cious chamber. It was much more s.p.a.cious than where Nezumi and the sand-coloured man had fought. The ceiling was lofty. It looked almost three storeys high. The same rugged boulders jutted out from all around.

This place is a naturally-occurring series of caves, huge and complex. Nezumi had told him. Then this must be a chamber that nature had created. Candles were lit here and there in the crevices, and they were not the only thing: lamplight also winked in some places. They were all dim, but warm, sources of light. They were beautiful, too―like small flame-coloured flowers blooming in the alcoves of rock.

Alcoves?

s.h.i.+on squinted. He baited his breath, and squinted as hard as he could. He baited his breath more.

A shadow moved.

One, two, three, four.... They were not mice; those were not small animals. Numerous shadows were moving around. They stood on two legs, and were whispering to each other. On two legs, whispering....

Humans!

The lump he had swallowed stuck in his throat. His heart raced.

Humans. There are humans here. They're peering out at us from the alcoves. Humans. If he squinted even more, he could see a large cavern yawning its large mouth from behind the lit candles in the crevices. So there were tunnels even further on inside these caves. The people had probably crawled out from there.

s.h.i.+on couldn't make out each individual figure with his eyesight, but he could tell that they varied in height and build.

Were there men and women, both adults and children? All of them identically leaned forward, and were gazing down upon them. s.h.i.+on felt like he could see each person's eyes glinting dully if he stared long enough.

”Nezumi, these people...”

”Who do you think they are?”

”Oh―survivors. They must be people like us, who've managed to escape the execution grounds.”

”Wrong.” Nezumi shook his head. It was a languid gesture, unusual for him. ”They've lived here way before that.”

”Way before... what do you mean?”

”You'll see in a bit.”

'You'll see in a bit'―I guess you're right.

You will see. As long as you have the will and the strength.

s.h.i.+on clenched his fist. It was easy to question. He had always been asking questions up until now. He had always instantly, so easily, begged Nezumi for the right answer without trying to decode the reality that appeared before his eyes.

It won't work anymore.

He would find the answer himself. He would grasp it. He would decode it. Other people were other people, even someone as close as Nezumi. He would not be able to render the truth if he kept leaning on other people's words. He would not be able to face off with a reality that surpa.s.sed his imagination. He would not be able to stay equals with Nezumi.

He had to render it himself.

Nezumi dropped his gaze from s.h.i.+on. His grey eyes clouded over. Clearing it away with a blink, Nezumi swept his hand aside in a smooth gesture. It was a graceful move unique to him.

”Look, isn't it spectacular? Everyone has turned out for the welcoming parade.”

”Famous even in a place like this, aren't you?”

”―Idiot. s.h.i.+on, this is your welcoming.”