oneshot (1/2)

(TL: There is a companion piece to this work t.i.tled ‘A Game to Make Him Fall‘. If you’re going to read it, please read it after this story.)

Author: Hiroro

ncode.syosetu.com/n4094di/

‘0.061%’

My morning always began with me activating my computer gla.s.ses, and checking a certain future prediction.

“Well, I guess that’s about right.”

Lately, I hadn’t seen the number it broadcast cross 1%.

‘The probability I can kill my wife without being found out.’

That was what I had preset the future prediction to calculate.

It had already been around fifteen years since home PCs got to be able to perform simple predictions if you entered the query. It was being used for various applications, and I was employing it without exception.

My wife and I were what you’d call a political marriage. The company my grandfather managed, and the financial support my wife’s father- now my father in law- had proposed, drew this political marriage together. When I was normal in looks, and there wasn’t anything particularly special I could do, the reason she wanted me was simple because that girl I’d never met had taken a liking to my photograph.

“I can’t think I’ll love you, but if you’re alright with me.”

Ten years had gone by since I said that to her. And our marriage. It’s not like I had a girlfriend or anything. And her looks weren’t for worse. My grandfather’s company avoided bankruptcy, and I was to be its next company president. Every little thing was going swimmingly. In respect to the world, and in respect to common sense, that surely how it was. But I didn’t think so.

Maybe because I felt strongly that I had been bought with money, to an extent I mildly hated her.

If I didn’t want it, I could have simply shook my head, but the situation wasn’t one to allow it. I mean, it had come to the point where grandfather’s company wouldn’t last a few days, and in the case it did go bankrupt, some part of me was convinced that stubborn grandfather of mine, with his overly strong sense of responsibility may try and choose converting his own life into money. He said his life was enough to save mine from ma.s.sive debt, so I could only permit the marriage.

“I may kill you and take all the money you’re to inherit for myself. Even so, are you alright with me?”

When we were done with the marriage, those words I nonchalantly tossed at her. For a moment, she made a face of surprise, before smiling as she a.s.sented.

“That’s fine. It’s only a matter if I can get you to fall before that, right”

Her challenging words somehow made her out as a gallant warrior, making me open my eyes wide for a second. And within the day, I had inputted, ‘the probability I can kill my wife without being found out,’ into my gla.s.ses. After entering that simple question, the wearable terminal took in various affairs, computed to a precise value of them, and output a probability. The first number to come out was ’38.235%’.  That surprisingly high number froze me in shock. For it to be so close to 40! I thought, but then I recalled my wife was going on a trip starting the day after. What’s more, a trip alone. Killing her, and making it seem she was still overseas sounded possible.

“Shall I make it seem I took a trip myself, and kill you? It seems I’ll succeed almost 40% of the time.”

“I see, good luck with that. Want me to bring you anything back?”

Her flippant words were so interesting I found myself asking, “You think I can’t kill you?” only for her to reply, “No, if you do kill me, it will be because I didn’t put enough effort into it,” with cold eyes.

I saw her off, and calculated another future prediction.

‘The probability I will love my wife half a year from today.’

‘0.001%’

I’ll bet, I nodded to myself. Even if I thought she was an interesting woman, it was a fact I didn’t harbor very good sentiment towards her. I couldn’t think that would change within a mere six months.

A few days later, I told that to her when she returned. I had been excitedly looking forward to her reaction, but she only returned an, “I see.” To be honest, it was a let-down.

“I was sure you didn’t hate me.”

She picked me as a marriage partner, so even if she didn’t hate me, I was sure she had some favorable sentiment towards me. But she had said two simple words as if she didn’t care at all. I won’t say I wanted her to cry, but I at least wanted to see her vexed expression.

“… Could I ask how you plan on killing me next?”

“What?”

“Before I left, you said, ‘Shall I make it seem I took a trip myself, and kill you?’ didn’t you? I was waiting for you the whole time. If you came, I was sure it would’ve been a splendid honeymoon.”

“You want to be killed?”

“If possible, I want to be loved.”

I thought she was an incomprehensible woman. In front of her, I flipped the switch on my gla.s.ses, and computed the probability again.

‘The probability I can kill my wife without being found out.’

’12.253%’

So out of ten times, I won’t be found once. That’s quite a number.

Since we were the only ones in the house at the dead of the night, that’s what I could expect. I stopped my thoughts here.

“Right now, it’s around 12%. I guess I won’t for now. If I do kill you, I’ll make it so you never returned from that trip, and leave your body in some ditch nearby. I’ll bet they’ll think you were the victim of some hit and run.”

“In that case, I recommend the park nearby. That place is famous for suspicious activity.”

“… I don’t understand what goes on in your head.”

“I’m just desperate to get you to love me.”

When I turned her some dangerous eyes, she gave a light laugh, and handed over a box, calling it a souvenir.

“I’ll throw it away.”

“I gave it to you, so I don’t mind whatever you do to it.”

So to fully answer her request, I threw it into the trash can with good momentum. And triumphantly turning to look at her face, I felt a bit of regret. Her eyebrows were drawn together sorrowfully as she looked at that box. I didn’t want to look at her eyes, so I hurriedly applied myself to my room.

While we were married, of course, our rooms were separate. Because I thought I’d never be embracing her, and was sure she didn’t want to be embraced by me either.

That brutal lifestyle continued and half a year pa.s.sed. When my mornings began, before I even left the bed, I’d look up, ‘the probability I can kill my wife without being found out’. And after getting up, I’d get my appearance in order, and head to the living room.

“It was 15% this morning.”

“Oh my, then should I be feeling relieved?”

“You never know. It’s possible I laced that coffee of yours with poison.”

“When I brewed it just now?”

“If I prepared it yesterday, it’s a possibility.”

“Then I’ll keep that in mind. And here’s some for you.”

“Thank you kindly.”

Taking that coffee that obviously didn’t contain any poison in hand, I arrived at my seat. From there up to eating the breakfast she prepared was our usual flow.

Otherwise, there were some days we wouldn’t have a proper conversation, but I had begun, more or less, feeling a sense of comfort at that. Her policy of nonintervention was nice. The breakfast and lunch she arbitrarily made was charming. But that was a different recognition than love, and if I were asked, ‘do you love her?’ the answer would certainly be a, ‘no’.

And just like that, two years went by. It was what others viewed as the time period where spouses broke up as couples, and began operating as a family. She said she wanted to go on a date with me.

“Well I don’t want to go.”

“But I do. Let’s go to the aquarium today!”

“I do not love you. It isn’t even a like.”

“But I do love you.”

And so what, I thought. Why did she think we could get along as a normal couple after so long? My irritation caused me to stare at her in silence. I perceived her easy smile.

“Are you sure you’re fine with that? You plan on letting this chance slip by?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you answer my invitation, you may be able to kill me.”

“I don’t just want to kill you. I want to kill you without being found out. If I get caught, there’s no meaning.”

“Exactly! Do you remember today’s numbers?”

“5.7… I believe?”

“Right, haven’t they been falling lately? Are you sure you’re fine with that? If you go places with me, that number may just skyrocket! If we’re in a crowd, and you stab my back with a knife that has nothing to tie you to it, you won’t be caught. But for that sake, we have to start going into crowds.”

“When we’re talking about killing you, you sure are in a good mood.”

“I want to be in a good mood for today. It’s alright, I’ll leave my back to you.”

“To be stabbed?”

“Oh, you can hold me tight if you wish?”

Lured by her amused laughed, I formed a smile. In the end, my opposition was overcome, and we went on our first date. We were almost into our third year of marriage.

If you only gave me two choices of fun, or not fun, I’m sure I had fun. It was my first trip to the aquarium in a long time, and I get the feeling I was in high spirits unbecoming of my age. It was a day my heart danced too much for me to check the numbers. And for her, smiling beside me, I wanted to thank her for that time alone.

When night came, we ate dinner at home as per usual. It was a bit more extravagant than usual, and looking over the table lined with nothing but my favorites, I finally looked at the calendar.

“It’s my birthday?”

“So you forgot it after all. We were celebrating it every year, for argument’s sake.”

Thinking back, I got the feeling there was always a day once per year where my favorite food was extravagantly lined up. Thinking it was a whim, I hadn’t been mindful at the time, but come so far, I realized those must have been my birthdays.

“I won’t say thank you.”

“You just did, so that’s enough.”

“I don’t have the mind to celebrate your birthday.”

“I did it because I wanted to, so you needn’t mind it.”

“…”

“Thank you for being born.”

“You’re welcome.”

Thinking back, I can understand she was only embarra.s.sed, but at the time I was fl.u.s.tered, and ‘is this woman alright?’ was all I could think.

As expected, my att.i.tude didn’t change, and neither did hers.

But once a month, we got around to going out together.

For me to kill her. For her to date me.

Did I really intend to kill her? If you asked, I would have to answer, I never did from the start.

It was true I didn’t think well of her, and if she died, then… it’s not like I never considered it. But something as high-risk as killing her wasn’t an option a coward like me could choose so easily.

As we’d become a married couple, it came up as just the right topic of conversation.

I’m sure she knew that. She knew, and used it in negotiations. We all acknowledged it, and I hopped on board those bargains.

Why was it? I thought I had a slight idea of what it was, but I hurriedly closed the box. I mean, it’s been so long.

From then on, two years pa.s.sed, and for the marriage, it was our fifth year.

“Today was 2.564%. The worst. It’s way too low.”

“I’m relieved it looks like my peace will go on.”

“You never change to begin with. You’re the epitome of peace.”

“That’s not always the case. I cooked today’s fish too long, and burnt it black.”

“Mine looks normal, though.”

“I quickly did another one for you. Just look over here, burnt black.”

Saying that, she showed the fish on her own plate, and gave a bitter smile. I took her plate, exchanged it with mine, and started on my breakfast.