It was past 11 p.m.
"Well, thanks for tonight," Muimi-chan said as she rose to her feet. "Akiharu, take me home."
"Aw, why?" Akiharu whined. He shot her an aggravated look; he was sprawled out in the comer of the room. "Just go yourself. I'm gonna rest a little before I go. Your place is far. My place is in the opposite direction."
"Are you a man? Don't tell me you're not even worth a ride home."
"Tch... Fine."
He stood up, still looking aggrieved as if he knew there was no point in objecting. His eyes shifted over to Tomo-chan. "Well, here's your birthday present," he said, pulling a package out of his bag.
"Ah..." Muimi-chan said. "That's right, you give presents on birthdays..."
"Hm? What's that you say? What? Come again, Atemiya-san?" Akiharu-kun said with the glee of someone who had just defeated an ogre. "Don't tell me that you forgot to get your dear friend a birthday present! Oh my goodness, I cannot believe it! Is this a joke?! Ohh, what to do, what to do?! For the love of God, tell me, what to do?! Huh? Huh?"
"Cram it, oaf. Isn't my smile enough?" Muimi-chan said sulkily and headed toward the entrance.
"Hey, wait up! Don't get mad so easily! What are you, a kid?! Ahh, here we go. See ya at school, Emoto! Adieu! Let's hang out again soon, Ikkun!" Akiharu-kun gave a light wave and chased after Muimi-chan.
"Bye-bye. See ya again," Tomo-chan said as she waved sluggishly back. As soon as the two had left, her hands went for the present. She undid the ribbon and neatly opened the wrapping paper.
"I wonder what it is. Ikkun, what do you think it is?" It seemed the alcohol was mostly out of her system. Her cheeks still had a bit of red in them and her voice was a little shrill, but her personality seemed to have returned to its default setting. "I'm a little excited. This kind of thing always makes me giddy."
"Well, it's probably not yatsuhashi, at any rate," I said. Incidentally, the yatsuhashi I had brought had already been evenly divided among the stomachs of all five party members. "Judging from the size, it's probably an accessory or something."
"Yeah, maybe. Oh, it's a neckstrap. Pretty cool, huh?"
It was a capsule-style neckstrap with a liquid center. It didn't really look like a girly item, but as Tomo-chan had said, it was pretty cool.
"Heheheh, it's just what I was hoping for," she said gleefully as she immediately tried it on. "How does it look, Ikkun?"
"It's a good match," I said, but I didn't really know.
My eyes made their way from the gushing Tomo-chan over to Mikoko-chan, who was snoozing in the comer. She looked so peaceful that I couldn't bear to wake her. Perhaps she was planning to just spend the night at Tomo-chan's place.
"Hey, Ikkun," Tomo-chan said, suddenly straightening herself out. "I want to say thanks again for coming all the way out here today."
"I don't think it's the kind of thing you have to thank me for."
"But you don't like doing this kind of thing, right?"
Her question was a little awkward, but it also came out as if it was something totally normal to her. She delicately raised her face to view my expression.
It was like...
She was looking through me.
Like she was looking at my brain from the inside.
"Uh, no, I..."
"You don't like opening up to other people, right?"
"It's all right. I don't hate it. I actually kind of like goofing around with everyone like chums."
"That's a lie."
"It's the truth."
"It's a lie."
"Yes, it is."
She snickered at me. But her eyes weren't smiling. They actually looked rather sad and lonely. The strange combination of expressions had me puzzled.
What was wrong? What reason could she have for looking so sad when she had spent her birthday surrounded by friends?
There shouldn't have been anything wrong.
Supposing there was...
"Mikoko-chan..." she said, casting a glance over at the slumbering Mikoko-chan. "She's really a great girl."
"Yeah," I responded. I was being unusually direct — by my standards, anyway. "I bet she is."
"I wanted to be like her."
"Mm-hmm."
"But I couldn't."
"Uh-huh."
She cast her eyes downward.
"And now here I am, twenty years old, still unable to be like her. I'm sure it'll go on like that. No matter how many years pass, no matter how many decades. I'll never be like her, until the day I die."
"What's wrong with that? Everyone's different."
"Say, Ikkun," she said, looking up again. "Have you ever felt like, as a human, you're damaged goods?"
I had no idea how to respond.
"I have." She was smiling. It was the saddest smile I had ever seen.
"Everybody does..." The words just came out. Whether they were really from the heart, I didn't know. They were just words of comfort. I was probably just saying words I didn't really mean so as to not have to see Tomo-chan look so sad.
What a slimeball.
How comical.
How terribly unseemly.
"Everyone feels like that sometimes, I suppose. Nobody's perfect, after all. We've all got our strong points and our weak points. That's what makes us human."
"Yeah, I know. Even I know that, but you probably understand that that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about something more finite, I guess, or more lethal, like a fatal wound, I guess."
Boom.
The words shook me.
"It's kind of like that."
"...." So this was the real reason I couldn't read Emoto Tomoe very well. Perhaps this was really it.
In other words, a long time ago...
"There's another me right here," she said, pointing over her own right shoulder. "When I get all rowdy and have fun with Muimi-chan and Akiharu-kun and Mikoko-chan and you like this, that part of me is just watching on, sighing. It's looking down on me with cold disdain as I have my fun, saying 'What you're doing won't amount to anything'."
"Sighing," she said. "I know I'll probably never be like Mikoko-chan until the day I die, but maybe I'll be able to once I really do die. If I'm reincarnated, I want to come back as Mikoko-chan. I want to be able to laugh with complete innocence like her, to get mad when I want to be mad, to cry like crazy when I'm sad. That's what makes a great life."
"I..." This time I was speaking from the heart. "I don't want to be reincarnated. I want to just hurry up and die."
"I'll bet," she said with a gentle smile.
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Mikoko-chan woke up around one hour later.
"Uhhh." She shook the sleep out of her head. She still looked pretty tired.
"So what're you going to do?" I asked. "I'm going home. Are you going to stay the night?"
"No, I'll go..." She rose to her feet in a daze. "It's okay, I've sobered up. Give me ten more seconds."
"Sure. I'll take you home, then." I was at least worth a ride home, I wanted to emphasize, but she didn't seem to get it. She had been deeply immersed in sleep when Muimi-chan left, so that made sense.
"Well, bye-bye, Tomo-chan."
"Yep. See ya later." She gave a little wave.
I took my bag and headed toward the entrance. I sat down in the doorway and put on my shoes. They had messy laces, so putting them on was always much more of a hassle than removing them. Situations like these were an irritating waste of time. Meanwhile, Mikoko-chan seemed to be having problems with her own footwork, and a clumsy clopping noise could be heard through the door separating us.
It probably wasn't something to worry about. She appeared in the hallway outside the entrance shortly after me.
"Ohh," she moaned, rubbing her head. "My head hurts... It's spinning. It's like a murder at a convenience store, only the murderer is wearing Rollerblades."
"I have no idea what you're saying. Are you sure you don't want to stay here for the night? There's no need to overexert yourself."
"It's okay, I can go."
She hobbled down the hall on unsteady feet. I gave a shrug and followed after her.
"So did you have fun?" she asked once we were out of the building.
"Eh, I guess. But I think I'll pass next time."
"Don't say that. Let's do it again! With everyone! When's your birthday?"
"March."
She looked defeated. "Mine's in April. Ohh, I guess I should've invited you sooner."
"So, where's your place? I'll take you back."
"Near Horikawa. Horikawa Oike. But we've got to go to your place first."
"Why?"
"My scoot..."
Come to think of it, she had come as far as my place on her bike.
"Can you drive?"
"Sure..."
'Okay then." Obviously she was in no condition to drive, but if she said she could drive, who was I to stop her? When the time came, she could just call a taxi if she had to.
We took Nishiôji Street up to Nakadachiuri and broke east when, for some reason, David Bowie music started playing from somewhere. Thinking it was a nearby guerrilla concert, I was a bit taken aback, but it turned out to be Mikoko-chan's ringtone.
"Hm?" She pulled her phone out of her purse. "Hello? This is Mikoko-chan, the spunky and energetic girl of Lake Ashi! Hm? What? Tomo-chan?" It seemed it was a call from Tomo-chan. "Yeah. Yeah... Yeah, he's here with me right now. He's walking right in front of me. Sure, I guess. Okay, I'll pass it over."
She passed me the phone. "It's Tomo-chan. She wanted me to give you the phone."
"Me? Why?"
"....?"
I must have forgotten something at her place. I scratched my head as I took the phone. It was more than a little smaller than my own phone, so it felt kind of awkward.
"Hello?"
"...."
"Hello?"
"Ikkun."
A voice.
It was quivering like she was afraid of something. It could've been partially the phone's fault, but something in her voice was obviously different from when we had spoken moments earlier at her place.
"Tomo-chan?"
"Yeah."
"What's wrong? Did I forget something? I've got my bag here."
"No, it's not that. Um... I forgot to tell you something earlier."
Forget to tell me something?
"Yeah, what?"
"Never mind. See you."
Click.
Suddenly the call was cut off.
Beeeep. Beeeep. Beeeep. Beeeep.
After four rings, I took the phone away from my ear. I scratched my head, stared at it for another three seconds, then handed it back to Mikoko-chan. "Thanks."
"Sure," she said, taking it. "So what'd she say?"
"Nothing. I don't know what that was about."
"Huh?"
She gave me a confused expression, but I was the one who was confused. Tomo-chan wanted to tell me something? Why would she start and then stop like that?
"What? I wonder what it was. Maybe it was a secret or something. Did you guys have some kind of secret talk?"
"No, nothing like that, but... Oh yeah, Mikoko-chan." I switched trains of thought. "Is there somebody right here?" I asked, drawing a circle with my finger over her right shoulder.
"Huh?"
She raised a dubious eyebrow at me. Naturally.
"I mean, do you get the feeling someone is right there, looking down on you?" I asked.
"I don't think so, but... Why?"
"Eh, if you don't feel it then don't worry about it."
"If somebody was there, it'd be pretty scary," she said as she imagined it. "But as for in here," she said, pointing to her own heart, "there is somebody."
Huh. I nodded. Judging from her bashful smirk, she must have been talking about her boyfriend.
In about ten more minutes, we had arrived at my apartment. In the apartment parking lot, there was only a single bike, so it must have been hers.
"Whoa, it's a Vespa." And a white vintage model, no less.
This girl called her Vespa a "scooter"? A Vespa is a Vespa, and only a Vespa. Calling it a scooter was, to me, an insult. And not just your everyday insult — it was the ultimate insult, which threatened to shake my very existence. Everyone has one thing that they'd sacrifice their own life for, that they'd trade the world for, and to me, this was that thing. I wanted to shout at Mikoko-chan. I angrily turned to face her.
"...."
She was sleeping.
"I'm speechless."
She was sleeping standing up. She had been awfully quiet for a while. Was it possible that she had been sleepwalking? She probably had been. This was the power of the human race pushed to its absolute limit. I gave her a few taps on the cheek, but she refused to wake up. I had the urge to start stretching her face, but it seemed that there would be no way to explain my way out of it if somebody happened to see us, so I restrained myself.
"I wonder if I could just leave her here..."
If not, there were only two options.
"Hup," I groaned as I lifted her onto my back. She stirred a little bit on the way but didn't wake up. Likely because she was so short, she was actually quite light. Or maybe all girls were like this.
With her still on my back, I entered the apartment, then made my way up the stairs to the second floor. I clomped my way down the boarded hallway to the room next to my own.
I knocked lightly.
"Yeah, wait one moment," an answer came from inside. Miiko-san soon appeared before us. She was dressed in yet a different set of Japanese summer casual wear, which was red this time. I was pretty sure this was the outfit with the word Treachery printed on the back.
"Yes?" she asked, eyeing the girl on my back suspiciously. "You're still under the legal age, right?" she said after a moment's thought. "Well, of course, I'll let you hide out here, but speaking purely out of kindness, I suggest you just turn yourself in. Japan has a pretty capable police force. Not likely that you'll be able to escape."
"Oh, it's nothing like that. Er, this girl's a classmate. It looks like she drank too much and passed out. Would you be willing to let her spend the night?"
"Huh?" She put her hand to her chin and thought for a moment. "Why don't you just put her up yourself?"
"Eh, but I mean, as you can see, she's a girl. And it sounds like she's got a boyfriend, so I can't just have her sleeping over in my place, right?"
"Huh. Well, if that's how it is, I guess I don't mind. But what is given today I will one day receive. To ignore thanks where they're due is a dastardly deed."
"I gotcha. Want to go antiquing again?"
"Yes. Okay then. So what's this girl's name?"
"Mikoko-chan. Er, last name is Aoi, I think."
"Aoi Mikoko? Heh, strange name," Miiko-san said, taking Mikoko-chan from me. Everyone should have a neighbor as dependable as her.
"Well, I'll be on my way then."
"Mm. Get some sleep. You'd best not make yourself out to be some afternoon-sleeping lollygagger."
"Huh? I never sleep in the afternoon."
"Is that so? Well, just forget that then. Good night."
"Good night."
I bowed and returned to my room, where I laid down my futon and curled up on it.
"Time to sleep."
And so the day ended. Saturday, May fourteenth. No, it had already passed zero o'clock, so it was Sunday the fifteenth. So, at zero o'clock twenty-four hours later, it would be the sixteenth. The next zero o'clock would be the seventeenth, and so on.
Zero o'clock.
Zerozaki.
Wondering if that human failure was currently killing his seventh person or had perhaps already dismembered his eighth, the damaged goods gradually fell into a slumber.