10
The day after their fourth rehearsal, Ogami woke up past noon. He made coffee, heated up a stew from yesterday, and mechanically put them in his mouth. His body was sluggish all over. The sun went down while he lay down in front of the heater, and it was evening before he knew it. Every time they did a rehearsal, time seemed to accelerate. No, maybe it was more accurate to say his consciousness was slowing down. Either way, it was the same thing to Ogami. Time passing by quickly was desirable. Particularly now that he didn't have to worry about any practical life problems.
After 5 PM, he finally sat up, put on clothes, and got in the car for no reason. The navigation system asked his destination, but of course he had none. He couldn't even muster the will to go to the bathhouse. He considered going back to the room, but he wanted to make up for his squandered sleepiness somehow. In the end, he decided to drive around without thinking about anything.
As he focused on driving, he slowly started to wake up. At the same time, he didn't think a single extraneous thought. This must be why humanity loves cars so, Ogami mused. Their use as transportation is secondary. People get in cars because they don't want to think about anything. There's no need to even go over the speed limit; by putting yourself at speeds the human body wasn't made to account for, you can shove everything into a box of "that's neither here nor there."
After driving to the next town over, Ogami parked in front of a train station and walked for a while. He was starting to get hungry, so he searched for a restaurant, but couldn't find anything of the sort.
As he was about to give up and head back, a familiar store appeared before him. It was a brick building painted bright white, and only the door with a hanging "OPEN" sign was painted a refined color, hard to pin down as blue, green, or gray. In a town lined with sleepy houses, that refined shop stuck out like a sore thumb.
Ogami pushed open the door and entered the variety store. The wooden-floored shop was well-heated, filled with a scent of lamp oil and wood. Sitting on top of a heater surrounded by an iron fence, a large kettle was letting out steam. While the merchandise on the wooden shelves had been changed out, the rest of the shop had hardly changed at all from his middle school memory of it. Even the air and the creaking of the floor was the same as back then.
When he first came here eight years ago, Kujirai was with him. That time the two of them were looking everywhere for a place to buy a Christmas present for Sumika, an acquaintance had told them about a well-regarded store in a neighboring town.
Ogami didn't want the miscellanea they sold at this point, but it was a comfortable space, so he went around browsing the shelves. A collection of beautifully unnecessary things, even to someone who wasn't able to die, were put on display in a way that made full use of the space.
He didn't see any employees. Aside from Ogami, there was just a single customer, a young man. He wore a black down jacket, and had been standing in front of a shelf in the corner ever since Ogami entered the shop. He looked as if he might be seriously thinking about a gift for someone, though he also looked like he might simply be waiting for an employee to come back.
Come to think of it, where did I put those presents I bought for Sumika and Kujirai back then?, Ogami suddenly wondered. He definitely hadn't actually delivered them. After witnessing their secret meeting in the garage, his head was so full of thoughts he completely forgot about the presents. He believed he disposed of everything in his room when he left home after graduating high school, yet he didn't remember seeing the paper bag the presents were in.
When in the world did it disappear?
As he walked around thinking about that, he'd done a full lap of the store before he knew it. He took even more time gazing at the merchandise on the second lap. After finishing a third, he bought a notebook he had no particular use for and left the store. It was small enough to fit right in his jeans pocket, and used leather with a smooth texture for the cover. He wasn't sure whether the clerk at the register was the same as seven years ago. He'd completely forgotten their face.
There was an ashtray beside the store, so he decided to have a smoke there. As he lit the cigarette and did his first inhale, the door opened, and the man in the down jacket came out. Seeing that he was empty handed, it seemed he hadn't bought anything after all. Ogami quickly lost interest in the man and looked back down at the ashtray.
On his second inhale, he felt on the verge of remembering something. Something very important. It wasn't about where the paper bag with the presents went. It had to do with a more recent event, and it was unmistakably that man just now who stimulated the memory.
What could it be related to? Kasumi, Sakura, the acting troupe, the leader, the teacher, the detective, the educator... it wasn't any of those. It was a little bit older than that. Maybe even before coming to this town -
Sumika Takasago has killed herself.
The instant he connected that voice with the man in the down jacket, the memories came back to him all at once.
The inexplicable phone call just to inform him of Sumika's suicide. Now, he finally realized who that voice was.
Ogami hastily pushed his cigarette into the ashtray, and hurried in the direction the man went. He hadn't gone too far, so he caught up quickly. He was just about to get in a minicar parked on the side of the road. When Ogami called the man's name, he turned around. His expression of confusion, as he looked at Ogami's face, changed to one of pure astonishment.
Souma was a classmate from middle school. That was the only thing Ogami was able to remember about him. Despite having spent two years in the same classroom, he'd left as much of an impression in Ogami's mind as a person he only met once or twice. That was how little connection he had to this classmate. If they hadn't coincidentally met like this, he might have never in his life had an opportunity to remember him.
The two arrived at the restaurant they'd agreed to meet at right around the same time. After sitting in their seats and quickly ordering, Souma went "now then," faced Ogami, and laid out a few of those inoffensive phrases most people use when reuniting after some years. Ogami, too, gave inoffensive replies to them.
"What'd you buy?", Souma asked, indicating Ogami's paper bag.
"A notebook I've got no use for," Ogami answered. "What did you come looking for?"
"Nothing," Souma said with an embarrassed laugh. "I'm a college student with too much time on his hands. What are you up to, Ogami?"
"Managing to make ends meet working no-good jobs."
"That's an admirable thing."
There was silence for a while. Souma was the one who'd invited him for a meal, so Ogami continued eating in silence. Probably because he hadn't walked a long distance in a while, he was unusually hungry.
Eventually, Souma nervously broke the ice.
"Sorry about the strange phone call."
"No, I'm grateful," Ogami replied. Then he felt surprised that those words had come out of his mouth. Maybe resolving to leave this world had given him more peace of mind.
Souma smiled with relief. "Did you decide to come home because of my call, then?"
"Yeah. Haven't been back here since I finished high school."
"But you've been staying in town for a while now, right?"
"How do you know?"
"I passed by you on the street once. Though you didn't notice me then."
"I didn't know," said Ogami. "So then, why did you go out of your way to call me?"
Souma went silent again. Ogami noticed he hadn't been touching his meal at all. He kept putting his water glass to his mouth, but it hadn't even been half-emptied.
A waiter came over and took Ogami's cleaned plate. The restaurant was filled with evening customers and horribly noisy.
Souma spoke while looking at a family of four sitting next to them. "Hey, what did you think of Sumika back then?"
"Just how it looked."
"You liked her, huh?"
"Yeah. I was thinking about her 24/7."
"Well, so was I. You probably saw Kujirai as your only rival, not even noticing anyone else, but truthfully, most of the guys in that class were in love with Sumika. There was a long, long line behind you two. Did you notice?"
"No," Ogami said. It really was the first he'd heard of it. "But even if that was the case, it's not too surprising."
"That's why I thought you'd be someone I could share this joy with."
Joy, Ogami repeated in his head. In other words, had he hoped for Sumika's death?
"Maybe it's bad of me to use the word "joy" for it. It's not like I held a personal grudge or anything," Souma denied as if reading Ogami's mind. "But - and forgive me if I'm mistaken - as far as I know, even you, who was the closest to Sumika, couldn't become her lover. Isn't that right?"
"That's right," Ogami affirmed, not understanding what Souma was getting at.
"And then Sumika died," Souma said. "In other words, she finally couldn't belong to anyone. That warped joy was the first thing I felt when I learned of her death. And thinking you might be able to share in it, I called you."
"Pretty short call then, considering."
"I felt satisfied just telling you what I had to tell you," Souma said with a laugh. "But you know, that joy was shaken big-time when I passed you on the street the other day. Do you know why?"
Ogami shook his head, since he didn't.
"You were walking with a girl who looked just like Sumika. The moment I saw that, I was brought back to the classroom in middle school. Sumika smiling beside you, and me looking greedily from the corner. Ahh, I thought, so Sumika will always choose to be by Ogami's side."
"Sumika is dead," Ogami stated clearly. "That was her little sister, Kasumi."
"I know. I'm just saying that's the feeling I got." With that, Souma finally touched his meal. "I feel like I've been put at ease getting to talk with you directly. Sorry for dumping my pain and my relief on you."
"It's fine, everyone does it."
Souma ate about half of his cooled meal, put down his chopsticks, and said "I'd better get going soon." After paying the bill and leaving, Ogami found the night air unusually warm. Maybe because he hadn't had a proper meal in so long.
"This would normally be where people exchange contact info," Souma stopped and said, "but do you want to do that?"
"Nah," Ogami answered honestly.
"Good. Me neither," Souma said. "To tell the truth, there isn't a single classmate from middle school I still keep up with now. All the best people left town, so only the worst people like me are left. So I naturally stopped associating with any of them. But I think that's for the best. Just not having people who know my shameful past around gives me such immense relief. I don't dislike you, but I'd like to end it here if I can."
"Same here. I haven't contacted any old acquaintances even once," Ogami said. "Of course, I practically didn't have any friends from middle school on, but still."
"Weren't Sumika and Kujirai your friends?"
Ogami chose not to deny that. "Yeah. I had just those two."
"I think it's plenty to have two whole people you can still clearly say were friends after seven years. I don't have even one."
"And also," Ogami continued, "I never told anyone but those two my phone number."
Souma opened his mouth to say something, but stopped to think and remained silent.
"Just as you informed me, Sumika died half a year ago. That leaves only one person besides my family who knows my number. Souma, how did you learn my phone number?"
Souma didn't show any reaction for a while, as if he didn't even hear Ogami's voice.
But eventually, he smiled with resignation.
"You're right. I learned it from Kujirai."
"Where is he now?"
"I don't know. It's not like we had a personal relationship. About a year ago... no, ten months ago at most, he suddenly visited my house and handed me a note with your number on it."
"At that point -"
"Yes, at that point Sumika was still alive," Souma affirmed. "But Kujirai told me. If something happens to Sumika, let Ogami know. It was a sudden, one-sided request, so of course I could have refused. I didn't, because of the feeling I explained to you earlier. That wasn't a lie."
Ogami thought for a bit, then spoke. "Was Kujirai expecting Sumika to die?"
"Who knows. He worded it as "if something happens to her," so I'm not sure if he knew she would die. But he seemed convinced something would happen soon."
Ogami could detect no hint of a lie in Souma's words.
"I completely forgot I even made a promise like that. That's why I was so late to contact you."
"Did he leave you any other instructions besides that?"
"Nothing. Just to tell you the facts."
"What possible objective could he have in asking that of you?"
"I dunno. But you know, I didn't sense any malice in Kujirai's attitude then. Maybe he wanted to share a certain feeling with you, much like I did. At the same time, maybe he didn't want to share it with you directly."
Souma turned his back to Ogami and got in his car. He turned on the engine and drove off without even pausing. Ogami went back to his own car and lit a cigarette, gazing absentmindedly at the smoke filling the car.
Souma called me at Kujirai's instigation. Kujirai knew something would happen to Sumika. He felt a need to tell me, yet didn't want to tell me himself directly. Or maybe he wanted to, but couldn't.
Then did Kujirai kill Sumika after all? That would explain both him expecting Sumika's death and why he couldn't call me directly. It made sense. But judging him to be a killer just based on it "making sense" was really pushing it. You could have predicted Sumika would cause some major incident in the not too distant future even if you weren't Kujirai, and it's also conceivable that he simply didn't want to talk to me directly, like Souma said.
But all told, whether Kujirai killed Sumika or not doesn't matter to me right now. What's clear is that if Kujirai hadn't made this bizarre request of Souma, I wouldn't have come to this town, wouldn't have met Kasumi, wouldn't have seen Sumika's true colors, wouldn't have planned a double suicide, and wouldn't have arrived at this calm state of mind I'm in now.
Was there any other problem here?
The fifth rehearsal was their last. The spring equinox was just ahead of them.
Ogami and Kasumi went to the home improvement store and bought a portable shower that connected to a water tank. They tested it at the apartment, and it seemed to have no issues. "Make sure to charge it up," Kasumi instructed as she left. It feels like we're preparing for a vacation or something, Ogami thought.
Ogami had decided not to do anything special in the three days remaining before the main event. He couldn't think of a single thing he wanted to take care of while he was alive, and didn't have any interest in writing a suicide note or cleaning out his room. Paying mind to various affairs that would occur after his death felt meaningless. Kasumi seemed to feel similarly, saying she would spend the remaining time like a student on spring break should.
The final three days began. The first day had good weather, not a cloud in the sky. The temperature was ten to twenty degrees warmer than the day before, so Ogami went outside and started breaking down the snow piles. He scattered the snow in places where there was no foot traffic, and repeated the process every few hours as the snow melted. While taking a smoke break, one of the icicles hanging from the apartment roof fell and cracked with a tremendous sound. He became worried whether they could freeze to death in weather like this, but according to the forecast, there'd be several days of snow again starting tomorrow.
True to the forecast, it quickly cooled down again the next day with a snowstorm. That day, he went to the library to do research. He looked around for books about people doing double suicides, then went to the reading area to read them over thoroughly until closing time.
He found fewer than ten books that met his criteria. Maybe he just wasn't searching the right way, or maybe public libraries opted not to carry such risky books. He went outside every hour to have a smoke. Beside of the snowstorm, his fingertips were shaking by the time he'd finished two cigarettes. Ogami thought it a shame that today wasn't the day, but upon further consideration, figured it was best to avoid a situation too far removed from their usual practice. Wouldn't they be able to die most peacefully if it was simply "cold"?
Reading descriptions of people who performed double suicides, they all seemed to have been left with no option but suicide due to circumstances that could only be called tragic. In particular, most stories about family suicides were miserable tales. Compared to these, his motive felt terribly flimsy. Probably because it was. A girl who wasn't even his lover, but whom he once admired, had killed herself. A commonplace event. That same sort of thing was no doubt happening somewhere in the world at this very moment.
But it's not as if everyone dies for such fine motives that they're left behind in literature, Ogami thought a little bit later. There must be tons of people who die for worthless reasons. And the majority of such people die alone, remaining in no records nor in anyone's memories.
In that sense, maybe I'm fortunate. Because I gained a companion in Kasumi, I wouldn't have to die alone. If I hadn't been chosen as a Sakura, such a miracle would never have happened. You could say the System did a fantastic job with my mental health.
Soon the closing announcement played, and Ogami returned the books and left the library. Wiping off his car with a snow brush, he warmed up the engine and stepped on the gas. Many cars seemed to have been brought to a standstill by the storm, making for heavy traffic on roads that would normally be empty. Ogami sat at the back of the traffic jam, watching the chain of red tail lights while having a smoke. I can wait all day, he thought, calmly preparing himself. It was the first time a traffic jam this bad hadn't made him lose composure. When the flow of traffic resumed, he actually found himself a little disappointed.
He planned to spend the third day at the apartment doing nothing, but while lying down on the tatami floor and looking at the ceiling, the question that occurred to him at the variety store a few days ago resurfaced. Where had the paper bag with the presents for Sumika and Kujirai gone to? Maybe it was still at my parents' house somewhere? I thought I disposed of everything when I left, but maybe that was the one thing I overlooked?
Even if he wouldn't have to worry about such things once he was dead, he at least wanted to confirm the bag's location while he could. He wouldn't be able to stand it if he remembered where it was just before freezing to death.
If his parents were at home, he intended to give up on the matter, yet when he went to the house, he didn't see his father's car nor his mother's. He unlocked the door and went inside without making a sound, and listened carefully in the entryway for a while. His parents indeed seemed to be out, so he stepped quietly up to the second floor. The hallway felt considerably smaller than he remembered, but he didn't feel especially nostalgic. Coming to the end of the hall, he gently opened the door to his room, the one place he had once belonged.
The room seemed to be serving as a storeroom after Ogami left. Of course, nothing major had been brought in, so it wasn't too much trouble to search. And sure enough, he couldn't find the paper bag. It must have been disposed of at some point or another, and he just forgot about it.
Relieved, he left his old home behind. Even at this stage of being about to die, he didn't feel the tiniest desire to meet his parents one last time. He didn't even see a need to justify that to himself. They had both just been unlucky.
The fact he remained unshaken even when setting foot in his old house gave him confidence. Ogami walked the route of his former commute, heading for the middle school. He passed by Sumika's house, went down the small path between the fields, and walked along the tracks. Soon he reached the railroad crossing, but the gate showed no sign of lowering, and even after he crossed, it kept its silence.
Standing at the gate of his old school, he gazed at the building. No matter how long he stared, it didn't feel meaningfully different from looking at a school in an unfamiliar town. It seems there's nothing more that can threaten me, Ogami thought to himself. It's less that I have no lingering attachments, but rather, I wasn't even able to pick up any attachments. But I don't really mind that.
That was how the three days before the main event went by. He'd expected them to be a longer three days, but time neither lengthened nor contracted. Thanks to some whiskey, he was able to get to sleep his last evening before he could think about anything unnecessary.
When he awoke, his last morning was already nearly over. He prepared a slice of toast, fried an egg left in the fridge, and made instant coffee. So this unsatisfying meal will be my last breakfast, he thought as he ate.
After eating, he went out and shoveled the snow that had piled up two days ago. Back in his room, he took a shower, reheated the coffee, and drank it. Then he opened his suitcase to produce a paperback book, and lay down to start reading it. It was a book that dedicated more than 500 pages to the claim that "by design, humans aren't made to be happy." Ogami didn't have enough insight of his own to judge if this claim was right or not, but he felt comforted by the simple fact that a fine individual recognized by society was denying human life. Back when he was still living an unstable life, that book had comforted him greatly. As long as he shut his eyes to the fact the author was still in good health.
Kasumi knocked on the apartment door late at night. Ogami checked that he'd locked up, then left the room. He'd loaded the shower and water tank into the car in advance. They both carefully checked the battery and amount of water, then set out.
Neither of them said a word on the way. Not because of nervousness or unease. They believed there was nothing left to be said by now. Every time the tires went over a rut and shook the car, the water in the tank made a sloshing sound from the back seat.
It took less than twenty minutes to reach the riverside park. Compared to when he visited with the detective before, the fallen snow was a bit easier to deal with. Even so, the ground was still entirely white, so it was nearly impossible to gauge distance with the narrow field of vision provided by the headlights.
Arriving at the area he believed to be the parking lot, Ogami parked under the streetlight that served as a landmark. After turning off the engine, a heavy silence descended over the car.
If they proceeded as-is, their Handcuffs would alert the System to their lives being in danger, so the two removed their Handcuffs and placed them on the dashboard.
Kasumi opened the glove box and took out a small bottle of whiskey. As if in response, Ogami took a box of sleeping pills from his coat pocket. They were over-the-counter, so he couldn't expect a huge effect, but for peace of mind, he poured several times the recommended dose into the whiskey. They then took turns passing the bottle and drinking from it, gradually relaxing their brains. Once the bottle was empty, they got out of the car and opened the rear door, taking out the shower and tank and setting them up. Then together, they carried them into the park.
After arriving at a plaza a sufficient distance from the parking lot, Ogami set down the tank. He'd brought a flashlight, expecting it to be difficult to work in the dark, but thanks to the moonlight, it seemed that was unnecessary. It was unfortunate that it wasn't snowing, but Ogami knew from experience that the night chill was more intense when the sky was clear like this.
Kasumi took off her coat, leaving just a thin one-piece, and held out both hands toward Ogami.
"Now then, do it."
Ogami nodded and powered on the shower. For a few seconds there was just the sound of it working, then as if remembering what to do, the shower head started gushing water. When the water touched her skin, Kasumi laughed ticklishly. If it had been summer, and the park was covered in the greenery of trees instead of snow, maybe this would have looked like a charming scene.
Once Kasumi had gotten fully soaked, the two changed places. Ogami took off his duffle coat and had Kasumi spray him with water. The water didn't feel that cold; it was probably warmer than the air was. But the water absorbed by his clothes was at once chilled by the wind, and he rapidly started to lose body heat.
While looking for a good place to sit down, Kasumi suddenly grabbed Ogami's arm. Before he could think about what that meant, Kasumi pulled him to the ground. The two were lying down face-up on the snow. Kasumi was laughing with a stifling giggle. Either the alcohol combined with the abnormal situation had induced a high, or she was pretending to be high. Ogami tried to sit up once, but changed his mind and laid back down.
For a long while afterward, the two looked up at the moon absentmindedly. The moon had a near-oval shape, too ambiguous to tell if it was a half moon or full moon. There must have been a proper term for that shape. Thought it would do them no good to learn it now.
"Why do you think Sumika chose to die here?", Ogami muttered as if to himself.
"I thought you might have some idea about that, Ogami," Kasumi said.
"One time, I went with Sumika and another friend to see the cherry blossoms here."
"Then that's the reason."
"Maybe so," Ogami agreed. "Though maybe she only remembered it as an inconspicuous place, rather than a place she remembered fondly."
"No, I'm sure it was a place she remembered fondly. Her choosing this place must have been some kind of message to you, right?"
"I wonder."
"Talking's a good distraction. Let's talk more."
Ogami thought for a while, then asked, "What were you doing the past three days?"
"I was imagining my life if I didn't die."
"Did you feel any attachments crop up?"
"The fact that I'm here now is your answer."
"Now that you mention it, yeah."
Ogami subconsciously dug in his jeans pocket for some cigarettes, but they had been completely soaked by the water earlier, so he threw them out.
"To tell the truth, I didn't have a will to die," he heard Kasumi say.
"Then you can stop," Ogami told her.
"It's my sister," said Kasumi flatly. "That wasn't suicide."
Ogami reflexively looked toward her. But her face was half buried in the snow, so he couldn't tell her expression.
"When I found my sister's suicide note, I had the means of reliably finding out where she was," Kasumi continued. "But I pretended not to know, only telling our parents that I'd found her suicide note. And I didn't let them know right away, either; I delayed for nearly half a day, until it was completely too late for her. Do you know why I'd do something like that?"
"I do," Ogami said immediately. "You didn't want Sumika to disgrace herself any further, didn't you?"
Ogami hardly even felt shocked by Kasumi's confession. Maybe he'd realized it quite some time ago. At least in the event that someone else killed Sumika, that was the only plausible motive.
He felt just a tiny bit guilty for suspecting Kujirai.
Kasumi went on. "I think my sister didn't truly intend to die. It was a staged suicide, based on the premise that I would rescue her. Maybe she wanted to make others believe that she regretted her actions, or maybe she wanted to escape to somewhere like a hospital. At any rate, it was no more than a step in a plan. And she executed that plan putting 100% of her trust in me. But I let my sister die. Moments after I found her note, I had already begun thinking of how to fake the time of discovery. I thought, this is a chance that won't come again. Because I knew the sister I loved was already gone. Because I didn't want Sumika Takasago to be sullied any more."
Kasumi's voice was trembling, but by then, Ogami's body also wouldn't stop shaking. So he couldn't determine whether it was from the cold, or from the height of emotion.
"Now then, what will you do?", Kasumi asked, seeming to have pulled herself together. "Now that you've found the killer of Sumika Takasago."
"I won't do anything," Ogami answered. "Besides, I think you're underestimating Sumika. You know how she is; she would have caught on to how you saw her long before then. She must have been considering the possibility that you'd leave her to die from the very beginning. With that in mind, what if she thought it would be fine either way, whether she was saved or left to die? If she intended on being saved for certain, she would have surely chosen another method, and prepared a backup plan if not two. She wouldn't have walked that tightrope if the winds of chance could interfere. What I think is, Sumika was having difficulty taking that last step, just like we were until a while ago, and that's why she chose such a half-hearted method. Like taking a bullet out of the chamber to leave a chance of salvation, so that pulling the trigger would be easier. If Sumika was betting on tails from the start, then that means you answered her expectations wonderfully."
He thought he'd just say some words that sounded right to distract himself, but upon considering them further, he felt that theory might not be so off the mark.
He could tell from her breathing that she was taken aback.
"That's a wonderful way of thinking," Kasumi said. "It doesn't change the fact I left my sister to die, but even so..."
Ogami tried to give a reply, but his mind was already failing to string words together. The chill stiffened not only his limbs but his thoughts, and shivering got in the way of making precise motions. A heavy, uncomfortable numbness, different from cold or pain, was filling every corner of his body.
"This might not be as comfortable a way to die as I thought," Ogami said.
"Next time we do it, let's go with something else," Kasumi said with a laugh.
Once Kasumi's laughter stopped, silence filled the dark. They couldn't even hear the wind. There was just the pale night sky and the black shadows of the trees.
"I'm glad you were my Sakura, Ogami."
So Kasumi said, a long time afterward. No, maybe it had actually only been a few minutes.
Her voice felt strangely far away.
"Perhaps I was able to avoid dying until today because I knew you'd become my Sakura someday."
Ogami gave a short reply, but even he didn't know what he said. And the moment he finished saying it, an intense sluggishness overcame his mind and body.