Loups-Garous (2 page)

As for the weekly group format, more and more kids were having difficulty with normative human interaction, or would be soon. The groups were utterly useless. People already able to communicate effectively with others didn't need this group, and the kids who couldn't communicate would never learn anyway.

Mio Tsuzuki would never learn. At least that was what Hazuki thought.

On the one hand, Ayumi went totally unnoticed. She, like Mio, had no outstanding characteristics worth digging up from public records. If you didn't know any better, you'd think Ayumi was the superior learner. The fact that these two were having a normal conversation was hard for Hazuki to swallow.

Mio dropped her purse on the ground and squatted down. Her eyes were huge. Her glare was piercing. Hazuki wasn't used to being looked at. She felt like a monitor herself when people looked at her. It wouldn't matter the query you input, she would not be able to respond. Mio kept staring at Hazuki and said, “You from the ranch, was it?”

“The ranch, yeah.”

“Your dad's the politician, right?”

“Step-dad.”

“You're adopted?”

“I see my dad maybe once a month.”

“That's nothing. I see mine less than once a year.”

“Hmph.”

The conversation was going nowhere.

“Why aren't you staying after group today?”

Ayumi's voice came from above her. “Yeah, aren't you teaching our proctors physics or something?”

“She's teaching the proctors?”

Hazuki looked at Mio's eyes for confirmation. Mio smiled. That she couldn't deny it probably meant it was true. It was entirely possible. It didn't occur to Hazuki, but if Ayumi had this information, it was probably common knowledge.

Mio looked up at Ayumi and said, “It's not the proctors I'm teaching. It's the counselor, Ms. Fuwa. And it's not physics, it's statistics.”

Ayumi kept staring at Mio. She didn't respond. Mio continued.

“She told me to go home. The proctors told us all to hurry home.”

“They always do.”

“Today's different. They said it's dangerous.”

“Dangerous?”

“They're saying someone might get murdered tonight.”

“Murdered? You mean that…”

Yes. People were being murdered. The body count was at four so far. They were all fourteen to fifteen-year-old girls. It didn't matter where you were logged on, the public news bulletins announced the murders every hour, and it was all anyone would talk about on the TV tabloids. Even online, anonymous tips and news items ran alongside each other in a barrage. Hazuki hadn't been reading any of it, but she'd heard they'd started a bunch of conferences. Still…

“It's not news, you know.”

Every year there was some serial killer on the loose. One who somehow evaded capture. Just last summer, six people had been killed, and the culprit was never arrested. There were probably several killers living in plain sight, leading normal lives. Nothing to get all freaked out about now. The only reason anyone was talking about it now was because the victims were all minors.

“It's all happening nearby,” Mio spoke up.

“You mean in neighboring areas,” Hazuki said. In other words, it was always someone else.

The murders had all taken place in adjacent areas. No one had been killed in Hazuki's neighborhood. Public safety was the one thing the town had going for it.

“
It's not
just
nearby
,” Mio said importantly, clasping her hands behind her and looking up at the sky.

“It could happen to us, you know. The neighborhood associations and our local police are all freaking out.”

“Why—someone die?”

Hazuki tried to think. Had anyone been missing in group today? She hadn't gotten the impression anything was amiss at the session. But it could just be that Hazuki hadn't been paying attention.

Wait. There was something…

“Someone was absent today.”

What was her name?

“Yabe.”

“It was Yabe!”

And just as quickly as the name came to her did she think she knew her well. But Hazuki hardly knew the names of half her groupmates.

Ayumi, still standing, said, “It wasn't her.”

“She's not dead.”

“She's not dead?”

What a weird conversation
, Hazuki thought.

“It was someone else who died,” Mio said.

“They found the body this morning.”

Ayumi shot a look at Mio. The sun shone in her eyes, making Mio's face impossible to see.

“Under the Central North-South Line overpass. Right at our district borderline.”

“But I haven't…”

Seen anything. Heard anything.

“There's nothing in the news yet. The local police, prefectural police, and sheriff are all investigating it now.”

“Investigating?”

“Look. The local government and the head office on the case will differ on whether it's part of the serial killings or if it's just a singular incident. If the events have spread out across areas and prefectures, the case becomes a wider concern. The methods change, the system changes— historically it's how the country's been run. Of course, the initial investigation is always a failure, so there are tons of holes in the case later.”

Mio spoke like an adult.

“How do you know all this?”

“I nosed around. infiltrated.”

“Hacking into computers again? You're going to get caught one of these days.”

“I'm never getting caught.” Mio was still looking up at the sky as she dismissed Hazuki. Perhaps Hazuki had Mio all wrong. Something about her was off. Hazuki looked back up at Ayumi but couldn't see her face.

“The victim supposedly had the same eyes and mouth as the others. Face and throat were slit.”

Still looking up. Kill the victim and then slash her with a sharp knife— that was the serial killer's pattern. One person, one move.

“Thing is…”

“They say the victim's a boy.” Mio slid down and kept looking up. Hazuki turned her head up too. The sky looked weird unframed, so she immediately looked away.

“A boy…and from our neighborhood?”

“Yeah. We probably met him during that coed session last week, right? Not that I care or anything. I didn't look at his data profile, so I don't even remember his name. But he's from around here.”

“That may be…but still.”

Hazuki looked at Ayumi again. It was too bright to see.

“And…” Ayumi started.

“What are you doing here?”

“Like I said. I'm bored. They say
go straight home
, but that's where I'm most likely to get killed because then I'd be alone. And all these victims have been attacked on their way home from school, so if they tell us to go straight home, I'm saying, at least escort us back. Right?” Mio was still lying on her side looking up at the sky without expression.

She really had a way with words.

“They aren't escorting anyone, eh? Not even important geniuses like you.”

“They're having a conference.”

“Conference?”

“When you talk to a group of people face-to-face. Adults like to meet in person and talk to each other. Such a waste of time.”

Mio went on importantly about how
meeting each other in person and talking face-to-face isn't going to catch the killer
, then sat up straight. Dried grass was stuck all over her backside and hair. She started clapping it off her shoulders, then shook her bob haircut furiously. The grass stuck to everything it touched and wouldn't fall.

“This is stupid.”

“Everyone's freaking out though.”

“No one is freaking out. It's always like this.”

“They don't usually clamp down like this though.”

Mio stuck an index finger into her collar and wrung the neckline as if to open up a little space. “Sounds like you know what you're talking about, Kono.”

“I don't.” Ayumi looked down.

“You really like pestering people, don't you, Tsuzuki.”

“It's
fun
.” Mio laughed.

“What is?”

“I can't stop wondering.”

She never knew how people would react…probably.

Ayumi stared blankly at Mio's feet and said without thinking,

“You mean you don't know what stupid people think?”

Mio's eyes widened.

“If we think at all. I bet it's hard figuring us out. Or is that what we're learning in this communications group?”

“You're such a model participant,” Ayumi threw in.

“Whaaat?” Mio's voice went up several octaves.

“That's a pretty boring comeback.”

“Unfortunately, I'm no comedian,” Ayumi said, looking back at Hazuki. “Am I?”

Their gazes moved on as Hazuki lowered her head, unresponsive. The weeds snapped at her calves.

“What I'm saying is…it's not cool for you to be investigating us.”
Investigating
. Mio furrowed her face.

“I'm doing no such thing.”

“You were just staring at us, weren't you?”

“I can't talk to you unless I see you.”

“You can't even look at me.”

It was true. Ayumi had never actually looked at Mio.

In fact.

Ayumi had never faced anyone. Not even Hazuki.

She suddenly came back at Mio and gawped.

“What?”

Mio shifted her sight line past Ayumi's temple.

“See. You can't even maintain eye contact. You don't want to be looked at either.” Mio made a bored expression.

“Jerk.”

“Yep.”

“That's why I choose to be alone,” Ayumi said as she sat back down and looked at the stick building far away. The gesture was like a curtain call declaring an end to the conversation.

It was true.

Ayumi was vetoing.

Mio raised both her eyebrows at Ayumi's still back and let out a sigh.

“Oh well.” She stood up.

She'd apparently had the same thought as Hazuki.

“That was fun, guys.”

Was it? Ayumi glimpsed Hazuki, who continued to avoid eye contact. Mio shimmied over the railing and walked away. She was so different in person. Nothing like what the public data said, nothing like in the encounter group.

Ayumi, without so much as looking after Mio, repeated to the faraway that she had been staring at,

“I hate being watched.”

“Tsuzuki said it herself just now. There's no point in talking face-to-face.”

“Yeah, but…”

Maybe I'm bothering her too
, Hazuki said to herself in a small voice.

She certainly didn't like being watched either. And yet, she couldn't stop staring at Ayumi.

Couldn't stop.

It was involuntary.

“Am I a bother?”

Her voice rose. She spoke doubtfully.

“You're not bothering me,” Ayumi answered. “You weren't saying anything, Makino.”

“Oh…really?”

I wasn't trying to be quiet
. She'd said a few words here and there.

Nothing useful, nothing important. Otherwise the two were just staring into the distance in the same direction. Except that…

Ayumi was always in Hazuki's line of vision because of the way they sat. Hazuki created the landscape Ayumi had to be a part of.

So.

So Ayumi had no idea Hazuki had been staring at her.

Or did she? Impossible.

They'd not yet made eye contact, despite their having sat there side by side. Ayumi couldn't have seen Hazuki watching her. There was no way Ayumi would know what Hazuki's eyes said.

It was a comforting discomfiture.

I guess it's only normal
.

Hazuki reassured herself in an internal voice only she could hear, then stood up.

“I'm going home.”

“All right.”

“You're not coming?”

“Huh?” Ayumi was distracted.

Now that she thought of it, Hazuki had never called back to Ayumi like that before. If she didn't want to leave what was it to her? Think of all the times they'd parted ways without saying anything at all.

“I mean, it being dangerous and all,” Hazuki explained, though why she felt she had to justify her comment, she did not know.

“With the murderer…”

“I'll be all right.”

Ayumi spun around and looked Hazuki straight in the eye.

Her eyes.

“I'm fine. The field's…” Ayumi said.

“Dangerous, you think?”

“What do you mean?”

Without answering her question, Ayumi said she smelled water.

“Huh?”

“Look up.”

Ayumi's mind was preoccupied upward, then the instinct hit Hazuki. She looked skyward as one cold, piercing drop of water crashed into her temple.

“Rain.”

She hadn't brought an umbrella, and it didn't look like Ayumi was going to budge. Hazuki held back despite herself. Ayumi interrupted Hazuki as she prepared to tell her she should get out of the rain.

“I'll be fine.”

Hazuki didn't understand what would be fine about it.

She turned around and started to head up the incline when she felt something against her foot. She prodded it with her toe and discovered under the grass a half-buried hard drive.

She picked it up and arched up to face Ayumi. It was definitely not hers.

“Is this…?”

Yours, Kono?
Knowing full well it wasn't.

Hazuki returned to Ayumi with the disc.

“I have no use for a drive with that much memory.”

It
was
quite large. If the number on the drive were any indication, Hazuki could put all the data she'd ever collected in there and still have plenty of room for more. The thought of that much memory made the object between her fingers heavier. It was uncanny. The drive shouldn't weigh any more because it could hold more information.