Loups-Garous (48 page)

Being linked was what gave one a sense of being alive.

This world with another reality; Hazuki was only able to see through her monitor.

She didn't know if she were dead or alive.

If Hazuki's heart stopped, if her breath ceased, if her brain waves quit, nothing would change. It would be just one of countless terminals turning off. It would be the disappearance of something already without mass.

So why was she so scared.

Just thinking about it made her sit up straight, sturdy. Her fingers were shaking. Her throat dried up.

That man was carrying a knife. With that knife, with that sharp metal object, that man was going to cut her body. He was going to stab her.

Ow.

It hurts.

If she was going to feel this way, she would rather not live. This.

This was awful.

A creepy moaning voice.

The doves.

A sound that evaded description. It was the sound in their throats.

Nails clicking on the floor as they walked, feathers brushing up against feathers.

It was all disgusting. Animals were not cute. They didn't look cute.

Hazuki was a little jealous of Yuko Yabe.

Yuko.

Yuko was dead.

It didn't feel true. Nothing was real. And yet if it weren't true why was she so sad.

Hazuki wrapped her arms around her knees and lowered her head and started to cry.

The doves started flapping around.

I want to die
.

And just then.

The doors flew open.

The first thing Hazuki saw between the doors was a black silhouette set against a quiet.

Round.

Moon.

“Makino…” it called. “You're here.”

Ayumi.

“Ayumi,” Hazuki uttered for the first time.

She wouldn't listen to her body.

Or rather, times like this, Hazuki didn't know how she was supposed to react, if she was supposed to at all.

She just lifted her face.

Tears fell one after the other.

They didn't relieve her of her feelings.

Where were you? I was so scared. They tried to kill me. Why don't you tell me anything? Why don't you listen to me? Are you okay? I was worried.

Were you worried?

She had a mountain of things she wanted to say, ask. But none of them would express how she felt, what she thought—what was in her head was all expelled, and whatever a stranger might casually think of her could be right, could be wrong. So she said nothing and concluded after some thoughtful hesitation that she was sorry.

“I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

Ayumi was being her same old self.

Ayumi looked in on the doves behind her wire cage. Where Rey Mao had broken it.

“For coming up without permission.”

“I don't mind. Did Mao do this?”

“Yeah,” Hazuki said and held her knees in again.

“Who chased you?”

“The area patrol.” Somehow, Hazuki was able to answer easily. Even though it was a horrifying experience.

“Real ones?”

“Real. But the same ones who kidnapped Yuko Yabe.”

“Ahh.” Ayumi stopped her hand on the wire fence. She looked up once.

“I didn't know where else to go.”

“This place can't be very safe either.”

“Really?”

“Apparently. That's what Ms. Fuwa said. I think she's right.”

“Fuwa? The counselor?”

“Yeah.”

“You met with the counselor?”

“Yeah. I wanted to leave you and Tsuzuki to her.”

“Leave?”

“I thought it would be dangerous to call the police or area patrol. Remember I didn't let anyone call them before, either. You guys said it would be okay and called them anyway. So I thought I'd make myself useful.”

She was right. She'd been opposed to Mio's plan to call the area patrol by way of Hazuki's foster father. She'd said it would be dangerous.

Mio had said she didn't know why it would be.

Hazuki…

…didn't know either.

But eventually had agreed to it.

Pretending nothing had happened with Yuko made her sad, somehow.

But Ayumi's conviction was correct. The patrol assailed her through the terminal through which she obtained the story.

“Fuwa…What did Ms. Fuwa…”

“She's on our side,” Ayumi said.

“Our side…you mean we can rely on her?” Hazuki asked.

“I can't honestly say if we can rely on her, but she will definitely not hurt us. I know that much.”

“You know that?”

Hazuki had no special feelings or thoughts on Fuwa. It was just that she didn't hate her.

Fuwa had once said to her that there were things about children that a counselor would never know. She couldn't remember when, but it left an impression on her, and since then, Hazuki'd felt positive about her. It was thousands of times better than the counselor pretending she knew more than she did.

“Adults are wise. Not like us. They're good at telling lies, and have stature. But because she ran into us, now she has nowhere to go either.”

Had something happened to her?

Ayumi applied her weight to the wire frame and brought the sides together, re-establishing the barrier between the doves and humans.

Then Ayumi just looked at the doves for a while.

“I tried going to your house.”

“Mine?”

“There were lots of cops. The door was torn open, so anyone looking in could see what happened. Looked like your dad was there too, though I didn't actually see him.”

Father.

I bet he's worried.

Because he's a nice man
. But that could be one of the well-told lies Ayumi suggested adults were so good at, and it could just be adult nature too. Still, Hazuki thought he'd be worried.

She thought it, but couldn't confirm it. She'd never felt like wanting to see him, but now, if even just slightly, she did. She wanted to see that he was worried about her, right in front of her. Otherwise.

She didn't know.

“I just took a look at my monitor downstairs.”

Monitor.

The window into existence.

“There was a turtle icon on the screen. When I opened it there was a message from Tsuzuki.”

“Tsuzuki…”

Mio. What was Mio doing?

“Is she all right?”

“After she called you she said the police came. They're suspicious of her because of her connection to the Cat. She's being followed, so she couldn't come here, and her house is being watched, so she can't go back.”

“So…she's okay.”

“I guess,” Ayumi said.

“I mean, if you're surrounded by the police, you're probably safe.”

“But you were attacked by the area patrol, right?”

“Yeah, but…”

“The police are not to be trusted at all. Even what happened at your house wasn't reported correctly. They just made up some story. And that's the story they're telling your father. They're saying the culprit was the same person who tore this metal fence.”

“Rey Mao? That's wrong. She—”

“Rescued you, I know. She's a champion of justice or something like that,” Ayumi said. “Sakura's the one who saw through the lie. I heard from Sakura.”

“Sakura?”

“Funeral Girl.”

She was the one who'd come by Yuko Yabe's house, according to Mio.

“She noticed something amiss in the information they were publishing, so she came over to my place to let me know. Then I went to your house, but it was dangerous, so I left. I was worried.”

“Worried, about me?”

Ayumi turned her head to Hazuki and nodded.

“Why?”

Ayumi had no reason to worry about Hazuki. And as Hazuki said as much, Ayumi turned and said, “You didn't have to worry about Yuko either but you did.”

“Yeah, but…”

It didn't feel the same. They'd never interacted with Sakura.

“Tsuzuki, Sakura…weirdos apparently worry about strangers. Don't sweat it.”

“I'm not.”

She didn't really understand.

“Did you respond to Tsuzuki's message?”

“No. I don't like sending messages.”

“I wonder if she's okay,” Hazuki said.

“Look, now you're worried.”

“Aren't
you
? Don't you worry about people?”

“No, I don't,” Ayumi answered.

“But you came looking for me.”

“I came looking for you instead of worrying.”

Ayumi brought a box out from under the table and lifted the lid.

“People die, even though other people worry. And people live despite not wanting to anymore. It doesn't matter what goes on in your heart; it won't make a difference in this world. I don't believe that praying or begging or concentrating on something will make it come true. So instead of worrying, it's better to actually do something.”

“Do?”

“Worrying and thinking about something is all personal. Do something. I'm not good with people.” Ayumi brought out something heavy from the box.

“I know that much.”

“Right? Say for example I was really worried about you. But I don't have the verbal strength to tell you that. Then you don't know that I worried about you. And if we were separated, then you really don't know that I worried. Then I have no choice but to do something. The heart doesn't communicate.”

She closed the lid on the box.

“People's hearts are kept in boxes like this. One can only make up what goes into it. People make up what goes into one another's hearts and get the sense that they've communicated. Whether they're right about what went in…can also only be made up. So,” Ayumi pointed to the lid. “There are people who learn to give names to what lies inside the box. People who notify others. Some people put labels on their boxes.

But no matter what you write or what the label says, you can't open the lid, so you'll never know if it's true. Whether or not to trust someone is something you have to imagine.”

Ayumi put on training gloves.

“I can't pretend to know how to label the lid, and I don't like trying to imagine what's inside the boxes of others. That's why I'm alone.”

There was a swishing sound.

It was the sound of a shock-absorbent life vest being fastened onto Ayumi's body.

“Am I cold?”

“I don't know.”

No.

Hazuki knew exactly what Ayumi was saying.

But Hazuki was unable to carry herself like Ayumi. She didn't think it was about strength or weakness.

Hazuki's previous counselor, the one before Fuwa, had told her she needed to be stronger.

The counselor had told her not to depend so much on others, to be independent. Told her that at the end of the day, everyone was alone, so all one could do was protect oneself, the strong female counselor said.

She thought that sounded correct.

But five years ago, that counselor had committed suicide.

She didn't think the counselor was wrong. Someone so good at protecting herself from the outside was probably able to destroy herself too.

Her foster father would say that no human could live alone.

He'd say that people always helped each other, rescued one another, and somehow made do. So he taught her to be nice to strangers. Hazuki thought that sounded correct. It was always other people doing the things she needed in life. Hazuki could only exist in that setup. She would also have to one day take on a caregiver role. She knew that without a doubt. She accepted that way of thinking without consequence.

But.

At the end of the day, was it that a person is always alone, or unable to live alone?

These statements were diametrically opposed. Hazuki knew that. She accepted them without contradiction.

Usually this didn't bother her. It was not a nuisance. But thinking about it for any amount of time made it all confusing. Whatever was correct, whatever was incorrect, she felt like a failure in life for not picking a single sentiment. Then she was unsure several times.

There was no way she should know.

“Forgive them,” Fuwa had said.

The counselor.

The counselor had no way of knowing how kids like them thought.

“You don't know yourself, do you? It's pointless to try to know. Even I don't know. So just forgive them.”

Forgive them.

That was right.

That was what Fuwa had said.

People can't live alone, can't survive alone, that's true. But everybody's alone in the end. That's true too. You're not wrong about either.
But I don't think you need to go out of your way to be strong. I say those guys who tell you to be number one or give it your all, or not to lose…can all scram
.

It's because humans kill themselves over ratings and whether they've won or lost at something that they've become useless. Those things shouldn't matter…

What's wrong with me.

What.

What's wrong?

That was what Hazuki had said. She remembered everything Fuwa had said clearly now.

It made her slightly happier.

She had thought counseling was just a sham, but it really worked.

“I bet you're hungry,” Ayumi said.

“I'm thirsty,” Hazuki said. Ayumi handed her a water pack.

“Haven't you eaten anything, Makino?”

“I ate, but didn't finish.”

It was true. Before getting the message from her father she had had some soup.

Her throat felt like it was being painted over. She choked up a bit.

“You should eat.”

Ayumi brought some junk food over to Hazuki. “You'll get weak unless you eat. You won't have to be attacked if you die of illness.”

This was true. She did as Ayumi suggested and put the synthetic food in her mouth, chewed deliberately, then swallowed. She wasn't hungry to begin with, but the food felt like it was sticking to her.