Boogiepop Returns VS Imaginator Part 1 (4 page)

He glanced over at Kotoe's chest.

She had no 'flower.'

What she did have was a bountiful amount of leaves, which were the domain of kindness and warmth, and her stem and roots were equally secure. But there was no flower to be found.

Kotoe was a good girl.

She wasn't bad looking. Her parents owned several apartment buildings, and were obviously rich. There was no reason at all for her to be unhappy.

But deep in her heart, she wondered, 'Why have I never come across anything definitively radiant?’ Sometimes she would see a really ordinary, average person who was completely passionate about some insignificant thing. This would devastate her -- she would be terribly jealous of them.

But there was nothing she could do about it.

She 'lacked’ that passion, and she would never have it.

“Jin-niisan, you just need to chill.” Never in her wildest dreams able to guess what he was looking at, Kotoe tried using her usual hip slang to cheer him up. “You spend way too much time stressing over other people. You've gotta at least try to make things a little easier on yourself, you know.” She nodded, oddly forceful.

“Th-thanks. But now I don't know which of us is getting counseled,” Asukai grinned.

“Nothing is futile! There is always a path. . . even if it's towards something that doesn't exist yet,” she proclaimed.

“I’m. . . yeah, I guess,” Asukai nodded, but with no conviction. “I wish I could think that. . .”

“But that path may be a trifle. ..cruel. . . it might even go against all that this world deems just,” her voice was so certain; it seemed almost scornful.

“. . Huh?” Asukai looked up. That didn't sound like something Kotoe would say.

He froze.

The vision at her chest had vanished.

It had been there just a moment before, but now he could see nothing.

And her expression -- her mouth was closed in a straight line, her eyes alone sparkling, laughing --

“Wh-who are you?!” Asukai cried out, leaping to his feet.

“Relax.
I am only borrowing her body . . . temporarily
,” the girl with Kotoe's face whispered.

“Wh-what?!”

“This girl's psyche is
not capable of becoming my vessel,
” she said quietly. “I must leave her in a moment.”

“You weren't a delusion. . . you're a ghost?”

“No. . . not a ghost,” she said, standing to face him. “To be completely accurate, I am a 'hypothetical possibility given substance.’ But for your feeble mind, consider me 'a glimpse of the future.”'

She reached towards Asukai's forehead.

She stroked it gently with both hands.

“Asukai-sensei, don't you feel it's time you. . .
did
something?”

“About what?”

“The flaws found in human hearts.”

Her soft, gentle fingertips massaged Asukai's face, firmly.

He moaned. The sensation was sweet and hard to resist.

“What do you think your flaw is, Asukai-sensei?”

“. . . . . . . .?!”

“You lack a 'calling.'“ Her voice was peaceful, yet firm.

“. . . Eh?”

“Let me show you a little glimpse of the future.”

She pulled his face towards hers, arched her back, and placed her thin lips upon his.

Instantly,
something
opened in Asukai's head.

A torrent of images cascaded past him.

“Ah. . . aaauuughhhhhh!” he screamed, forcing her away.

She never flinched, simply staggered once and then stared back at him again.

“Hahh. . . hahh. . .” Asukai gasped for breath. “Wh-what was that. . . that spectacle?”

“Your 'calling,' Asukai-sensei.”

“L-like hell! I would never do something like
that
!”

“The choice is yours. But you are
capable of it.
Nothing will change the truth of that. The reason for your birth is there. . . and only
there
.”

“Shut up! What. . . what are you, some sort of demon?! I. . . I. . . he wheezed, unable to find the words.

“Am I tempting you? No. That's not my intent. It's up to you to decide.” Her eyes alone laughed. “But, Asukai-sensei, remember this. Birds do fall from the sky, and sometimes it does snow in April.”

“Get away!”

Asukai flung the contents of his stew bowl at her.

She made no effort to dodge, but simply stood there and took it.

A moment later there was a scream. “Ow! Wh-what the heck?!”

Asukai gasped.

Kotoe was back.

“A -- are you. . .”

“Why. . . why am I. . . ? Gross!!!” Kotoe said, confused; no idea what was going on. Her memories didn't match up.

Asukai wiped her face off with a towel, trying to keep his body from shaking.

(. . . What did she call herself? The Imaginator. . . ?)

***

He might well be going crazy, but that was no reason to skip work. Asukai was at the cram school again, speaking with yet another student.

“I can't do this anymore. It's not for me. Like, in the middle of the night, I can be taking notes. . . and my hands just start shaking,” the girl said, nodding to herself, over and over.

There was no stem in the girl's 'vision.' She had roots, but they connected directly into the leaves and base of the flower.

“You need a change,” he answered, but Asukai knew it was useless. This girl was afraid that nothing in her being was ever secure. No matter how often she tried something new, her anxiety would always be there. Whether she passed the exam or not, nothing would change.

“What should I do?”

“Take a break, do whatever you like. Or change the way you study. You've got a good memory don't you?”

People without stems were good at stuffing things in. They were unable to turn that knowledge and experience into anything, to nurture it or let it grow. They could put in as much as they liked, but it would just pile up, never changing, never rotting.

“I suppose so. . .”

“Then spend one week concentrating on solving equations. Halve the number of things to memorize.”

“Ah. . . b-but. . .” She hesitated. . . but with a clear goal placed in front of her, her eyes shone. Her type had no conscious goals of their own, so they tended to relax if you gave them one. “Will that work?”

“I'm sure you can do it. Your percentile's been going up,” Asukai replied. He wanted to add, 'that won't save you, though. . . ' but he let the words die in his throat. It was futile.

“Okay! I'll try it. Sensei, thank you so much!”

“You're the one who has to do the work.”

“No, it's because you really know how to help people. Everyone says so! Seems such a shame to waste that kind of talent on a cram school.”

“Hey, now.”

“Asukai-sensei, I think you were meant to do something much more important. Yeah, you probably were.”

“Hmm. . . who knows?”

“You are capable of it. Nothing will change the truth of that.”

“I just can't get into it,” the boy said, sullenly.

“Hmm. . . your first results were pretty good, but they haven't improved at all,” Asukai looked up from the boy's file, and checked the vision at his chest.

No leaves.

This type took no pleasure in life. Since his flower and stem were doing pretty well, he was fully capable of better things, but everything he tried dried up around him.

“I know I gotta do better. . .”

“Studying bores you, right?” Asukai said bluntly and to the point.

The boy nodded, wryly. “Basically.”

“You know why?” Asukai's tone changed, becoming sort of chummy.

'Nope.”

“'Cause it's boring. What other reason is there?” he grinned. This was all part of the performance.

“Well, shit, if you put it that way. . .” the boy said, grinning back. Anyone else would lose their motivation if their teacher talked to them like this, but with this type there was no risk of that.

“Look, I know it's tedious as hell. And you're expected to do whatever us teachers tell you to do. . . so how's that ever gonna be fun? All we're doing is just following some stupid rulebook anyway.”

“Ha ha ha!”

“When you get down to it, passing tests is a matter of understanding the system. You know why I can work part time here, right? It's not like I've got a teaching license or anything.”

“Well. . . you got experience, right?”

“Yep. Few years ago, just like you, I was trying to pass these exams. I kept hitting all these brick walls and I was just banging my head trying to figure out an easy way to pass. Now, I make a living passing on all those little tricks I figured out.”

“Ah ha! I get ya.”

“See? Studying has some use after all.”

“Not just for getting into college, you mean?”

“Exactly. These days, getting into a good college doesn't even mean that much. You only go because you have to go. Still, that's no reason to kill yourself studying. But if you look at it as training. . . I don't know what it is you want to be, but whatever it is, you're gonna have to develop a few tricks -- a few techniques. Think of all this as, like, a simulation. No, think of it like a game. There aren't that many other times in your life where society itself and all of the people around you will just up and support you, but this is one of those times. It gives you the freedom to experiment.”

Personally, Asukai just thought he was talking crap, but the boy sitting across from him was visibly happier.

“Never thought of it that way. ..”

“Yeah, just think of the test itself as just another chance to gather data and experiment.”

“Right. . .”

“But in that sense, you've got a little catching up to do. On these results, you'll end up in a second rate school. That'd suck, right? Waste of a good opportunity.”

This was a little logical sleight of hand, but the boy never noticed.

People with no leaves feel like they aren't connected to the world around them. No matter what they do, they can never feel peace of mind when they are around other people. To compensate, they pretty much lose themselves in methodology. They know all sorts of approaches to things and all sorts of tricks, but all they're doing is trying to make up for an inability to communicate with others.

Being nice to them, praising them. . . it's all useless. Staying firmly on a practical ground worked best.

But the end result of all of their tricks only served to drive them even further into isolation. Since nobody else needed these tricks, they couldn't understand how much work went into them. Those of the same type were especially cruel -- if they happened to be using different methodologies.

None of them would ever find an ‘ally.'

“Okay, I'll try it out.” Drawn along by Asukai's friendly manner, the boy was now completely comfortable.

“You've still got plenty of time,” Asukai nodded. He didn't dare add, 'But all your efforts and memories will never be appreciated by anyone else.’ That revelation would only be utterly futile.

“But, Sensei,” the boy asked. “What are you planning on doing when you get out of college?”

“Dunno. Probably try and make a living painting.”

“Seems like a waste, man. You ought to start your own business, do something big. Seriously.” His eyes were serious, no sense of the mocking that this type so often engaged in.

“Maybe.”

“You lack a 'calling.
'
”

“I keep having this dream over and over.”

“What kind?”

“Um, Sensei. . . have you ever heard the phrase 'Sometimes it snows in April'?”

“Uh. . . n-no, can't say that I have. W-why?”

“In the dream, someone -- l don't know who -- keeps saying that to me. When I hear those words, I just don't care about anything anymore. This stupid test, this ugly world -- they just don't matter to me. Not anymore.”

“. . . . . . . .”

“But whoever it is, they are a little too nice. . . and that's sort of scary. When I wake up, it feels like someone just threw a bucket of cold water in my face.
Brrr
.. . .”

“And after I have that dream, I can't do anything. I had one the day before the last practice test, and I couldn't figure out a single problem.”

“. . . . . . . .”

“Sensei, is there something wrong with me?”

“. . . . . . . .”

“Sensei? Uh, Asukai-sensei?”

“-- Ah! Oh, uh, hmm?”

“Something wrong?”

“Oh, no. It's nothing.”

***

When the last student left, Asukai tried several times to sketch
that face
.

Unfortunately, he couldn't draw it well enough, and he crumpled up all of his attempted pages and flung them into the corner of the counseling office, missing the wastebasket.

Afterwards, he knelt down to collect them all and wondered to himself, “What the hell am I doing. . . ?”

He sighed, balled up the failed sketches as tightly as he could, and buried them deep within the office wastebasket.

***

Several days passed like this, repeating the same answers over and over for an endless progression of identical worries, occasionally encountering the phrase “Sometimes it snows in April” among them.

Then one day, as he walked along the streets after work, he heard a groan from a back alley.

“Unh. . . unh. . . s -- somebody. . .” he heard, faintly.

“ . . . ?” He turned off the main road, heading towards the voice.

“Please. . . somebody. . .” It sounded like a girl's voice and in great pain, barely gasping out the words.

“Is somebody there?” Asukai called out. There was no answer.

He moved deeper into the alley, and found a girl slumped against the cul de sac.

“I -- Unhhhhhhhhh,” she groaned.

“What's the matter?” Asukai asked as he went over to her, and placed his hand upon her back.

Instantly, his hand was flung off.

The girl sprang up like a jack-in-the-box, launching herself towards him, and slamming his back against the wall. “Don't move,” she snarled, with sudden menace. There was a carving knife in her hand.

“You're. . .” Asukai looked at her face. She was very, very thin, like a skeleton. It was painful to look at her. Her hair was a brittle and matted mess, not at all that of a young girl.