Goth (30 page)

I never told Akagi, either … that he had seen you, not me. I couldn’t tell him.

I had been so blind. I had known nothing about my sister. Wrapped in the boy’s arms, listening to her monologue, I was overcome with shame.

I had been so sure she was filled with confidence I didn’t have. I thought she’d been bright, outgoing—a strong girl whom everyone loved. But the truth had been so very different …

I couldn’t even look at you … We’re so very much alike. I directed all my irritation at you, changing my hair and clothes so I would be less like you … because I knew how you felt about Akagi.

My sister had actually been locked in a constant struggle with her own fears and anxieties. Unable to tell me about Akagi, she’d clutched that secret to her heart. The lipstick in my pocket … she had used that to hide her own fears from the world around her.

I wished I’d noticed while she was alive. If I’d only known, I could’ve put my arms around her and assured her there was nothing to be nervous about.

His arms tightened. He was done warming up. He began to embrace my head tightly. My head was squeezed inside his arms. In the darkness, I felt less like I was about to die and more like I was wrapped in a loving embrace.

When my sister’s voice ended, my neck would be forcibly twisted. The arm tightening around my throat and twisting my head would put too much pressure on the bones in my neck, and they would snap. Somehow, I was sure he would time my death to that moment.

Even as I record my last words like this, I wish … I wish I’d told you all of this, months ago.

With his arm as my blindfold, I could heart my heartbeat getting louder. I could hear it pumping blood through my body as clearly as I could hear my sister’s voice.

I could feel his heartbeat too—feel it where his chest pressed against my back.

I felt a tightness in my chest, like I wanted to cry. I felt no hatred or anger toward him; he felt like something as inevitable as death itself.

My sister’s confession was almost over. I could tell from the tension in his arms and the strain in her voice.

I was glad I’d heard the tape.

“You knew you were going to kill me … that’s why you came to my house to get the tapes, so the police wouldn’t find them when I didn’t come home,” I said, careful not to talk over my sister. She had left me these words as the last thing before dying. It was my duty to hear every last word of it.

But I can’t turn back time. Natsumi … I did love you
.

“Natsumi,” the boy said, the arm around my neck loosening. The tension in his muscles slackened, weakened. I hadn’t expected this, and I was confused. “I’ve never been in your house.”

I couldn’t understand him at first. He hadn’t taken the tapes? Before I could ask, there was a sound at the entrance of the operating chamber.

Someone had stepped into the room.

His arms might have loosened, but they were still wrapped around my face, and I could see nothing. I couldn’t see the third person in the room. His arms were tight enough that I couldn’t move, either—all I could do was listen to this new set of footfalls.

“Who … ?” I gasped.

The footsteps came through the door, past the operating table where the boy and I were. I could hear them on the dusty linoleum floor.

The boy slowly unwrapped his arms from my head. I was free. I could see again—there were now three shadows on the wall in front of me.

I said a lot of things that made you sad … but none of it was your fault.

Not me, not the boy, but the third shadow bent over. I heard him press Stop. My sister’s voice vanished. The room was quiet again.

Still seated on the table, I turned my head. The boy was behind me, his back to me, looking at the back of the room. Beyond him, next to the wall, stood Itsuki.

Itsuki was just taking his finger off the tape deck’s button. “I took the tapes, Natsumi.”

I had assumed I would never hear his voice again. Why was he here? Was I imagining this? No, he was definitely real: The light was casting his shadow on the wall. He was no illusion.

“The hospital is so large that I had trouble finding you. If I hadn’t heard Hiroko’s voice, I might never have known where you two were.”

I remembered him calling that evening. I’d told him I was outside my school because he’d asked where I was. He’d been making sure I wouldn’t come home while he was in my room.

In the restaurant, I’d told him how my parents always forgot to lock the door.

That was how he’d gotten in so easily. And he’d found the cassette tapes with the sinister names. That explained what he was doing here. The end of the second tape had given the time and place.

“Kamiyama. Haven’t seen you in a while,” the boy behind me said, putting his hand on my left shoulder. His palm was very hot. Then he stepped away from the operating cable, facing Itsuki. The hand on my shoulder went with him. I couldn’t move the whole time. I just sat frozen, staring at Itsuki.

“Hello,” Itsuki said, addressing the boy by name, never once taking his eyes off him. From his profile, you would think he had forgotten I was even there.

They faced each other silently, standing on opposite sides of the room. The operating chamber filled with soundless tension. It was so quiet that my ears hurt.

I longed for my sister’s voice. Sitting on the table, I looked down at Itsuki’s feet.

The tape was still in the player.

I sent a signal to the fingers gripping the cold edge of the table, telling them to move. They seemed to be paralyzed, and they wouldn’t budge.

“You came here to save her?” the boy asked. His voice broke the silence, but it only seemed to add to the pressure, the overbearing tension in the air.

I told my muscles to move again, but my fingers, my legs—nothing responded to my will. My heart was beating quickly, but it was like the rest of me had been drugged.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and prayed.

Please move. Let me walk to that tape player
 … My fingers shuddered, shaking.

“Was I interrupting something?” Itsuki’s voice.

Now that my fingers were moving, they set off a chain reaction, and my arms and legs woke up as well. But my muscles were very tense. They were moving, but I couldn’t put any strength into them. Even so, I managed to fall over the bloodstained edge of the operating table onto the floor below. As I moved away from the table where my sister had died, I felt vaguely like I was alive.

My legs were shaking too much to stand. I crawled across the linoleum, all my weight on my arms, my legs dragging after me. All the dust on the floor ended up on me. Around the operating table, toward the tape deck next to Itsuki’s feet … Itsuki and the boy were still talking, but I could no longer hear any of it. Scrabbling like an insect across the floor, I thought of nothing but the tape.

A jagged fragment of concrete stabbed my arm as I put my weight on it, but I didn’t care.

The boy had described death as loss. He said I’d abandoned everything, choosing to die.

But I wasn’t dead yet. I hadn’t yet abandoned life. I had come to this abandoned building to get something back, to overcome that loss.

As I drew near the tape deck, I thought hard about my sister.

The light next to the tape deck blinded me. Itsuki’s feet moved, crossing in front of the light. His shadow passed over me, moving out of sight. I didn’t turn my head to follow him.

At last, I was close enough that I could reach out and touch the tape deck. I stretched myself out, my fingers brushing against it. I dragged it quickly to my breast and pressed Play, fingers trembling.

There was a whirr as it came to life again. My sister’s voice emerged from the wire mesh over the speaker. Not shaking the air—the vibrations of her voice went directly into my arms as they clutched the tape deck.

Natsumi, I was always worried about you. Every time I said something mean, I regretted it … I’m sorry I ever upset you
.

These last few years, we had never been friendly. We had lived like strangers in the same house. I had thought she hated me.

Perhaps leaving a message like this just makes things worse … I’m sure it does. I would be a mess listening to it. But I’m glad I could apologize, before … I mean, I would hate it if you could never smile when you thought about me.

I curled up on the floor, clutching the tape deck to me, listening to the voice of my beloved sister. In my arms was the same sister I had been so close to.

I’m lying here remembering everything we did together when we were kids
.

I closed my eyes, listening.

There was a big forest at the top of the hill …

I remembered what we had seen when we were little.

The darkness, the cold concrete walls … it all faded away, and I was standing on the asphalt road, bathed in sunlight.

The guardrail, the posts—they were all so big. I was wearing tiny children’s shoes, and the hill looked so steep. Houses on one side and nothing but the guardrail on the other, a great view of the town beyond it …

You remember walking up it, hand in hand?

I turned around, hearing a familiar child’s voice. My sister was standing there.

She wasn’t much taller than me, and everyone we met said we looked alike.

My sister took my hand in hers. She pointed to the top of the hill, suggesting we climb up there.

I was excited. I ran after her, pulled along by her hand. Warm sunlight left little shadows racing after us, our sneakers squeaking on the concrete as we headed for the tall trees at the top of the hill.

At the top of the hill we stepped into the forest, our sweat drying in the cool air. We walked between trees until we found a cliff with a beautiful view of the town below. We stood looking down, holding hands
.

I felt her tiny, warm hand in mine. Standing next to me, she looked at me and smiled, her canines flashing from the corners of her mouth.

There was a bird flying high above the town …

A white bird, its wings stretched all the way open. I had decided that bird must be living in the big river that flowed through town. Its wings never seemed to move at all, just drifting on the wind through the endless blue sky.

Natsumi, I’m going to die here, but you’re still alive. You’ll live on. Promise me you’ll smile—I won’t forgive you if you don’t. Goodbye, Natsumi …

Her voice faded away, to be heard no more. The sound of her breathing and the hiss of the tape vanished, as well. The speakers went silent—her confession was done. Through the clear plastic door, I could see the tape spinning in silence. A clear drop fell on it, a tear dripping off my cheek.

Silently, I whispered, “I’m so sorry … but thank you.”

It was so dark and quiet. I was in the empty hospital. But a moment ago, I had been with her, on that hill.

How long had I been lying there crying?

I was alone now, nothing around but the table and the light. No sign of either boy.

The light shone across the floor, illuminating only that area. I blinked, and I realized part of the floor was wet. There was a big puddle of blood on the floor—fresh blood, not dried. I prayed it didn’t belong to Itsuki.

I tried to stand, still clutching the tape deck. At first, my legs were too weak. I took my time and managed to stagger to my feet.

I left the room, walking unsteadily. I called Itsuki’s name. My voice echoed off the walls, vanishing into the depths of the darkness.

I waited for him at the hospital entrance. The quiet, cold air went right through my clothes, and I shivered, hunching my shoulders, crouching low in the darkness. When the sun finally rose, I was half-asleep. There was no sign of either Itsuki or the boy.

epilogue

“Oh, it’s not a big deal. I was playing with the dog and fell over,” I explained as Morino and I walked down the stairs, my bag in one hand.

It was December 4, after school, and we’d left the classroom together talking. As we passed the landing, Morino had pointed to the red line on my neck, asking about it.

“Oh? It was obviously trying to kill you.”

“The dog?”

“I’m sure of it,” she nodded with conviction.

It was, in fact, an injury I’d obtained the night before at the abandoned hospital.

I’d also acquired a number of bruises, but these were hidden beneath my uniform.

“By the way, I was gathering information for a scrapbook about Kitazawa Hiroko’s murder yesterday …”

Morino had received a fair amount of information from the person she’d met in the library. I’d asked who this person was, but she didn’t want to tell me. I’d considered following her and discovering who it was myself, but it no longer seemed to matter.

“You finish it?”

“Almost. All I’d need now is an interview with the killer to make it perfect.”

As we left the building and headed toward the school gates, Morino told me about how the case was a lot more grotesque than the police had announced. The sun was already setting, and a cold wind was blowing. Between the school and the gates was a wide road lined with trees. There were only a few students walking here. A white plastic bag drifted past us on the wind.

We left the gates, stepping out onto the street. Kitazawa Natsumi was standing in the convenience store across the street. She was standing at the magazine rack, and her eyes met mine.

I stopped in front of the store. Morino stopped with me.

In the shop, Kitazawa Natsumi put down the book she was holding, never once taking her eyes off me. She headed for the entrance and came outside.

There was a parking lot in front of the store, just large enough to hold a few cars.

She faced me across the parking lot, the pale florescent light from the store shining down on both of us.

I had killed someone the night before, while she lay clutching a tape recorder.

There had been a dull sound as the knife slid home, and then he’d been dead.

But I’d gone home without Kitazawa Natsumi, not feeling up to dealing with her. She hadn’t noticed the struggling going on around her, and it didn’t appear that she’d known which of us the blood belonged to until she'd seen me come out of the school gates.