Over ten years went by. I managed to get into a good art college, intending to pursue my plans on becoming a freelance artist. I heard eventually that the old school was closed down, though nothing else happened. Then, as if that had marked the beginning of the end, the town had slowly died. People drifted away, the remaining old people died, and it was soon an obscure little ghost town. The railway still ran there, there were properties for sale there, but no-one wanted to live there.
The five of us—Yukari, Rumiko, Souhei, Takahiro and myself—stayed roughly in contact with each other, though we did drift a little. Takahiro went overseas and seemed to get into competitive combat sports, Yukari and Rumiko just stopped communicating after a while, with Yukari becoming a doctor and Rumiko a model. Souhei ended up going into programming for a software outsourcing company, and kept in contact with me.
The announcement voice appeared overhead, starting me from a prolonged bout of reminiscence. “Yaso-Shujuki. Yaso-Shujuki.”
I was almost at Shujuki’s train station. We passed through a short tunnel, and the train’s harsh electric lights threw my face into relief against the window. It had been a week since I received the letter, asking me to come back to Shujuki. How old-fashioned it was in these days of emails and texts and tweets, getting a bit of ‘snail mail’. I had reminded me of who I was back then, that eager and somewhat plump twin-tailed girl with enthusiastic dreams and a big mouth.
The woman looking back at me was tall, rather thin, a thin and reserved mouth curving up into an ironic smile. Her hair was now in a single pigtail down the back, and she wore a black sweater top and plain trousers that could pass muster in the more casual kind of Japanese company. She worked as a freelance artist, and got good money for her work. Enough to live in a small, comfortable apartment in one of Osaka’s suburban wards. Not enough that she wanted to get married yet, she’d leave that for a little later when she could afford longer breaks.
I wondered how that commission I’d created for Square Enix was getting along? It should be almost there now, almost ready to assault the eyes of customers from gaming magazines across the country. It had been a big spread, and there were some rumours of offers coming from overseas. But the letter had chased all those thoughts from my mind. It had been an impossible letter, an unthinkable letter, a letter without rhyme of reason. It had been from Akira. Or at least, the writing on the outside, and the stuck-on message inside. A message to please come back to Shujuki High School on a certain date.
I did wonder. But at the same time, I wondered what was the worse that could happen in a place I knew so well? Even abandoned, what was there to fear? I kept telling myself that as I disembarked onto the platform and looked around me. The same little station, the same clear and clean air. Even the sound of my boots on the concrete evoked a fuzzy nostalgia. As I left the station, my overnight bag slung over my shoulder, I heard a car horn blare. Puzzled, I turned to look. Someone was getting out, a plump man in a suit with close-cropped hair that reminded me briefly of... But no, it was Souhei.
“Hi.” He waved. “Need a lift?”
I frowned. “Souhei? What are you doing here?”
“Probably the same thing you are. A letter that shouldn’t exist?”
I started, flushed. “Yes... Yes, I got a letter. In Akira’s handwriting.”
“Yeah, so did Rumiko. She contacted me out of the blue, wanted to know if it was some kind of trick.”
“Rumiko’s here too?”
“She rode down with me. I think Takahiro and Yukari are here.”
Goodness, a regular reunion. I got into the passenger seat, and looked round the town as we took the short drive from the station to the school. I was always expecting to see figures on the pavements, other cars, lights in the houses...
“The place looks dead.”
“No-one I know lives here anymore.” Souhei sighed. “Ever since poor Akira’s accident, the place just seemed to...die off. Not even the old folk wanted to stay.”
“You kept in contact?”
“As much as I could. A programmer’s life isn’t an easy one. What about you? How’s your art these days?”
“You’ll be seeing it in a couple of weeks... All over Japan.”
“Good for you. You know, regardless of the circumstances, I’m really looking forward to seeing the others.”
“Me too.”
There was the truth. The whole and honest truth. But I’d also wanted to see how the town had changed, and seeing it so utterly unchanged yet so completely dead was more than uncomfortable. It was terrifying.
We reached the gate of the school, which was...open? Why was the gate open? The others were waiting there, and even after ten years I recognised them. Though they had changed to fit with their ages and professions. Rumiko had on a fashionable outfit and a tactfully made-up face, and for whatever reason had dyed her hair a chestnut shade. Yukari looked what she was, the prim and proper business woman. Takahiro wore a tracksuit and chunky trainers, and wow he’d put on muscle in ten years. Not the bulging kind, but the sort you get by doing gymnastics and martial arts. He’d also grown his hair out into a short ponytail.
Takahiro came over and hugged me, and he smelled of overseas. “Great to see you again, Sai. Come on.”
I was led over to the others. Rumiko put on something like a stage smile and embraced me with that same glomping energy, though it felt like she was putting on a performance or something. Yukari was more reserved, but her handshake and formal greeting seemed to have more heart. Despite these odd sensations, I was glad to see all of them. They all seemed to have lived, just as I had, without letting Akira’s death weigh on them.
“So, why d’you all come here?”
“My question,” Rumiko seemed to be side-stepping the question, “is what this gate’s doing open. This place should be closed.”
Yukari looked hard at it. “Someone probably opened it before we came. And...that’s got me a little worried... Who’s that?”
We all turned as the new car drew up and a middle-aged man emerged. He wore casual clothes, his hair was unkept, and he looked almost weary, but I recognised him at once. I spoke before any of the others.
“Gouto-sensei?”
Gouto-sensei frowned. “Toshikiro?” He looked over all of us. “Suou, Ishin, Hishima, Taito... What are you all doing here?”
Rumiko countered with her own question, again seemingly avoiding something. “Come to that, what are you doing here?”
In reply, he pulled out a familiar-looking letter. That was it, no further point in trying to avoid the issue. We all produced ours as if on a signal. And then I sensed it. Turning abruptly, I saw it for the slightest moment, standing on top of the school building at the corner nearest where Hisawa-sensei and Akira had met their end. A woman in an all-black miko robe, with something there that made me sure she was looking directly at me.
Takahiro spoke. “Sai, what’s wrong?”
I started back to reality. “It’s...nothing. Thought I saw something.”
Rumiko spoke. “Geez, you think... Is there some grounds behind this place being haunted?”
Souhei looked at her. “H...haunted?”
Gouto-sensei spoke before Rumiko could answer. “It’s an old story. Apparently there used to be a lord’s castle in this area, with that shrine adjoining it. People round here used to say that Nobunaga Oda destroyed it during his campaigns.”
“But...” Yukari frowned, thinking it through. “I didn’t think Oda campaigned in this area.”
“Probably didn’t. It’s probably just a myth. So shall we go in? I found the place unlocked, and I went to get some supplies just in case.”
We all agreed in silence. Passing through that gate, I thought I saw vague ghosts of memories, odd echoes of those high school days when I’d walk through at the start and end of each day after the half-mile walk from my house. We approached as a body, almost as if each was afraid to get close alone. The front door of the school was open, and passing into the front hall we all saw it. A sign hung where a message board had once been, directing ‘visitors’ to Classroom 3-A. Our old classroom. Rumiko shuffled audibly.
“We’re...gonna be okay, right?”
“As long as we stay together, we should be.”
It was the best I could come up with. I ended up leading the way up those stairs. It felt almost naughty going up in my boots rather than changing into school shoes or sandals. But the place was so dilapidated that those feelings soon evaporated. There was no sign of vandalism, just a total abandonment that left me feeling cold and unwelcome in that place. Takahiro trotted up beside me as we reached the third floor and turned towards our classroom. He spoke quietly.
“No sign of anyone else. But...is it me or has the floor been swept.”
I looked, and replied with equal quiet. “It does look like someone brushed the place before we came, yes.”
“I see. Well...”
Without warning, he trotted up to the wall and performed some strange...parkour, I think? He seemed to skitter along the wall briefly. There was a giggle from Rumiko, and he smiled.
“Side effect of gymnastics. I got into free running. Gotta say, I’ve always wanted to do that here. And...my friends would probably not be happy. You’re not supposed to show off in parkour.”
I heard Gouto-sensei laugh, and saw Yukari sigh and shake her head. She always was the serious one. We entered Classroom 3-A with trepidation, and I saw reason to be worried. There were six chairs arranged there in a circle around a table, almost like some freaky student council meeting abandoned to time. I approached, looked round, but there was no indication of what to do next.
“So what now?”
Souhei’s question crystallised our actions. I pulled out my letter and opened its enclosure at last. For a second, I struggled to understand. Along the edge of the paper was what seemed to be a broken piece of text, an incomplete sentence. The others were also opening their enclosures, and Rumiko snorted.
“What the hell? It’s just a scribble?”
A thought struck me. “Bring them here. Let’s see what I can do.”
They all brought their pieces of paper, and my artist’s eye quickly saw the pattern. In a few seconds, I’d arranged them. Six pieces of paper with one sentence written across their overlapping faces.
‘Wash the blood from your hands, and say what you saw.’
There was a long pause as we all took the sentence in. Then Yukari snorted.
“Well that’s a poor prank to play. All this way for nothing.”
“Agreed.” Gouto-sensei reached into his bag. “You all look parched. Shall we have a drink before we go? Not the best circumstances, but...”
He left the sentence unfinished. For whatever reason, we all agreed. We each had a bottle of juice, just like the old days. I took the orange and sipped. I knew there would be another train leaving in a few hours, but maybe I could get a lift back to civilization with Souhei or Gouto-sensei. This place was beyond unsettling now with the sun sinking over it. It was...well...
“Whew, it must’ve been a day.” Rumiko had been talking to Souhei about her modelling. “I...feel kinda sleepy. I think I’ll need to use one of...these...chairs.”
She slumped into the chair, Souhei barely stopping her from sliding onto the floor. Then he also started to wobble.
“Oh boy... My head...”
Yukari frowned, looked around. “Everything...so fuzzy...”
Takahiro was leaning on the table, struggling to stay upright. I looked round, feeling my head growing dizzy and uncertain. Gouto-sensei was...leaving the room? What was happening. And... Oh no. There it was again, this time right in front of the teacher’s podium. The black-clothed miko, and this time I saw her face clearly. A cold face like a noh mask, with blood red eyes. Her mouth opened, and I heard words echoing in my ears.
“With these words, call me. Yami-yami-bake, Yami-yami-Lycoris, Yami-yami-yomi. Call when needed. I shall come. This record must be correct.”
I then slumped. My vision whirled together into a blurring mass, all sound dulled and faded, and I slumped to the floor.
No comments:
Post a Comment