Chapter 5 : May IV

May 25 (M)

1st Period  - English

2nd Period - Social Studies

1st Period - Math

May 26 (Tu)

1st Period  - Science

2nd Period - Language Arts

It was the end of May—which usually meant midterm exams at school. They were spread over two days next week, Monday and Tuesday, and only for the five major subjects.

Caught up in the scramble of moving, hospitalization, and switching schools, some part of my mind had been numbed to this most mundane of events. This made me realize that.

About two weeks had passed since I started school here, and my initial nervousness had eased considerably. But I still hadn't completely adjusted to the new group to which I now belonged. There were a few people I could chat or joke around with, and the pace, I guess, or the rhythms of this school had slowly soaked in, although they were hugely different from my old school. At this rate, I even felt as though I could probably make it to March next year without too much hassle. But then…

In the midst of it all, still, there was something that nagged at me.

The alienness that surrounded the existence of Mei Misaki, that resisted all attempts to unambiguously grasp its nature. Like a single, relentlessly echoing discordant note in the peaceful, inoffensive melody that was daily life at this school.

"When midterms are over, it'll be straight into a week of guidance counseling," Teshigawara moaned and ground his hands in his bleached hair. "The whole time, I'm gonna have to talk to the teachers all seriously about it, too. It's gonna be total misery."

"You'll be fine," Kazami, who was with him, flippantly replied. "Over ninety-five percent of people get into high school nowadays. Don't worry, I'm sure there's a school you can get into, too."

"That's supposed to cheer me up?"

"That's how I meant it."

"You're saying I'm stupid."

"I told you, I'm not."

"Hmph. Well, in any case, our old ties are only gonna last until graduation, I guess. I wish you all the best."

Teshigawara was waving at the "honor-roll-esque" boy he'd known since childhood, as if bidding him farewell for the rest of their lives. Then he looked at me.

"What are you gonna do for high school, Sakaki? You going back to Tokyo?"

"Yeah. My dad's coming back from India next spring and all."

"Some private school?" Kazami asked.

"Yeah, probably."

"Must be nice being a college professor's kid. Wish I could go to high school in Tokyo."

Teshigawara was needling like always, but his tone was frank and didn't sound sarcastic for once, so it wasn't unpleasant.

"You probably get a free ride to college with your dad's massive connections, huh, Sakaki?"

"It doesn't work like that," I countered immediately, but his taunt wasn't entirely off the mark. After all…

The director of K*** Middle School, where I'd gone in Tokyo, had gone to the same college and been in the same research department as my dad, who'd had a mentor/underclassman relationship with him, on top of being close friends. So, given that, when I'd had to transfer, they'd made special arrangements predicated on my returning to Tokyo next year. Which means that even though I'm in a public school out here for a year, when it's time for my high school exams, I'll be able to take the tests to move up internally, from K*** Middle School to K*** High School. So I was told.

I had zero intention of telling anyone this. Because there's no way anyone would think it was very funny if they found out…

This was after school on Wednesday, May 20.

After sixth period ended, we'd somehow ended up leaving the classroom together and were walking down the hall side by side. It was raining outside, just as it had been all day.

"That reminds me. How do you guys do your school trip here?"

When I asked that, Teshigawara frowned. "Seriously? We went last year. To Tokyo. I went up Tokyo Tower for the first time on that trip. We went to Odaiba, too. You ever done that, Sakaki? Gone up Tokyo Tower?"

I hadn't, but…

"Last year? But isn't it usually third-years who go on school trips?"

"At North Yomi, we go in the fall of second year. I heard the third-years used to go sometime in May a long time ago, though."

"Used to?"

"Uh…yeah. Right, Kazami?"

"Uh, right. That's what they say."

For some reason, I felt a faint reluctance in their reaction. I pretended nothing had happened and asked, "Why did they change it to second year?"

"How should I know? That was a long time ago." Teshigawara's response was too rough. "They probably had their reasons."

"They probably also wanted to be considerate and do it before people had to start worrying about exams," Kazami replied. He stopped walking, took off his glasses, and started to clean the lenses.

"Huh. I didn't know public school was like that."

I stopped walking when Kazami did and went over to a window in the hall to look out. We were on the third floor. The rain was falling in a sprinkle now; you couldn't even see it unless you squinted, and more than half of the students walking through the schoolyard weren't using umbrellas.

I don't hate the rain.

I was reminded of what Mei had said, whatever day that was.

My favorite is the cold rain in the middle of winter. The moment it changes to snow.

I hadn't seen her yesterday or today. She'd been here on Monday, but I hadn't been able to find a chance to really talk to her. Maybe because I was strangely overthinking how we'd run into each other in the doll gallery in Misaki last week. Thinking about every last word she'd said that day. Every little movement she'd made. Every single element of her behavior…

And when she'd told me that "the story of the Misaki twenty-six years ago" was "kind of like a prologue," that had really stuck with me. I was pretty much convinced this was another one of the "Seven Mysteries," but still. "There's more." What was the ghost story that came after that?

Speaking of which, the week before last, hadn't Teshigawara mentioned something about "the curse of Class 3" after art class?

"Hey."

I tried to maintain a casual air as I broached the subject with these guys.

"Do you guys know the story of the third-year Class 3 from twenty-six years ago?"

That same instant, Kazami and Teshigawara both reacted with bald shock. Their faces seemed to go white in a second.

"C-c'mon, Sakaki…I thought you didn't believe in stories like that?"

"Where did you…who told you that?"

After a moment's thought, I decided not to bring Mei's name up.

"I just heard a rumor."

When I told them that, Kazami pressed in on me, his face serious. "How much did you hear?"

"What? Just the intro, I guess."

Their hypersensitive reactions had been way more than I'd expected, and I faltered.

"I heard there was a popular student in third-year Class 3 twenty-six years ago and that they died suddenly…That's about it."

"So just the first year, then," Kazami murmured, looking over at Teshigawara. Teshigawara pursed his lips, conflicted.

"What's going on? You three look so serious."

A voice interrupted. It was Ms. Mikami, who happened to be passing by just then. Yukari Sakuragi was tagging along beside her, I guess getting her advice on something.

"Oh. Uh, well, you know…"

Talking to Ms. Mikami face-to-face in a situation like this was something I was still not used to. I was terrible at it. As I fumbled for a response, Kazami took a step toward the teacher, as if to silence me. Then he theatrically lowered his voice and told her, "Sakakibara says he heard a rumor…about the year when it started."

"I see."

Ms. Mikami nodded slowly, then tilted her head to one side. Her reaction, too, seemed somehow odd for this situation. As for Sakuragi, she clearly couldn't control her shock when she heard that, either, just like Kazami and Teshigawara.

"That's a difficult issue…" Without so much as a glance in my direction. A deeply thoughtful look on her face, the first I had ever seen like it on her. Her voice smothered, discernible only in snatches, Ms. Mikami murmured, "…not sure. But…as little as you can…now we really…okay? Let's keep an eye on…"

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

"Do you remember twenty-six years ago, Grandma?" I asked my grandmother immediately after getting home from school that day.

She was with my grandfather, sitting together in wicker chairs on the porch and looking out at the garden after the long rain. She didn't even have time to finish saying "Welcome home" before she was blinking at the question tossed at her from her grandchild.

"Eh? That's quite a while ago. Twenty-six years ago, you said?"

"Yeah. My mom was around my age. I think she was in her third year at North Yomi."

"When Ritsuko was in her third year of middle school…"

My grandmother rested a hand against her cheek and leaned against the armrest of her chair.

"Oh, yes. The head teacher for her class was a handsome young man…He taught social studies and supervised the theater club or something along those lines. He was quite the fired-up educator. I believe the students thought well of him."

She pieced her story together slowly, her eyes narrowed, as if she were gazing at something far off in the distance. Beside her, my grandfather nodded his head mechanically.

"Which class was my mom in when she was a third-year?"

"Which class? Oh, my."

My grandmother cast a sideways glance at my grandfather, and then let out a low, soft sigh at the sight of him still nodding his head so mechanically.

"In her third year, let's see, she would have been in Class 2 or 3…Yes, I think it was Class 3."

No way. Her reply left me speechless; I just felt weird. It wasn't acceptance. It wasn't surprise, either, and it wasn't as extreme as fear. But I felt as if I had suddenly spotted a huge black pit, with no bottom to be seen, right where I'd been about to step.

"Third-year Class 3? You're sure?"

"When you say that, I don't feel so sure anymore."

My grandfather was bobbing his head in time to my grandmother's voice.

"Do you still have her yearbook?"

"I don't think we'd have that here. If there is one, I would imagine it's at your father's house. When she got married, I think she took all that sort of thing with her."

"Oh."

I wondered if my father still had stuff like that at home. At least, I never remembered being shown any of it.

"So then, Grandma." I continued with my questions. "Twenty-six years ago, when my mom was in third year, in Class 3, did a kid in her class die in an accident or anything like that?"

"An accident? With one of the children in her class…?"

My grandmother looked over to check on my grandfather once again; then her eyes sought refuge in the garden. Finally she let out a slow sigh.

"I seem to recall that there was, now that you mention it," she answered as if to herself, half in reflection. "I can't remember what sort of an accident it was, though. What a good child. It was terrible, when that happened…"

"What was the kid's name?" I was more aggressive than I meant to be. "Was it Misaki?"

"…I really don't know."

Once again, my grandmother's gaze fled anxiously to the garden.

"Misaki. Misaki," My grandfather murmured in his age-wracked voice.

"Good morning. Good morning." The mynah bird, Ray, had been well behaved up till then, but now she suddenly spoke up in her shrill voice, startling me. "Good morning, Ray. Good morning."

"I suppose Reiko would remember much better than I do," my grandmother said.

"But Reiko was only three or four years old back then, wasn't she?"

She must have been, considering the age difference between the two sisters. Then my grandmother's expression abruptly shifted into a confident cast and she nodded deeply to herself. "Yes, yes. Ritsuko was taking her high school entrance exams. I was still looking after Reiko. That was a tough year! Grandpa was all work-work-work and never helped out at all."

My grandmother fixed a scrutinizing eye on my grandfather. "Isn't that right?" His lips were moving, like a drawstring purse, in pinched mumbles.

"Why? Why?" Ray asked in her high-pitched voice. "Why? Ray, why?"

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

It was pretty late at night when Reiko came home. She'd had dinner out. She looked as if she'd had a good amount of alcohol with it. I recognized the smell and her eyes were a little bloodshot, too.

"You think you're going to ace the midterms next week?"

After collapsing onto the sofa in the living room, she seemed to have noticed that I was in the room with her and so turned this sudden question on me. She sounded as if she was slurring her words ever so slightly. She wasn't all the way to "drunk," but this was the first time I'd seen Reiko even this bad.

"No way." My confusion brought out an honest answer. "I'm still studying for them, as much as I have to."

"Well, excuse me."

She chortled softly, then drained the glass of cool water my grandmother had brought her. As I watched her, all at once I—

I pictured how my dead mother must have had alcohol and gotten drunk like this long ago, too. The thought sent a rush through my heart and, in the same moment, I felt my chest squeezing tighter.

"Ah-h-h, today wiped me out."

Reiko stretched out grandiosely from her seat on the couch. She turned her eyes, almost wistful, on me.

"It's tough being an adult. All these people wanting to spend time with you, holding you back. And then…"

"How are you, Reiko?" My grandmother walked over, her head cocked, looking worried. "You don't usually get like this."

"That's it for tonight. It's bed for me. I'll shower after I get up tomorrow. Good night."

Reiko was getting unsteadily to her feet, but I screwed up my courage and called out to stop her. I needed to find out what had happened twenty-six years ago as soon as I could.

"…You know the story, don't you, Reiko? About what happened twenty-six years ago?"

She'd just lifted herself from the sofa, but now fell heavily back onto it.

"Yeah. They've told that story forever."

"Is it one of the 'Seven Mysteries'?"

"This is on a different level."

"Did you find out about it after you started middle school, too, Reiko?"

"Yup. Not from any particular person, though, just from rumors."

"When my mom was in her third year at middle school, she was in the Class 3 from the story. Did you know about that?"

"…After." Reiko brushed her bangs away from her face and slowly leaned back to stare at the ceiling. "Ritsuko told me about that later. But…"

"What's the rest of the story?"

Riding my momentum, I peppered her with questions, hoping. But that made Reiko's face harden and she quickly buttoned up. A long moment later, she said, "I don't know that, Koichi."

Her voice was several pitches lower.

"You do know, Reiko."

She said nothing.

"Reiko, c'm—"

"People have added a lot of embellishments to that story."

I heard a sigh and turned around to find my grandmother sitting at the dining room table, her hands covering her face. It was a pose that suggested she had been struggling not to see or hear our conversation.

"Maybe it would be best if you don't think about it for now," Reiko said at last. She stood up, stretched her back, then looked straight at me. She'd gone back to her usual relaxed tone that I knew so well. "There's a time for finding out about some things. And maybe once you miss your chance, sometimes you're better off not knowing. At least, until the next chance comes along."

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

The next day, Thursday, I didn't see Mei Misaki all day.

Exams were coming up soon…Was she all right?

I didn't know how good Mei was at school or how her grades were. In fact, I had never once seen her called on in class to read from the book or solve a problem. But more importantly, if she kept being out all the time, her attendance might not be good enough to graduate.

Though I had a feeling that if I expressed that concern to her, she would probably snap back, "Is that your business?"

I considered trying to get in touch with her. But then I realized that I still hadn't received a class list or anything like that since transferring here. So there was no way for me to find out her phone number or where she lived. Though I had to admit, that would be easy enough to find out if I really wanted to…

She probably lived near that doll shop—I mean, the doll gallery. And she probably went over there occasionally to look at the dolls, like she had that day. Yes. I was convinced of it.

What are her parents like? I wondered.

Does she have a close friend somewhere?

How did her left eye, the one she kept behind that eye patch, get that way? Maybe she just wasn't that sturdy, physically. There were reasons to think so. That could be why she always sat out of gym, and why she was out of school so much…Ah, but maybe…

…And on, and on.

I continued to rack my brain, but I was the only one in the class doing it—I never saw anything to suggest otherwise. Although I suppose nothing was going to come of my ruminations right now anyway…

In the midst of all this—

After lunch, when we were heading to Building Zero—where the art studio was—for fifth-period art class, I casually turned and looked up at the roof of the school building and spotted her.

It was almost exactly like that time I'd been sitting out of gym class, in the shade of a tree by the field, on my first day at school two weeks ago. A figure standing alone, right behind the iron railing that circled the roof.

I was heading over with Mochizuki, the Munch aficionado, but all I told him was "Give me a second" before I left him behind and ran back into the iron-ribbed school building we had just come out of—Building C. I sprinted up the stairs and pushed open the cream-colored steel door leading to the roof without a moment's hesitation.

But just then—

As it happened, I had slipped my cell phone into an inside pocket on my school uniform that day, and it started vibrating, groaning dully. What the…? Who could that be? At this precise moment? Why would anyone…?

I burst through the door and scanned the area for Mei as I pulled out my phone and put it to my ear. It was Teshigawara calling.

"You okay?"

"What? Why are you calling me?"

"I'm calling 'cause I thought you might be in trouble. Akazawa's pretty wound up. She might start having some kind of hysterical episode."

"Meaning what? Why does Akazawa care?"

"Look, Sakaki…"

Hhshssshhshshh…Hissing obscured his voice in a sandstorm of noise. I didn't think the two things were related, but just then a fierce wind gusted across the roof, howling.

"…Okay? I'm not trying to give you a hard time here."

I could barely make out Teshigawara's voice, surfacing between the sound of the wind and the interference.

"Got it, Sakaki? Quit paying attention to things that aren't there. It's dangerous."

…What?

What was he saying?

"Plus…You listening? Hey, Sakaki!"

"Yeah."

"That story you were talking about yesterday, from twenty-six years ago…Is that bothering you?"

"I mean…"

"I talked to someone about it after that. Once we get to June, I'll tell you about it. So for the rest of this month, could you…"

Hshssshhshshh, kksshhkkshhkk…The interference got ten times worse and the call dropped with a bztt.

What had that been about? I could hardly understand what was happening. I was more than a little irritated, so I turned my phone off and shoved it back into my pocket so he couldn't reach me even if he called back. My eyes swept every corner of the roof where the wind still blustered fiercely…

But there was no one there.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

The next day, Mei showed up in the classroom, as normal.

However, I wasn't able to say a single word to her. It wasn't that Teshigawara's call the day before had me worried. No, I don't think so. It was just that somehow, in her silence, she seemed to be denying me any contact.

I hadn't said a word to Teshigawara, either, after that. There was so much I wanted to get out of him, but—and maybe he was avoiding that questioning—he never came near me. Seriously, what was going on here?

Tomorrow was the fourth Saturday of the month, so there was no school again. I had an outpatient appointment at the municipal hospital, but there hadn't been any major changes in my condition, so I was considering canceling it and rescheduling for next week. I doubt my grandmother would nag much if I did that. Midterms were starting first thing next week, too. The best thing to do was probably to get some studying in. I kind of did think I'd ace the exams, but to be honest, I'm a pretty big chicken…or maybe just an enormously serious student.

…And so.

Fighting back the desire to check out the doll gallery in the town of Misaki again, I spent the weekend nights secluded at home and didn't go anywhere.

I got two calls on my cell phone.

The first was from a faraway Hindu nation.

Like last time, my father, Yosuke, kept exclaiming, "Sure is hot here!" but basically he was checking up on me: "Have you been all right since then?" When I told him that midterms were coming up soon, he came back with "Don't stress yourself too much over them." Considering I was totally incapable of not stressing over them, though, that advice made me wonder whether this man understood his son's personality at all.

The next person who called me caught me a little by surprise. It was Ms. Mizuno, from the municipal hospital.

"Staying healthy?"

Since that was the first thing she said, I knew who it was right away. At the same time, a faint nervousness hit me.

"You remember that thing from before—I guess it was two weeks ago now—about that girl? The one who passed away at the end of April, in the inpatient ward?"

"Yes, of course."

"I kept thinking about her after we talked, and I checked into something. When I did, I found out her name really was Misaki, not Masaki."

"Was Misaki her last name? Or—?"

"No, it was her first name."

So it wasn't the same as Mei Misaki. Which meant what?

"How did she write it?"

"With the characters for 'future' and 'flowers blooming'—to make Misaki."

"Misaki…"

"Her last name was Fujioka."

Misaki Fujioka, eh?

I couldn't help falling into deep thought over it.

What made Misaki Fujioka "half my body" to Mei Misaki? What could it be?

"Why did you want to know about her?" Ms. Mizuno asked me. "You did promise you'd tell me."

"Oh, uh…about that."

"You don't have to tell me right this second. But sometime."

"Okay."

"By the way, Horror Boy. What are you reading recently?"

And so she dropped the talk about promises just like that. As I was responding, "Oh, uh," my eyes fell to the book right next to me. "Um, volume two of the paperback version of Lovecraft: the Complete Works."

"Oho," I heard her say in her normal tone. "How very refined of you! Aren't you about to start midterms at your middle school?"

"You know, it's just for breaks in studying," I replied. But considering the amount of time I spent on each, the truth was exactly the opposite: I was studying a little bit during breaks in reading the book.

"You're so responsible, Horror Boy," Ms. Mizuno said, sounding amused. "I wish my little brother would learn from your example. He doesn't care about reading at all, let alone horror. His head's only got room for basketball. We usually don't have anything to talk about, even though we're brother and sister."

"You have a little brother?"

"Two of them. The basketball boy is in the same exact school year as you."

"Wow, I didn't know that."

"My other brother's a second-year in high school, but he's another musclehead obsessed with exercise. I don't know if he's ever read anything that wasn't a comic book. Quite a problem, no?"

"I guess."

I had a feeling that the fifteen-year-old reading the Cthulhu mythology alone in his room on the weekend was more of a problem, but…whatever, I guess.

Actually—that made me realize something.

Wasn't there a boy in my class named Mizuno? He was tall and really tan and had a sporty look. I'd never talked to him, but could he be Ms. Mizuno's youngest brother?

It was a small town. This kind of coincidence might not be so unusual.

"Um, Ms. Mizuno…did you go to North Yomi for middle school, too?" I posed the question to her, suddenly concerned.

"I was at South Middle," she replied. "My house is right on the border between the two schools, so depending on what year it is, we go to north or south. So my first brother and I went to South Middle, and my youngest brother is going to North Middle."

…I see.

Then Ms. Mizuno probably wouldn't know about the Misaki from twenty-six years ago.

I felt relieved somehow, and the two of us went on with our frivolous conversation about our shared hobby.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

May 26, Tuesday.

The second day of first-semester midterm exams.

Rain had been falling steadily since the night before, threatening the start of the rainy season. I thought it was pretty unusual for a school nowadays (and this was my first experience of it), but North Yomi didn't require indoor-only shoes. Except for the gymnasium, everyone kept their outside shoes on, even inside the school building. So on days like this when it rained, the floors in the hall and the classrooms became a mess of wet footprints.

In second period, the proctor for the language arts exam, our last subject, was Mr. Kubodera.

He passed out the exam papers; then, with the directive, "All right, you may start," the room fell silent. The sound of mechanical pencils tracing over paper was enhanced by an occasional restrained cough or a low sigh. I may have changed schools, but the atmosphere during a test was the same everywhere.

After about thirty minutes had passed since the start of the test, a student got up from their desk and left the classroom. I reacted to the sound and to some impression they'd made, and reflexively I looked over toward the window. Mei wasn't there. Geez, she finished early and left again, huh?

After a bit of internal debate, I put my answer sheet facedown on my desk and got up from my chair. I started to leave the room silently, when—

"Finished already, Sakakibara?"

Mr. Kubodera stopped me.

I lowered my voice a shade. "Yes. So I was going to…"

"Don't you think you should use the rest of the time to check over your answers?"

"No. That's okay."

I was conscious of a low buzzing that had sprung up here and there in the room as I answered.

"I'm confident in my answers. May I leave?"

I looked over at the door Mei had so recently opened and shut. Mr. Kubodera was at a loss for a moment, but finally he lowered his gaze. "I suppose so. You may leave the room, but don't go home. Just wait quietly somewhere. We're having an unscheduled homeroom after this."

The buzzing spread through the whole classroom. I could feel everyone's eyes flicking toward me to an uncomfortable degree.

They were probably thinking I was a snob. And if they did, they did: there was nothing I could do about it. And yet…

I couldn't help cocking my head to one side and wondering why.

We'd done exactly the same thing, so why had it turned out this way for me, but no one said anything to Mei? Wasn't that pretty odd? Now it really did seem as though something was…

The second I came out of the classroom, I saw Mei standing beside a window in the hallway. The window was open and a little bit of rain was blowing in. She was staring outside blankly, not paying it the least attention.

"You always finish early," I said, walking over to her.

"Do I?" Mei replied without turning around.

"Both days, you left the room halfway through the test time for all of the subjects."

"Are you saying you came to keep me company for the last one?"

"No…I'm good at language arts."

"Huh. You could answer those questions, huh?"

"What do you mean?"

"Where you have to summarize whatever in a certain number of words, or where it asks what the author's objective was."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess so."

"I suck at those. I hate them. I'd much rather do math or science. Those only have one clear answer."

Ah, yeah. I could see what she was getting at.

"So you just wrote down whatever and left?"

"Yeah."

"Is that…okay?"

"Yeah, I don't care."

"Uh, but what about…"

I started to say something, but I decided to abandon the subject.

Leading the way, I moved over to the top of the stairs adjacent to the eastern side of the classroom—called the "East Stair." Mei opened the window there, too. The breeze that blew in, sprinkled with drops of rain, played through her black bobbed haircut.

"Her name was Misaki Fujioka, wasn't it? The girl who died at the hospital that day."

I boldly presented the information I'd gotten from Ms. Mizuno over the weekend. Her eyes never turned from the window, but Mei's shoulders trembled ever so slightly—or seemed to.

"Why her?"

"Fujioka Misaki…," Mei began to speak softly. "Misaki Fujioka was my…cousin. A long time ago, we were together more and she was more than that."

"More than that?"

I had trouble understanding what she meant. But…was that why she was her "half her body"?

"That story you told me two weeks ago."

I changed the subject yet again.

"About the third-year Class 3 twenty-six years ago. How does the rest of it go? The ghost story part?"

"Did you try asking someone?" she shot back. As I searched for some sort of response, Mei turned to face me and said, "No one would tell you?"

"Uh, no."

"Well, what can you do?"

That was all she said before clamming up again and turning back to the window.

Even if I asked her for the story now, she probably wouldn't tell me anything. That was the feeling I got. Reiko's words, that "there's a time for finding out about some things," came back to me with a strange weight.

"Um…look," I said, then took a deep breath, just as I had at the doll gallery. I walked up to stand beside Mei, who stood next to the window. "Look, I've wanted to ask you this for a while now. It's been bugging me ever since I transferred here."

I thought I saw her shoulders tremble slightly again. I pressed on.

"Why do they do that? Everyone in class, and even the teachers. It's like you're not…"

Without letting me finish my question, Mei replied in a murmur, "Because I don't exist."

Got it, Sakaki? Quit paying attention to things that aren't there.

"That doesn't…"

I took another deep breath.

It's dangerous.

"But that doesn't…"

"To them, I'm invisible. You're the only one who sees me, Sakakibara…what would you do then?"

Mei turned her face slowly toward me. A shadow of a smile flashed in her right eye, the one unobscured by the eye patch. Was it my imagination that made me see a tinge of loneliness there?

"No…that can't be true."

If I closed my eyes then, and opened them, say, three seconds later, would she have disappeared right in front of me? For a moment, such thoughts had control of me and I hastily shifted my gaze away to the world beyond the window. "It can't be true…"

That was when it happened. I heard the sound of someone bolting up the stairs.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

The footsteps were frantic, completely out of place in this situation, with the entire school wrapped up in test-taking. Even as I wondered what was going on, I saw who it was—a figure wearing a navy blue sweat suit.

It was Mr. Miyamoto, one of the gym teachers. I was still sitting out of gym classes, but I knew the name of the head teacher and what he looked like, at least.

Mr. Miyamoto came toward us and opened his mouth to say something, but in the end ran up to the Class 3 classroom without a word. Then he opened the door at the front of the classroom and called in, "Mr. Kubodera! Mr. Kubodera, could you come over here?"

After a moment, the language arts teacher—who was in the middle of supervising a test—stuck his head out from the classroom. "What's going on?"

His shoulders heaving with his ragged breathing, the gym teacher said, "Well." Where Mei and I were, I could just barely hear what he said.

"We just got the news…"

…And that was all I heard. He had lowered his voice partway through.

Mr. Kubodera's reaction when he heard Mr. Miyamoto's news, though, I could interpret clearly. As soon as he heard whatever it was, he became speechless and his face stiffened.

"I see," he replied solemnly, then went back into the room. Mr. Miyamoto looked up at the ceiling, his shoulders still heaving badly.

Finally—

The door Mr. Kubodera had shut was flung open and a student came flying out of the room.

It was the class representative, Yukari Sakuragi. She had her bag in her right hand. She looked to be in complete turmoil.

She shared a few brief words with Mr. Miyamoto, who stood near the door, then Sakuragi grabbed her umbrella from the stand outside the classroom. It was a beige stick umbrella. Then, her legs tangling, she started to run…

At first, she headed toward the East Stair. But then, who can say why, that impulse was checked and she seemed frozen in place. It seemed to happen the instant her eyes locked on us, standing by the windows in front of the staircase.

The next moment, she had spun around on her heel and started running down the hall in the opposite direction. It looked as though her right leg, which she told me she'd twisted after a fall, still hadn't healed completely. Her run was awkward, trying to favor it.

She ran off down the hallway that ran east to west and soon disappeared from my view. She'd gone down the West Stair on the other side of the building.

"I wonder what that was about." I turned back to Mei. "What do you…?"

Mei didn't react in the slightest. She stood frozen, her face ashen. I moved away from the window toward the sweat-suited gym teacher and tried asking him.

"Um, Mr. Miyamoto? What's going on with Sakuragi?"

"Huh? Oh…" Mr. Miyamoto looked at me with a grimace on his face, as if scowling at me. "Her family was in an accident. We just got an urgent message for her to go to the hospital right away."

I wasn't sure whether he was finished or not when it happened—there was some kind of violent sound and a short, shrill scream echoed up the hall.

What was that?

Immediately, I felt intensely unsettled.

What just happened?

I started running down the hall before I could give it much thought. As if I were chasing after Yukari Sakuragi, who had just run down this same hallway.

I bounded down the West Stair, the same she'd gone down, to the second floor. I didn't see her there. I started to run from the second floor down to the first…and instantly I saw it.

A bizarre, horrifying scene filled my vision.

At the bottom of the wet concrete staircase, at the landing between the second and first floors, was an open umbrella. A beige stick umbrella. The one Yukari Sakuragi had just taken out of the umbrella stand. And draped over the top of it, Sakuragi herself had fallen, facedown.

"Wh-what…"

Her head lay over the center of the open umbrella. Both of her legs were still two or three steps up from the bottom. Her hands were thrown out at different angles in front of her. Her bag had tumbled into a corner of the landing.

…What had happened?

What could have possibly…?

It was hard to comprehend at first sight. But right away, I could get a general idea.

In her upheaval after learning of her family's emergency, she had flown from the classroom in a scramble and her foot had slipped partway down the stairs between the first and second floors. The umbrella she'd had in her hand had flown out in front of her. The impact of hitting the ground had made it open, and it fell onto the landing. The metal spike at the top end had landed pointing exactly in her direction. And then…

She had radically lost her balance, and the force of her fall had brought her toppling right onto it. As if she'd been floating through the air. Unable to do so much as turn her head or put her hands up.

Sakuragi's body didn't move at all as she lay there. A nauseating red color was eating away at the beige of the open umbrella, spreading across it. That was blood. A huge amount of blood…

"Sakuragi…?" I called out to her, my voice shaking. My legs trembled as I climbed down the stairs.

Making my way fearfully down to the landing, my eyes fell on a new horror.

The tip of the umbrella had skewered Yukari Sakuragi's throat, crushing it, sinking all the way to the base. Profuse amounts of fresh blood gushed from the wound.

"How…"

I turned my eyes away, overwhelmed by the sight.

"How could this…?"

I heard a sudden fwump as Sakuragi's body rolled to one side. The shaft of the umbrella that had miraculously—no—that had, through balance born of an evil coincidence, so far supported her weight now snapped.

"Hey!"

A loud voice came from overhead.

"What happened? Is everyone all right?!"

It was Mr. Miyamoto. Behind him were other people, teachers who must have come out of the nearby classrooms.

"It's bad. Call an ambulance!" Mr. Miyamoto shouted as he dashed down the stairs. "And call the nurse's office right now. Urk—this is awful. How could something like this—hey, are you all right?"

I nodded, "Yes." That's what I meant to say, anyway, but all that came out of my mouth was a groan. A sharp pain lanced through my chest. Ah—this terrible pain, this is…

"I-I'm sorry."

Putting both hands to my chest, I fell up against a wall.

"I don't…feel so…"

"I'll handle this. Go to the bathroom," Mr. Miyamoto ordered me. I guess he mistook this as me fighting back the urge to puke.

I had started tottering up the stairs when I saw Mei in the hallway on the second floor. She was standing behind the teachers, looking intently down at us.

Her face was ashen to the point of death. Her right eye was wide to the point of popping. Like the doll inside the black coffin in the basement display room at "Blue Eyes Empty to All, in the Twilight of Yomi," her slightly open lips seemed about to make some appeal…

For what?

What is it that you would ask?

Mere seconds later, when I'd made it back to the hall on the second floor, however, she was no longer there.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

The accident involving Yukari Sakuragi's family had been a car accident. The car her mother, Mieko, was riding in had crashed. Sakuragi's aunt was at the wheel, and her mother was riding in the passenger seat. The cause wasn't clear, but while driving down a two-lane road along an embankment on the Yomiyama River, the car had lost its brakes and crashed into a tree beside the road.

The car was totaled. Both women were in serious condition when they reached the hospital. Her mother's injuries, in particular, did not allow much optimism. That was when the urgent call had come to the school.

Mr. Miyamoto had passed the message to Mr. Kubodera, who had told Sakuragi to get to the hospital quickly. He'd decided that she would take her test some other day.

Her mother was treated, but to no effect, and she passed away that night. Her aunt had barely pulled through. But according to what I heard later, she was in a coma for more than a week after the accident.

Sakuragi herself, who had met with that unbelievable misfortune in the West Stair of Building C, was taken to the hospital by ambulance, but on the way there she passed away from the blood loss and shock. I found this out later, too, but she had just turned fifteen two days earlier.

That was how Yukari Sakuragi and her mother, Mieko, became "the deaths of May" for third-year Class 3 at Yomiyama North Middle School that year, in 1998.