Contents | Chapter 1
July 7, 1992 (Heisei 4) – Monday
As I was leaving my house, I thought of trying to phone her once more, and decided to do just that. On the last few tries, I’d only heard an incessant string of ring-back tones, and the person on the other end had not answered. I knew that she was pretending to be out, so I did not expect her to pick up the call.
Thus, you can imagine my surprise when the person I was calling, Tachiarai Machi, answered in just three rings. Without a greeting, she grumpily uttered one word in her trademark low voice.
“Yes?”
I moistened my lips.
“It’s Moriya.”
A small sigh drifted from the other end of the line.
“You never learn. It’s about that again, isn’t it?”
I nodded, but there was no way Tachiarai would be able to see that. Another sigh escaped her lips, turning into noise on my end. As if admonishing me, she enunciated each and every word with utmost clarity.
“…Didn’t I already give a clear reply? Then I’ll say it again: No.”
“I’m meeting with Shirakawa today. The two of us will talk about it.”
“Whether you meet in a group of two or three, do whatever you like. Haven’t I always said that I won’t get involved in this? I recommend that you do the same. You should forget about that girl already.”
There was no getting around to her. That was indeed the attitude she’d consistently taken regarding this incident. But Tachiarai was not like that last year, when we were still in high school. While curt, she’d welcomed that girl in her own way, spent time together, and sent her off with a smile. That was just one year ago.
I tightened my grip on the receiver.
Persuading her would be futile. I understood that to be true before dialing her number, but that didn’t mean that I should instantly give up.
“Today, we have the information Fumihara gathered. We’ll also be using my diary. We’ll check the sources against each other, Shirakawa will compile our findings, and that is how we’ll get the answer. If you’re there, we’ll definitely get it right. It won’t all be in vain.”
A brief silence fell, giving me a faint glimmer of hope.
But Tachiarai rejected my request in such a ready manner that it made me realize that she was simply shifting her receiver to a different hand.
“Listen, Moriya-kun, the reason why I’m not helping you is not that I don’t want to let my efforts go to waste. I just want to forget about her.”
“…”
“Really?” I muttered. Why would she say that she wants to forget? She shouldn’t have had any painful memories. But perhaps it was the fact that those memories were all pleasant that she was feeling so much pain now. In any case, she wouldn’t answer that question.
“I see.”
“I’m glad you understand.”
The voice on the other side softened ever so slightly.
“But if you’ve gathered all that information… you might be able to figure out what happened, Moriya-kun.”
“I’ll tell you if we do.”
“Don’t. I keep telling you, I want to forget.”
Without saying goodbye, Tachiarai hung up. The conversation played out as I expected it to, so I didn’t feel discouraged. In fact, it was probably good that we at least managed to talk.
I picked up the bag at my feet. In it was a diary recording events from the year before. I went out to the entranceway and put on my shoes. A rush of hot air greeted me as I opened the door, causing me to frown.
The sofa was way too soft, giving me a great deal of discomfort while sitting on it. The mild air-conditioning, the iced coffee that had ice cubes floating on the surface and the laughter that reached my ears all made me feel ill at ease.
Having overestimated my walking speed, I was a little late for the meeting, and Shirakawa had already set everything up. On the light gray table lay a scrapbook, some loose-leaf paper, magazines, as well as paperbacks and hardcovers of varying sizes. Looking down at the mountain of information that had been meticulously stacked up, I caught sight of Shirakawa.
Her bob cut that could only be said to resemble a kappa1 had several layers to it. Her bangs were trimmed in a light shaggy style, something that wouldn’t have been seen on her a while ago. The tank top with pale pink and white stripes and the black jeans she wore also didn’t fit her fashion sense, or at least that of the Shirakawa I knew. Even so, the warm aura she gave off with her rounded facial profile and sleepy-looking eyes had not changed. Her full name was Shirakawa Izuru. About half a year had passed since we last had a proper conversation, and her eyes were now dark and gloomy.
It was a small cafe. The manager himself came to our table to serve me some chilled water. It didn’t really matter, but I ordered an iced coffee, just like Shirakawa.
I spotted a brown envelope next to the mountain of reference materials, and a piece of letter paper that had been folded into three peeking out from it. The envelope was addressed to Shirakawa Izuru and Moriya Michiyuki. Shirakawa noticed me looking at it.
“That’s from Fumihara-kun. He says he’s sorry that he couldn’t come. It’s addressed to the two of us, so shall we read it?”
I shook my head. I still talked with Takehiko Fumihara over the phone every now and then, and had already heard enough about his opinions regarding this case. There was no need to read a letter at this point in time. Then again, it was quite amusing for Fumihara to actually include a letter when he was usually apathetic towards everything. For him, that could be said to be the utmost level of consideration. With that thought, I let out a small chuckle.
The documents on this table were all collected by Fumihara. Since he lived far away from this town, he’d packed all of them into a cardboard box and sent it here in place of his presence. We couldn’t really do much with the books, but I was grateful for the scrapbook. I was truly glad to have his assistance, aloof as it may be.
On the other hand…
“Machi’s not coming?”
I nodded.
“She kept pretending to be away, but I managed to talk with her over the phone today, though it was fruitless. She apparently wants to forget all about it.”
“I see…”
“Sendou’s a cold person, after all.”
I didn’t say that to criticize her. Tachiarai Machi, also known as Sendou, was jointly acknowledged to be such a person, so saying this now wouldn’t amount to condemnation or criticism. Yet Shirakawa came to her defense, looking down as she did so.
“Don’t say it like that. I don’t think Machi intended it to be that way…”
So what were her intentions? But I decided not to say that out aloud. Today’s meeting was not meant for talking about Tachiarai.
Shirakawa, Fumihara, Tachiarai and I have a common friend. She was here only for a short amount of time, but she left a vivid impression on us. Those memories of her were deeply rooted in our minds and would never fade. She’d introduced herself as Maja.
Condensation dripped down from the cup of iced coffee, dampening the coaster below. Shirakawa pushed that cup along with its coaster to the side of the table, then placed a Campus notebook in front of her, and picked up a ball-point pen with her well-shaped fingers. She opened the notebook, which still had its price tag stuck on, to its first page, and slowly started moving her pen. I wondered what she was writing, and understood when I saw the name of a country in her somewhat cursive handwriting. As expected, she wrote down six names, names of countries far, far away. Shirakawa looked down at the page.
“It’s one of these places, right?”
“I think so.”
“Maja returned to one of these places, right?”
It seemed that those murmurs were not directed at me. There was no doubt that Maja’s birthplace was among these six locations. Of these, only one was likely in no immediate danger, and the other five were more or less fraught with danger. There would be no problem if the country she returned to was safe, but there was a high chance she’d returned to a deathtrap. The letter she’d promised to send us once she got home had not yet arrived.
It wasn’t for long, but Shirakawa had shared a roof with Maja while she was here. Shirakawa being a tender-hearted person, it wasn’t unexpected for her worries to get the better of her. However, I had to make a strong statement.
“I don’t think you should be too invested in this.”
“Huh?”
“I understand your emotions, but you have to keep them in check.”
Instinctively crossing my arms, I also looked down at the country names written on the notebook.
“Like you, I’m concerned about Maja’s safety, but if we don’t focus on analyzing the information we’ve gathered today, our judgment will be impaired, and we definitely won’t feel better if the conclusion we come up with is incomplete. No matter what we use, be it deduction, induction or reduction2, our efforts will be meaningless if we aren’t objective about it.”
I wondered if I was too harsh there, but to my surprise, Shirakawa meekly nodded.
“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
She then added.
“…But I’m not confident. I mean, we’re not talking about a stranger, but about Maja. Can you approach this objectively, Moriya-kun?”
I couldn’t answer in the affirmative. All I could manage was, “I’ll try my best.”
As if having changed her mindset, Shirakawa nodded vigorously.
“So, Moriya-kun, you brought it, right?”
I nodded, and retrieved for the notebook in my bag. Like the new notebook on the table, mine was a plain Campus notebook, though it wasn’t new. It was a well-used diary from last year. I flipped through it to show that the pages were filled, causing Shirakawa’s anxious face to break into a light smile for the first time.
“So it’s really a diary.”
“That’s what I said, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but still… I didn’t know you were so diligent, Moriya-kun.”
She held out her hand, but I pulled the diary back. Shirakawa raised her eyebrows perplexedly.
“Are you not going to show me?”
“Well, it’s a diary, after all.”
“So we won’t be able to use it?”
“I’ll read the important parts out loud.”
Shirakawa still seemed uneasy after hearing my reply, but didn’t say anything further, instead turning to a fresh page in her notebook. After adjusting the grip on her pen, she looked at me with upturned eyes while facing down.
“I see. Shall we begin, then?”
I nodded silently.
From Shirakawa came a whisper that sounded like a prayer.
“I hope this goes well.”
I hope so too. But instead of vocalizing that thought, I returned a light nod.
To relax my mind and body, I let out a deep breath.
The manager, who was wearing a pair of round spectacles, brought over the iced coffee that I’d ordered. He placed it in front of me, avoiding the documents on the table. The cup was still free from condensation.
That’s right, I also had coffee on that day, with that person. It was a cold day, and the coffee was hot. And that person didn’t seem to like that coffee.
I opened my diary and searched for the page marked “April 23”.
Of my hazy memories, a few images remained vivid. Eyes peering at me, black curled hair, a white nape, the words “Is there a philosophical meaning behind this?”, and hydrangeas. Those images acted like light sources, increasing my field of vision and allowing me to gradually recall the days I’d spent with her. Thinking about it now, she was beautiful. As for why I was only realizing this now, it was because she’d shown other parts of her worth more than her appearance.
…15 months ago, Fujishiba City. I was heading home from school with Tachiarai. As usual, we were chatting up a storm.
Right, it was raining on that day, and it lasted for a long time. It was a spring shower. It was spring.
I could even hear the pitter-patter of raindrops hitting my umbrella as the scene played back in my mind.
Contents | Chapter 1
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