Volume 5 - CH 2.3

“Hey, Odagiri. Why are you scowling? You’re creeping me out.”

Aya peered into my face with a frown. She was studying me up close.

I swallowed. I could still see Aya in her face. Her expression was different and her appearance had changed considerably, but the core was the same. I recalled what she said before.

Aya was Aya’s desire materialized. Aya’s model.

I was the one who killed Aya. But the weapon was…

“…Me,” Aya said.

My eyes grew wide.

Aya shrugged awkwardly. “Why do you look surprised? Your thoughts are written all over your face. You’re so easy. I also wanted to talk to you about that.”

At the end of the bridge was a staircase. Aya grabbed the railing and ran all the way down to the bottom.

The riverbank was covered with bright-green grass that had grown in the summer. The smell of grass filled the air. Jumping into the sea of green, Aya ran straight ahead, wading through the grassy field all the way to the riverside, and stopped. She walked over to the sandy soil, then turned to look at me.

She was behaving playfully, but on her grim expression was a hint of sorrow.

“Hurry up,” she said. “You don’t make a woman wait.”

“Okay, I’m coming.”

What did she want to talk about?

I jumped into the field and followed her, brushing aside the tough grass blocking my way. Damp soil stuck to the bottom of my shoes. The smell of grass rose with each step I took.

As soon as I made it to the riverbank, I faced Aya.

“Hehe.”

Aya chuckled, for reasons unknown. She rolled up her sleeves, exposing her pale, upper arms. A small dent appeared around her elbow, growing wider and deeper. Flesh continued sinking until forming a deep cut.

Her arm tore from the cut, revealing fatty red flesh inside. She didn’t shed any blood. Following the law of gravity, her lower arm fell to the ground.

Both her arms had split at the elbow.

Something fell one after another from between flesh and bone.

Several blades rolled on the sand and stones.

Knives, scissors, small kitchen knives. All sorts of weapons fell from her arms, wet with blood, viscous fluid, and fat.

Aya smiled. I slowly took a step back.

“How’s that? I put a lot inside,” she said.

“What are you doing?”

What was she planning to do with all these blades?

I positioned myself so that I could move at a moment’s notice. Aya, however, looked bewildered. Her arms were starting to fuse back together. Blinking repeatedly, she shook her head.

“Oh, you got it wrong,” she said. “They’re not for me to use.”

Aya rummaged through the blades and picked one up. Her fingers dug into the blade of the small knife, and blood poured out of the white flesh, sliding down the blade and the grip.

Aya showed her red hand to me. “They’re for you.”

“…What?”

Blood trickled before me. The blade had severed her finger halfway through. Aya’s eyes were narrowed, her fingers quivering. I just stared blankly at the scene in front of me.

Aya, who was smiling even as her arms were ripped apart, was biting her lip.

“Wait, do you feel pain?”

“I do! I’ve noticed it recently. Moving my flesh on my own feels fine, but a cut hurts a lot. Oh, don’t worry about scars. I can just erase them.”

More blood dribbled down. I grabbed her arm. My mind went blank.

I had no idea what she was getting at.

Why was she doing something stupid?

“You idiot!” I roared. “What are you doing?! Let it go!”

“You’re the idiot! I’m telling you to grab it!”

As soon as I grabbed the handle of the knife, Aya pulled her hand away. Blood gushed out. I felt the unpleasant sensation of the blade sliding across my palm.

Aya screamed as she grabbed her bloody hand. The knife had cut through most of the dangling fingers.

“Stop! Look at your fingers!”

“I-I don’t care! I already made up my mind!” Aya backed away from me and shook her head like a child throwing a tantrum.

The cat apron was stained red.

“Odagiri,” she said, waving her bloody hand. “There’s scissors, kitchen knife, and uh… Sorry, my memory’s still hazy. This thing that I gave to her…”

“You mean the knife?”

Aya spread her bloody arms. Nodding, she stood tall.

“Yes, the knife. You can do whatever you want with my body. You can cut and stab me as much as you want. I won’t die, but at least you’ll feel better.”

“…What?”

What was she saying? I could not comprehend her odd words, which in turn, allowed me to regain my composure.

Why should I cut her? Why should I stab her?

There was no reason or need for me to do that.

Aya was seriously waiting for my next move. She was biting her lip in anticipation of the pain.

A breeze stirred the grass. I studied the knife in my hand. Its silver blade was stained with blood and fat. I had seen this scene before.

Through the memory that my child devoured, I looked at the knife Aya had held before.

“You’ll help me, won’t you?”

A dispirited voice. A knife offered to the girl, urging her to take it.

“You promised him, didn’t you?”

A grim voice. Arms beckoning.

And the girl took the knife.

An event from the past that could not be undone.

Oh, I get it now.

I took a lighter and a cigarette from my chest pocket. Holding the knife, I inhaled smoke with the smell of iron. Aya gave me a puzzled look.

I blew out smoke. “You shouldn’t be forcing people to do something they don’t want to do.”

“What?”

I took a long drag and breathed out. “I don’t want to be a judge.”

Asking to be punished means telling someone to be the judge.

Aya swallowed. There was agitation in her eyes. She shook her head wildly.

A twisted smile appeared on her lips. But her voice was trembling.

“Th-That’s not what I meant,” she said. “You hate me, don’t you? I killed that girl. But no one can judge me. So I…”

Aya spread her hands. Her dangling fingers swayed.

She looked at me grimly. “I’ve decided to live as long as I can. But I can’t have you hating me forever. It’ll make it hard for me. So I came up with something to give you closure.”

Was that why she prepared multiple blades? She wanted me to forgive her with this?

First of all, her idea of a closure was sickening. I breathed a sigh. I took another puff and regarded the bloody knife.

“No. That’s not it,” I said. “That’s not all, is it? For the record, I don’t want to cut or stab you, and I don’t want to get killed.”

I flicked the cigarette away and crushed it underfoot. After making sure the fire was extinguished, I picked it back up and put it in my chest pocket. It was still warm.

I took a deep breath, and said, “Also, I was the one who let go of Aya’s hand. I killed that girl. How do I atone for what I did, then?”

She and I were equally guilty. That’s why I couldn’t forgive her.

I approached her with the knife in my right hand and grabbed her shoulder tight.

Aya closed her eyes to prepare herself. But I didn’t stab her. Instead, I held the knife before her eyes. A drop of blood trickled, dripping down her face.

“Open your eyes and look closely. We put a knife in that girl’s hand.”

Nothing we could do would undo what happened. There was no point in grieving or regretting now.

It was too late.

Aya’s face contorted, and she took a step back. But I didn’t let go of her shoulder. It was too late to grieve or regret. No one would offer forgiveness, and there was no point in being forgiven.

That girl felt the same thing.

“Do you remember?” I asked. “You’re feeling what Aya felt back then.”

“I’m a murderer. I killed someone I care about. I killed my friend. I killed someone. But no one condemns me for what I did. No one blames me.”

“No one criticizes me. No one calls me a murderer.”

“You should now know how that girl felt.”

She should know the pain and the weight of it better than anyone else.

“My forgiveness means nothing,” I said.

Aya raised her bloody hand. Blood dripped down her severed fingers. I let go of the knife and grasped her hand. The moment my palm came in contact with her blood, I heard a shriek.

The child laughed as she devoured Aya’s emotions. Her screams echoed in my mind.

Aya cried and howled like a child.

I can’t escape. I can’t be forgiven. No matter where I go, it’s the same. I’m lonely. I’m sad. I’m in pain. But I don’t want to die.

If she wanted to be like me, if I was her model, she must have wanted to be like this. That’s how it was. I knew all along. If I had just given it a little thought, I would have understood.

“I’m sure she would have wanted to live, too.”

Tears streamed down Aya’s cheeks. She cried as she pounded on my chest.

Her fingers trembled. It must hurt, but she didn’t stop.

“Why, why…” she mumbled between sobs. “Please… Please be mad at me.”

I removed my tie and wrapped it around her hand. She could heal her wounds at will, but I did it anyway to stop the bleeding.

“I’m not going to do anything to you,” I said, fastening her fingers back. “But don’t worry. I am angry. I will never forgive you for what you did to Aya. No matter what you do, I will never forgive you, just as I will never forgive myself. But you can live your life as you like from now on. You won’t hear any complaints from me. Live as you wish. You decide how you want to atone for your sins.”

There was no forgiveness to be given, no stone to be cast.

There was only one thing I could say to her.

“Don’t ask me for help.”

Aya plopped down on the ground. She howled, forgetting to heal her wounds. Tears dripped onto the fallen knife. I looked at the scattered weapons.

The same blades she had Aya hold in her hand.

“Even I don’t know what to do,” I said.

“It doesn’t matter… what you say… Ahaha…”

Aya chuckled. She pounded on the ground over and over, turning the soil red. I didn’t say anything more and sat down beside her. I looked up at the sky and lit a cigarette.

I laughed weakly, then took a long drag. Tears streamed down Aya’s cheeks as she laughed.

Once we understand the concept of death and know its horror, the weight of a person’s death becomes heavier.

Even more so if, even when you weren’t afraid of death, you felt regret.

If she had learned what kind of feelings had given her form.

Killing her friend and living on would weigh heavy on her.

Aya bawled like a child. I stayed by her side.

A cool breeze brushed my cheeks. Dusk slowly crept across the sky.

I just stayed still until she stopped crying.

That was all I could do.