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V4 Story V – Part 02

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Translator: Kell

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My field of vision suddenly folded and switched. The garden was compressed into a square, and I saw the red ground. Then, color returned once more, like a strip of film being soaked in developing solution. The red-tinted space slowly changed from the edges.

I found myself in a mansion. The straw-matted room was dim; it was probably nighttime. The room was divided into two areas, separated by a shoji. There was orange light on the inside of the inner room, where I could see shadows stirring.

Two strange-looking shapes, dancing.

The shadows moved as if preying on each other. Long limbs entwined and sometimes separated. I could hear flesh smashing into flesh, followed by what sounded like the groaning of a beast. The shadows continued dancing.

I could hear moans.

The child in the women’s kimono was sitting in the other room, hugging his knees. His face was frozen. The fox-masked child was next to him. They were sitting on the tatami mats in exactly the same posture, but only the fox-faced child was smiling amusingly.

“The woman must have wanted a girl,” the fox-masked child said with a laugh.

It was easy to imagine what was going on behind the sliding doors.

Watching the shadows intertwining with each other endlessly, the fox-masked child said mockingly, “She must have wanted a girl. She copulated with her own brother so the blood stayed pure, but the child she gave birth to was of the opposite sex. She should have been satisfied with that, but she was not ready to give up.”

The fox-masked child shrugged dismissively. The child sitting beside him stayed perfectly still. His lovely face was as cold as ice.

“This deed went on and on until she was killed by her own child. The woman was obsessed with her standing. The man had carnal desires. Ah, animals, and the things they do. Absolutely foolish. As time went on, what do you think happened?”

The fox-masked child bowed his head. He had stopped talking. Suddenly, the child stood up slowly. Leaving the fox-masked child behind, he silently opened the sliding door, left the room, and disappeared into the hallway. The fox-masked child remained in the same position, his red lips curved into a smile.

“A beast will give birth to a beast. Don’t you think so?”

I could hear heavy breathing. The two shadows parted, and the woman’s hand rested on the shoji.

The inner room opened.

Click.

The pale arm, visible for only a moment, vanished. White turned to shreds, fluttering in the air. The next thing I knew, human skin had turned into cherry blossom petals. White petals were drifting in the pale blue sky. The tender smell of spring filled my nose. Every time the wind blew, a blizzard of cherry blossoms flew up, adorning the garden with beautiful colors.

Two children stood amid the gorgeous scenery.

One was holding a red parasol and the other a blue one.

They were facing each other under the cherry blossoms fluttering like snow.

The child with the red parasol was smiling like a cat. A nasty, animalistic grin.

I knew exactly who it was.

Mayuzumi Azaka.

Click.

“The other members of the clan don’t seem to realize it,” she said, “but you killed the head, didn’t you? And you tried to kill me too.”

There was no note of reproach in her voice. The other child remained quiet. Facing each other in silence, they twirled their parasols.

Brilliant colors spun round and round.

Mayuzumi did not wait for an answer, and went on. “I’m not going to hand down judgment on you. Whatever grudges and bitter feelings you harbor, whatever pleasure or delight you feel, I don’t care about any of it. Do keep that in mind. I don’t want you to kill me. That would be a silly way to die, and I want nothing of it.”

The child with the blue parasol smiled in response, his eyes narrowed like those of a fox. There was a strange emotion boiling deep within them. His cold, hardened rage was difficult to describe—it seemed either murderous impulse or simply anger. But they were hardly the eyes of a human being.

His eyes were that of a raging beast’s.

“What you did was simply matricide.”

The wind gusted. Red parasol twirled like a windmill.

“Just because you killed Mayuzumi Azaka doesn’t mean you become her,” she said matter-of-factly. “Your wish will never come true. That name is inherently mine. Give up,” she said softly.

Still the child did not respond. Mayuzumi Azaka grinned like a cat. And to her own brother-in-law, she declared cruelly and brutally, “Unfortunately, you’re just an imitation.”

Click.

The petals stilled. The wind stopped, and their smiles froze. There was a third figure between them. The child with the fox mask was standing between them, arms outstretched.

The fox-masked child inclined his head. His gaze darted between the two children, measuring them.

“This one is the imitation.”

The fox-masked child pointed to the blue parasol. Then with a flippant motion, he indicated the red parasol.

“This is the real one.”

Lacquered mouth curved into a deep smile. Holding up both palms like a scale, the fox-masked child went on.

“Now, then. The real one says that the imitation’s wish won’t come true. A perfectly logical assumption. After all, the imitation’s wish is meaningless. It will never come true. But…”

Once more the fox-masked child tilted his head in an exaggerated motion, and crossed his arms dramatically. He cocked his head again and again.

“Did the imitation actually have any desire at all?” he asked curiously.

Click.

The petals began to move again, and the wind intensified like a storm. The white petals drifting in the air gradually changed color, turning red, as if they had been dipped in colored water. Cherry blossoms were dyed a color that reminded me of the phrase, “Dead bodies are buried under the cherry trees.” My vision was painted a blood red.

We were trapped in a crimson world. Like a fetus trying to emerge from its mother’s womb, I moved my body frantically. Holding Uka in my arms, I waded through the sea of blood and made my way down the narrow path, as though descending a birth canal.

Soon, I heard something in the distance.

A familiar sound.

A doorbell rang, followed by the sound of heavy rain.

I found myself standing in the rain. Lukewarm water drenched my body, seeping into my clothes, robbing me of heat. My shirt stuck to my body. Uka gave a small sneeze.

I felt like I was going crazy. The surroundings had changed drastically. Holding Uka tight, I looked around. Her weight alone kept me from losing my mind.

The familiar schoolyard was wet from the rain. I could see the gray school building in the distance. A girl was running toward it. She tripped over mud and fell to the ground. But she got up quickly and resumed running, running as though escaping from something. Once again she tripped. She rose back to her feet without even checking her wounds.

She ran and tripped, ran and tripped, over and over.

Her legs were wounded, her cheeks torn, and her hands scraped. Blood trickled down.

She looked like she had been knocked down to the ground repeatedly.

She tumbled again. Covered in mud, she tried desperately to stand up, but she couldn’t move her legs well. She lay on the ground and looked up at the sky. Rain poured into her wide-open eyes. Her face scrunched up like a child’s.

And she cried out.

She roared to the sky. She used her entire body and soul to express her sorrow.

I knew who it was.

I knew where this was. When.

Her name was Miyama Shizuka. The woman I killed.

This had to be right after I pushed her away in the library.

It was raining hard that day, too.

She continued crying like an abandoned child. But the help she was hoping for did not come. The person she really wanted to hang on to was in the library, dumbfounded.

There were no arms here to hold her.

I didn’t follow her that day.

Shizuka hugged her own body tight. But the shaking only intensified. She looked up to the sky again and cried out.

Splash.

Suddenly, someone stepped on a puddle. A muddled sound joined the pouring rain.

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