“The choice is yours. But you are capable of it. Nothing will change the truth of that. The reason for your birth is there. . . and only there.”
“Shut up! What. . . what are you, some sort of demon?! I. . . I. . . he wheezed, unable to find the words.
“Am I tempting you? No. That's not my intent. It's up to you to decide.” Her eyes alone laughed. “But, Asukai-sensei, remember this. Birds do fall from the sky, and sometimes it does snow in April.”
“Get away!”
Asukai flung the contents of his stew bowl at her.
She made no effort to dodge, but simply stood there and took it.
A moment later there was a scream. “Ow! Wh-what the heck?!”
Asukai gasped.
Kotoe was back.
“A -- are you. . .”
“Why. . . why am I. . . ? Gross!!!” Kotoe said, confused; no idea what was going on. Her memories didn't match up.
Asukai wiped her face off with a towel, trying to keep his body from shaking.
(. . . What did she call herself? The Imaginator. . . ?)
***
He might well be going crazy, but that was no reason to skip work. Asukai was at the cram school again, speaking with yet another student.
“I can't do this anymore. It's not for me. Like, in the middle of the night, I can be taking notes. . . and my hands just start shaking,” the girl said, nodding to herself, over and over.
There was no stem in the girl's 'vision.' She had roots, but they connected directly into the leaves and base of the flower.
“You need a change,” he answered, but Asukai knew it was useless. This girl was afraid that nothing in her being was ever secure. No matter how often she tried something new, her anxiety would always be there. Whether she passed the exam or not, nothing would change.
“What should I do?”
“Take a break, do whatever you like. Or change the way you study. You've got a good memory don't you?”
People without stems were good at stuffing things in. They were unable to turn that knowledge and experience into anything, to nurture it or let it grow. They could put in as much as they liked, but it would just pile up, never changing, never rotting.
“I suppose so. . .”
“Then spend one week concentrating on solving equations. Halve the number of things to memorize.”
“Ah. . . b-but. . .” She hesitated. . . but with a clear goal placed in front of her, her eyes shone. Her type had no conscious goals of their own, so they tended to relax if you gave them one. “Will that work?”
“I'm sure you can do it. Your percentile's been going up,” Asukai replied. He wanted to add, 'that won't save you, though. . . ' but he let the words die in his throat. It was futile.
“Okay! I'll try it. Sensei, thank you so much!”
“You're the one who has to do the work.”
“No, it's because you really know how to help people. Everyone says so! Seems such a shame to waste that kind of talent on a cram school.”
“Hey, now.”
“Asukai-sensei, I think you were meant to do something much more important. Yeah, you probably were.”
“Hmm. . . who knows?”
“You are capable of it. Nothing will change the truth of that.”
“I just can't get into it,” the boy said, sullenly.
“Hmm. . . your first results were pretty good, but they haven't improved at all,” Asukai looked up from the boy's file, and checked the vision at his chest.
No leaves.
This type took no pleasure in life. Since his flower and stem were doing pretty well, he was fully capable of better things, but everything he tried dried up around him.
“I know I gotta do better. . .”
“Studying bores you, right?” Asukai said bluntly and to the point.
The boy nodded, wryly. “Basically.”
“You know why?” Asukai's tone changed, becoming sort of chummy.
'Nope.”
“'Cause it's boring. What other reason is there?” he grinned. This was all part of the performance.
“Well, shit, if you put it that way. . .” the boy said, grinning back. Anyone else would lose their motivation if their teacher talked to them like this, but with this type there was no risk of that.
“Look, I know it's tedious as hell. And you're expected to do whatever us teachers tell you to do. . . so how's that ever gonna be fun? All we're doing is just following some stupid rulebook anyway.”
“Ha ha ha!”
“When you get down to it, passing tests is a matter of understanding the system. You know why I can work part time here, right? It's not like I've got a teaching license or anything.”
“Well. . . you got experience, right?”
“Yep. Few years ago, just like you, I was trying to pass these exams. I kept hitting all these brick walls and I was just banging my head trying to figure out an easy way to pass. Now, I make a living passing on all those little tricks I figured out.”
“Ah ha! I get ya.”
“See? Studying has some use after all.”
“Not just for getting into college, you mean?”
“Exactly. These days, getting into a good college doesn't even mean that much. You only go because you have to go. Still, that's no reason to kill yourself studying. But if you look at it as training. . . I don't know what it is you want to be, but whatever it is, you're gonna have to develop a few tricks -- a few techniques. Think of all this as, like, a simulation. No, think of it like a game. There aren't that many other times in your life where society itself and all of the people around you will just up and support you, but this is one of those times. It gives you the freedom to experiment.”
Personally, Asukai just thought he was talking crap, but the boy sitting across from him was visibly happier.
“Never thought of it that way. ..”
“Yeah, just think of the test itself as just another chance to gather data and experiment.”
“Right. . .”
“But in that sense, you've got a little catching up to do. On these results, you'll end up in a second rate school. That'd suck, right? Waste of a good opportunity.”
This was a little logical sleight of hand, but the boy never noticed.
People with no leaves feel like they aren't connected to the world around them. No matter what they do, they can never feel peace of mind when they are around other people. To compensate, they pretty much lose themselves in methodology. They know all sorts of approaches to things and all sorts of tricks, but all they're doing is trying to make up for an inability to communicate with others.
Being nice to them, praising them. . . it's all useless. Staying firmly on a practical ground worked best.
But the end result of all of their tricks only served to drive them even further into isolation. Since nobody else needed these tricks, they couldn't understand how much work went into them. Those of the same type were especially cruel -- if they happened to be using different methodologies.
None of them would ever find an ‘ally.'
“Okay, I'll try it out.” Drawn along by Asukai's friendly manner, the boy was now completely comfortable.
“You've still got plenty of time,” Asukai nodded. He didn't dare add, 'But all your efforts and memories will never be appreciated by anyone else.’ That revelation would only be utterly futile.
“But, Sensei,” the boy asked. “What are you planning on doing when you get out of college?”
“Dunno. Probably try and make a living painting.”
“Seems like a waste, man. You ought to start your own business, do something big. Seriously.” His eyes were serious, no sense of the mocking that this type so often engaged in.
“Maybe.”
“You lack a 'calling.'”
“I keep having this dream over and over.”
“What kind?”
“Um, Sensei. . . have you ever heard the phrase 'Sometimes it snows in April'?”
�
��Uh. . . n-no, can't say that I have. W-why?”
“In the dream, someone -- l don't know who -- keeps saying that to me. When I hear those words, I just don't care about anything anymore. This stupid test, this ugly world -- they just don't matter to me. Not anymore.”
“. . . . . . . .”
“But whoever it is, they are a little too nice. . . and that's sort of scary. When I wake up, it feels like someone just threw a bucket of cold water in my face. Brrr.. . .”
“And after I have that dream, I can't do anything. I had one the day before the last practice test, and I couldn't figure out a single problem.”
“. . . . . . . .”
“Sensei, is there something wrong with me?”
“. . . . . . . .”
“Sensei? Uh, Asukai-sensei?”
“-- Ah! Oh, uh, hmm?”
“Something wrong?”
“Oh, no. It's nothing.”
***
When the last student left, Asukai tried several times to sketch that face.
Unfortunately, he couldn't draw it well enough, and he crumpled up all of his attempted pages and flung them into the corner of the counseling office, missing the wastebasket.
Afterwards, he knelt down to collect them all and wondered to himself, “What the hell am I doing. . . ?”
He sighed, balled up the failed sketches as tightly as he could, and buried them deep within the office wastebasket.
***
Several days passed like this, repeating the same answers over and over for an endless progression of identical worries, occasionally encountering the phrase “Sometimes it snows in April” among them.
Then one day, as he walked along the streets after work, he heard a groan from a back alley.
“Unh. . . unh. . . s -- somebody. . .” he heard, faintly.
“ . . . ?” He turned off the main road, heading towards the voice.
“Please. . . somebody. . .” It sounded like a girl's voice and in great pain, barely gasping out the words.
“Is somebody there?” Asukai called out. There was no answer.
He moved deeper into the alley, and found a girl slumped against the cul de sac.
“I -- Unhhhhhhhhh,” she groaned.
“What's the matter?” Asukai asked as he went over to her, and placed his hand upon her back.
Instantly, his hand was flung off.
The girl sprang up like a jack-in-the-box, launching herself towards him, and slamming his back against the wall. “Don't move,” she snarled, with sudden menace. There was a carving knife in her hand.
“You're. . .” Asukai looked at her face. She was very, very thin, like a skeleton. It was painful to look at her. Her hair was a brittle and matted mess, not at all that of a young girl.
“Heh. . . heh. . . that was stupid of you, Asukai-sensei. Even this country's pretty dangerous these days. I knew a sap like you would fall for it. . . . . . !” she sneered, breathing ragged.
“You were after me. . . ? Imazaki Shizuko, isn't it? You were in my spring course, weren't you?”
She had come to him for counseling once.
“Heh. . . heh. . . I'm surprised you remembered.” She was gasping for breath. Her eyes were red, bloodshot. It was clear she was on something, presumably some sort of chemical. “But it ain't gonna get you off. Give me all the money you got.”
“To buy drugs. . . ? What happened to you? You were such a good student. . .”
“My dad got arrested for tax evasion or something! Made everything so futile! But what do you care? Just hand it over!!!” The girl screamed, hysterical.
“ . . . . . . .. . “ Asukai looked at the tip of the knife. It was shaking. Her grip on it was so tight she couldn't keep it pointed at him. It would be easy to dodge it.
But he suddenly felt a turmoil of emotion welling up inside him.
Everything seemed so ridiculous -- directionless anger abruptly gushed forth from deep within his heart.
'No,” he said, crisply, before he even realized it.
“What?” The girl said, looking even fiercer.
“Go ahead and kill me,” Asukai spat.
“I'm serious!”
“So am I!” he roared. “You think you can escape by taking drugs? That doesn't do any good! No matter how high you get, there's no saving us!”
“Sh-shut up! You're just scared!” The girl moved the knife closer, touching Asukai's throat.
“Try it!” he yelled, and she put her anger into it, pushing forward.
The knife slipped past, his skin sliced open, and blood came out. She had missed his jugular by a hair's breadth, and he had nanowly escaped death, but Asukai was unaware of this.
The girl toppled over. She didn't have the strength left to keep her footing.
A number of little packets spilled out of her pocket onto the ground -- little packets of drugs.
“. . . . . . . . !” Asukai frowned down at them. This was hardly for her personal use. With this quantity, there was no reason for her to be trying to mug people. Which meant. . .
“. . . Exactly. These are for other people,” the girl said, rising slowly to her feet -- no, this was no longer the same girl.
Her eyes were laughing, but she had no expression.
“Y-you again,” Asukai glared at the thing inhabiting the girl, ignoring the blood dripping from his neck.
“Just to be clear, I took over only a few seconds ago. Most of your encounter was of her own free will,” she said coldly. “f you can call that free will. It's not like she wanted to do it. She's a girl. If she needed money, there are faster and safer ways for her to get it. But once her body's been torn to pieces like this, those options vanish.”
“Shut up!” Despite the fact that the girl had tried to stab him, hearing her insulted made him furious.
“Do you know what these drugs are for, Asukai-sensei?”
The thing inhabiting the girl's body pointed at the ground.
“She was selling them?”
“Exactly. The dosage is too weak for her now -- it's beginner's strength. If she wanted more drugs for herself, she had to sell these to other people. That's what they told her. But she couldn't bring herself to ever do that.”
She pointed towards her chest.
“Such a sad story. Didn't want to make any more people like her, but what else could she do? So she asked you, the only person she could ever remember being nice to her.”
“. . . . . . . . .”
“But, Asukai-sensei, either way, this girl was finished.”
“What do you mean?”
“The drugs have destroyed her body. She won't last out the month. She's going to die. Futile, pitiful, miserable and sad,” she sneered.
“. . . . . . . . .”
“But you might be able to do something,” she said, picking up the knife, and stabbing it deep into her own neck.
“. . . . . . . . !”
For a second, the girl's blood sprayed out, filling the air; and then she fell over.
“Aiiieeeee!” There was a scream.
At the end of the alley, a woman walking by had seen this. She quickly ran away.
Asukai rushed over to the girl.
She was gasping. Her face was back to normal. She was gone.
“Shit. . . !” Asukai pushed his handkerchief against the girl's wound, but half her blood had already emptied out of her in a massive geyser.
Eyes hollow, the girl whispered, “. . . . . . it. . . . . . t . . .”
Asukai leaned close, putting his ear to her lips.
“. . . mn it, damn it, damn it,” she swore. Cursing everything in the world. “Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it, da--!”
Asukai stared down at the girl. She had no choice but to stay angry until the very end.
He grit his teeth, and put his hand on her chest.
It was so much easier than he'd thought.
***
“Let me get this straight. . . moments after she assau
lted you, she suddenly stabbed herself in the throat? This is your story?” The detective asked. He was speaking to the key witness, who had stayed by the side of the body until the patrol cars arrived.
“Yes,” Asukai said instantly. There was a bandage around his neck, applied by the doctor at the police hospital.
“You say you knew this girl?”
“Yes. Her name is Imazaki Shizuko. She's about eighteen. I don't know her address, but it's probably still in the files at the cram school. I taught her last spring.” He answered smoothly, without faltering. No emotion.
“Did she have something against you? Any idea what?”
“Maybe. She came to me for counseling, but I guess I didn't help her much.”
“Well, from what we've been able to ascertain, her family situation was at the root of it,” the detective admitted. He'd decided Asukai's calm responses proved his innocence. “She had reason enough to kill herself.”
“Suicide?”
“Yeah. She wouldn't have lasted much longer anyway. The drugs had wrecked her system. The way she died was comparatively pain-free. Overdosing's a nasty way to go. Truth is. . . we'd had our eyes on her for dealing for a while now. I can tell you that she wasn't much good at it. Heart wasn't in it.”
“You knew about her?”
“She was low level for another pusher that we're after, but the big man's still hasn't shown his face.”
'You knew, but didn't save her?!' Asukai's poker face hid this thought perfectly.
“You'll be free to go soon. We've got a witness, so we know you didn't kill her. Soon as we wrap things up here, you can leave.”
“Thank you,” Asukai bowed his head.
The investigation was over soon enough, and he signed and stamped his statement as directed. Asukai rose to leave.
“Oh, Asukai-san. . . this is just my personal question, but. . .” the detective started.
“What?”
“While she was dying, did you say something to her?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don't mean anything. Just that girl, dying that way. . . her face was awfully peaceful. Like the thorns in her heart had all been plucked away. If something you said put her mind at ease, then you must be one hell of a teacher.” The aging detective nodded keenly.
Boogiepop Returns VS Imaginator Part 1 Page 3
