“Mm? Sounds great. Finally found some motivation.”
“But there's something strange about him. Like. . . oh, I can't put it into words. . .” She must have looked very high strung at that moment.
Her husband frowned in irritation. “Come off it. You're his mother. He's the one taking the test. You put too much pressure on him and he won't be able to concentrate,” he snapped.
“Yes, I know, but. . .”
“Sounds like you've got a case of exam nerves. Just take a deep breath and relax, dear.”
“Okay. . .” Kumiko nodded in agreement. It was true that she wanted him to study more, and she couldn't deny that the current developments were a bit of a relief. And really, it wasn't that strange. . .
And with that, the intuitive doubt that had arisen inside her was washed away in a flood of sensible analysis.
***
General opinion of Anou Shinjirou abruptly improved. Everyone noticed that he had become more serious. This more motivated turn not only impressed the teachers, but also softened the views of his classmates. Most of all, everyone kept expressing surprise at his sudden lack of interest in Taniguchi Masaki.
“Well, I thought about it, and realized I was just jealous. And you know, that's really not cool. . .” Shinjirou said, and since Masaki's number one enemy had changed his mind, the other guys began to think differently as well, and soon none of them were openly bad mouthing Taniguchi Masaki.
The first group to come around was the very girls that had treated him like an insect before. “Huh. . . Anou-kun's not a bad guy after all. . .”
“All that conflict between him and Masaki-kun was just some stupid rivalry. . .” they said, spinning things positively all on their own.
Taniguchi Masaki himself was probably the only person who didn't pick up on the sea of change. His head was full of Orihata Aya, and he had no time for anything else.
Anou Shinjirou himself cared little for the reaction it provoked. He was simply plugging away at his studies, gradually getting closer to the benchmark for the high school he was aiming for.
“Well, Anou, you're doing very well. You should have no problem at all getting into Shinyo Academy,” his teacher said, during one of their counseling sessions.
“But I can't slack off now,” Shinjirou replied calmly.
“Hey, that's my line! Ha ha ha! But true, very true. Keep up the good work.”
“Yes.”
“You're living proof that all you have to do is put your mind to it. Don't think about anything else;just concentrate and you'll get there.”
“I think so too,” Shinjirou nodded quietly.
But his teacher frowned at him. “Hey. . . is something wrong?”
“What?”
“You're crying.”
“Huh?” Shinjirou put his hand to his eyes. His cheeks were wet. “I am? But why?” he murmured.
“You getting enough sleep? I mean, I'm glad you're working so hard, but maybe you ought to try and take things a little easier now.”
“. . . . . . . . . “
But Shinjirou had no answer. He just sat there, tears rolling down his cheeks, staring into space, unable to understand why he was crying.
***
“Dear Anou Shinjirou-kun,
I'm sorry to send you a letter like this so suddenly. I know this is a busy time for everyone, and no one has time to spare, but I have something I need to say to you.
I think I'm in love with you.
Isn’t that strange? I don't even know my own feelings. I know I softened the sentiment with a dumb phrase like “I think,” but that’s the truth of it.
Until just a while ago, I was like everyone else , and totally misunderstood you. You just seemed to always be angry about something, so it was hard to ever get near you. But. . .”
“. . . . . . . . . “
This letter was resting in his shoe locker when he left school. When he opened the letter, a whiff of perfume emerged. The paper was soaked in it. He started reading the letter with no reaction at all, and soon he realized it was a love letter.
“But recently, l started watching you, and I realized that you were only angry because the true nature of your feelings was not being understood.
Am I right? I'm sure I am. I understand. . . because I feel the same way.
I know I might be making this all up, but I feel like you're the only one who can understand my feelings. l hate to trouble you, but will you meet ne? Just this once?
Please give me a chance. . .”
The letter continued, giving a date, time and place to meet. . . but no name.
“. . . . . . . . .” Shinjirou remained expressionless, just standing there holding the letter. He didn't know what to do, so he remained motionless.
Eventually, he moved stiffly over to a nearby phone booth.
Automatically, he dialed the number implanted in his brain.
The call was answered the moment it connected.
“State your name,” the high-pitched voice on the other end of the line said.
“D1229085. Urgent communication for Spooky E,” Shinjirou said, in a flat, mechanical tone.
“What, something happened?”
“Emergence of Emotional Circuit Response Case F. Disturbance level A.”
The man on the other end of the line clicked his tongue in irritation. “Report details.”
Shinjirou did so mechanically.
When he finished, the voice said, “Hmm. So this girl was drawn to a loner like you? Go for it, take her invitation. I'll permit it.”
“Understood. Permission received.”
“Where did she want to meet?”
Shinjirou told him, and Spooky E made a pleased chuckle. “Rather a lonely place for a romantic tryst, mm'? Bet you anything that girl wants you to do her. Hee hee hee hee.”
“. . . . . . . . . “
“Okay, that place might do just fine, but if it looks like there are other people around, try and lure her out to some place deserted. I'll 'condition' her.”
“. . . . . . . . . “
“Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
“Okay, when you hang up the phone you will return to normal mode in twelve seconds. You will forget about the letter until it is time for the meeting.”
“I understand. I will hang up.”
He hung up, put the letter in his bag, stood for a few seconds absently, and when he hit the twelve second mark, snapped out of it, and left the school, heading for his cram school, same as he always did.
He sat through classes like always, and during the short lull between classes, he found a spot on a bench in the rest area and ate a hamburger.
Around him were several children his age, and a group of high school kids studying for college.
Right next to Shinjirou, one such girl said, “Oh god, what is this? Help me, Suemaaa!”
“Touka! At this stage of the game, you have to know this!”
“I know, but. . .”
The two girls were studying together. Their uniforms were obviously from ShinyoAcademy, which is where he was planning to go to high school, but he paid them no attention.
“. . . . . . . . .” While he ate, he flipped through his vocabulary book.
But his hand stopped for a moment.
His gaze was drawn to a painting hung on the wall opposite him.
It was a painting of a great crowd of people sitting in a wasteland, holding hands. There were several black goats around them, eating the rose bushes that grew in the wilderness.
“ . . . . . . .. . . ..” He couldn't take his eyes off it.
Eventually the bell rang, and everyone got up and went back to their classrooms, but Shinjirou just sat there, motionless.
Left alone, as if frozen to his seat.
“ . . . . . . . . . . . .”
Ever since Spooky E had “conditioned” him, Shinjirou had stopped thinking on his own. He simply followed the implanted instructions
and the expectations of those around him, dutifully.
So why was he unable to respond to this painting, like he had been nailed to the floor?
“. . . . . . . . . . . .” He stared up at the painting.
From behind him, a voice said, “What you are experiencing is what we call 'emotion.”'
Shinjirou turned around. Behind him stood a young man in white clothes.
“Uh. . .” He could swear he'd seen the guy somewhere before, but he couldn't remember where. Yet he had seen him. Where was it. . . ?
The man seemed to think they hadn't spoken before. At the previous meeting, the man had been unable to see Shinjirou, so he didn't recognize him. Neither one of them knew that they were meeting for the second time.
“Your heart was moved by something in that painting. But you've had no such experience in your life before, so you had no sample data inside to tell you how to react,” the man in white said quietly, walking towards Shinjirou.
“ . . . . . . . . . . . .” Shinjirou said nothing. He was unable to react to this man as well.
“You're Anou Shinjirou, right? From the public school last minute preparation course?” The man in white sat down next to Shinjirou.
“Yes, I am.”
“My name is Asukai Jin. I'm in charge of the national art school preparation course here. I've had my eye on you, Anou-kun.” He smiled gently.
“Why?” Shinjirou asked.
The man raised one eyebrow, as if joking. “You probably don't know.”
“Know what?”
“That you have absolutely no hope,” he said, calmly, but with a trace of sadness.
“What does that mean. . . ?” Shinjirou asked.
But the man didn't answer. He stood up, slowly turned his back, and whispered, “The man who played with your heart worked for the Towa Organization, correct?”
This word was implanted deep inside Shinjirou. The moment he heard it, his body moved automatically.
His lungs screamed at the sudden motion, but he ignored them, flinging his body towards the man.
Even though his back was turned, the man stepped lightly to one side, easily dodging Shinjirou's lunge.
Shinjirou's body was carried onwards, flying into the tables and chairs opposite.
There was a huge crashing sound.
Bleeding from several places, Shinjirou sprang to his feet again. There was no trace of emotion on his face.
His head turned, looking for the man.
The man did not run, but instead, he stood his ground.
“Hmph. . .” A cruel smile appeared on his lips.
Shinjirou -- or rather the body being controlled by implanted instructions launched himself towards the man again.
This time, he grabbed the man. He pushed him over, and tried to put one arm around his neck to strangle him.
But before he could, the man's hand reached out to Shinjirou's chest.
“--------!”
A moment later, Shinjirou's body suddenly bent over of its own accord, and flung itself backwards.
There was another tremendous crash.
“Pathetic. . .” the man said, unmoved. He stood up, and brushed the dust off his clothes.
He came over to where Shinjirou lay unable to move, and got down on his knees. He peered into the boy's face.
“What was that sound?”
“Asukai-san, what happened?”
Several other faculty members had come running.
“He fell over. Looks like anemia of the brain. . .” Asukai replied, helping Anou Shinjirou up, and over to a comfortable sofa, where he laid him down flat.
“Is he okay? Should I call an ambulance?”
“Better ask the manager. If he lies down for a minute. . . he should be okay, I think. . .” Asukai answered, well aware that an ambulance pulling up to the cram school was hardly a desirable event.
“W-wait right there, I'll go ask,” and the other teachers ran off.
Once again the lobby fell silent, if only for a short while.
“. . . . . . . . .” Asukai Jin slowly rubbed Anou Shinjirou's chest. “I've no idea of the true nature of your suffering, Anou-kun. But I promise you, your wordless pain will be buried when the snow falls in April. . . when the whiteness falls on all mankind,” he whispered kindly, yet firmly.
Behind him, floating in the air, a vision of a girl wavered.
***
When Shinjirou awoke, he was lying on a sofa at his cram school. His mother was sitting next to him, peering at his face with a worried expression. Apparently, someone had called her.
“Shin-chan, how do you feel?”
“. . . Umm. . . wh-where. . . ?”
“Cram school. You. . . you passed out,” his mother said.
He looked around him. Everything felt strange, like his eyes wouldn't quite focus.
“Cram school.. .” he got to his feet unsteadily. He stood there, looking puzzled.
“Should we go see a doctor?” his mother asked.
But he didn't appear to be seriously injured, so they simply headed straight home. They went for a checkup the next day, but the doctors found nothing amiss. For safe measure, they gave him a mild tranquilizer, and then just sent him home. The diagnosis was simply stress. He had been studying far too much.
“Thank goodness.”
“Yeah. . .”
“The test is pretty close, but you don't need to work too hard. The teachers all agree. . . you'll do fine.”
“Yeah. . .”
***
When they got home, Shinjirou did as the doctors had suggested and went to bed.
He awoke soon after, and stood up. He reached for his bag, untouched since he'd come home the day before, and emptied it out onto his bed. He planned to reorganize the contents by priority.
Text books, study guides, notes. . . and a letter he didn't remember getting.
“ . . . . . . . . . . . .”
As tempting as the letter was, he did not open it. He simply stood there, holding it in his fingers, looking off into nothing.
***
Two tall office buildings and a department store that housed a number of specialty shops had been piled on top of each other into one giant complex known as the Twin City. It was one of the many areas planned for during the redevelopment of the station area, and the only one completed yet.
On a daily basis, tens of thousands of people came here. Customers for the department store, businessmen with deals to be done -- they all flooded in and out of the building in a constant stream.
But once a month, on the third Wednesday, the department store would close for the day, and the place would be completely and utterly deserted. . . just a vast, empty space. The business hotel's rent was far too expensive, and it had hardly any tenants.
The roof of the department store was open to the eighth and ninth floors of the tenant buildings. This 'connection space' was also deserted that day. The department store was closed, but the elevators in the office buildings were operating, so the roof was still accessible. The game centers and yakisoba shops that catered to the passing businessmen were all closed, and nothing visited but the wind.
And still, this monthly void in the middle of the city was where the girl in the letter promised to meet Anou Shinjirou.
At four in the afternoon, the sun was already setting, painting the world red.
The elevator that on any other day stopped at nearly every floor took him directly to his destination.
“ . . . . . . . . . . . .”
There was a gust of wind as Shinjirou came onto the roof. It was always windy this high up, but today exceptionally so. One of the screens used to break the wind had come loose, and was flapping noisily, but there was nobody here to fix it.
“Um. . . hello?” Shinjirou looked around him, searching for signs of life. There was nobody there, no signs of anybody having been there.
The meeting spot was in the center of the rooftop, near some round, squarish, enigmatic sort o
f abstract sculptures. Shinjirou headed towards them.
Long shadows spread out like stripes across the floor. A girl was seated alone on one of the sculptures.
“You. . . you wrote the letter. . . ?”
“. . . . . . . . .” The girl nodded, silently. She wore a thick navy blue coat, and a thick wool hat. Her hair was bound in two braids, and she wore glasses.
He'd never seen her before.
“Um. . . so, what did that letter mean?” Shinjirou asked.
“ . . . .. .. . . . . .” She didn't answer. She just stared at the ground.
Shinjirou made no attempt to approach, stopping a good distance from her.
“I thought someone was making fun of me at first, but you're actually here. . .”
“ . . . . . . . . . . . .”
“But when did you put the letter in my bag? I don't remember leaving it lying around. . .”
“—What? “ The girl's face snapped up. For a moment, the setting sun glinted off her glasses. “What did you just say?” Her voice sounded more like a boy's.
“Huh?”
“You found the letter in your bag? That’s why you came here?”
“What about it?” Shinjirou stared at her blankly.
She suddenly yelled, “Look out” and dove towards Shinjirou, knocking him aside.
“Waaah -- !”
A moment later, something black and round cut through the air where Shinjirou had been standing.
The impact of its landing shook the roof, and then it stood up -- Spooky E.
The monstrous man had planned to crush Shinjirou on his dive. But he had failed.
“ . . . . . . . . . . . ?!”
Spooky E swung his fist towards the girl who had spotted his attack.
But his punch met only fabric -- the girl had tossed her coat, and was no longer there.
Instead, her hat and glasses spun in the air, falling to the floor of the roof.
Something like a thick black rope landed on top of them -- the braids that had emerged from under her hat. They were fake.
“What -- ?!” Spooky E yelled, stomping on the glasses and fake braids, glaring around him.
Boogiepop Returns VS Imaginator Part 1 Page 10
