Over the Dimension

by Jin (Shizen no Teki-P)

  The rolling wheels on my bag rattled as I kept going, eventually reaching the park Mr. Tateyama told me to watch for. Peeking over the low fence that surrounded it—amid the sandbox, the slide, the swings, and the rest of the playground equipment—I found a set of gymnastics bars with supports shaped like gorillas.

  The cuddly, lovable Bear-Rilla I created last night flashed into my mind. Once this festival was over, what was I even gonna do with all these characters? I’d have to think about that. After all the love I poured into them, it seemed a little sad for them to be forgotten without seeing the light of day again. Maybe I could make some character buttons out of their likeness and pass them around at school. That could work.

  Saying my goodbyes to the gorilla bars, I turned back toward the sidewalk. According to the directions I had, Mr. Tateyama’s house faced this park. I would’ve stopped to gain my bearings, but there were so few people around that I kept going as I sized up the homes around me.

  He described his house in word form only, but when I found it, there was no mistaking it. It had to be the place.

  “…Yeah, this is the only red brick house here, anyway.”

  Checking the nameplate by the gate, I saw that it read TATEYAMA. Without skipping a beat, I pushed the doorbell next to the front door. An electronic ding-dong played. I always had trouble with moments like these. It was so rare for me to visit other people’s houses that I couldn’t help but fidget around, my body looking for some kind of release from the tension in the air.

  But as I waited ten seconds…twenty seconds…thirty seconds, I didn’t get the impression anyone was coming to open the door.

  That’s weird. I’m pretty sure he told me the other night that he’d be late with some meetings, but that his daughter would come out to greet me instead.

  It seemed rude of me, but I chanced a peek through one of the front windows. It’d be one thing if the curtains were drawn, but if they weren’t, maybe I could see what was going on inside. Of course, as sunny as it was outside, I doubted I’d see much of anything through the glare.

  From my vantage point, I could see three windows upstairs, and on the first floor…

  …Someone’s there.

  At the window on the far right of the first floor, there was a figure, one resembling a young girl with long hair. She was staring straight at me.

  How long had she been looking at me? She had to be aware I was here, but she wasn’t moving an inch.

  “Ah…Ahhhhhh!”

  When I realized this, I screamed like I was in a horror-film scene and found myself falling right on my rear end. As the pain from my hips registered in my head, my panicked brain began to conjure up all kinds of horrifying scenarios. Who was that girl? Mr. Tateyama’s daughter? How come she didn’t answer the door, then? What’s with her?! Ooh, but she is his daughter. I’ve got to at least say hello to her. I can’t just sit here in front of his house forever. I should probably get up, at least…

  “…Whoa! She’s gone!”

  I had only taken my eyes off the window for a moment, right when I lost my balance. It couldn’t have even been a second. That was all it took for the frozen silhouette of the girl by the window to vanish without a trace. I could feel something shuddering in my chest, a sense of fear different from the jump scare before.

  Then I felt something vibrating in my pocket.

  “Aaaaagghhh!!”

  My senses were already on edge, so this little bout of whirring around my waist was all it took for me to scream once more. In terms of volume, it might’ve been even louder than before. The subsequent realization that it was my cell phone made me unbearably embarrassed. I really have to apologize to the neighbors for acting like such a freak.

  Checking the phone, I found a text from Mr. Tateyama waiting. Was he worried that I couldn’t find the place? Well, perfect. Now I could ask him why nobody was answering the door.

  I opened up the text, eagerly expecting some guidance on all this, but the content made me freeze in shock.

  “Just got a text from my daughter. I’m upstairs. The door’s open, so come on in.”

  …There was a lot I could have complained about here, but one overbearing question occupied my mind. If his daughter noticed me, how come she didn’t open the door?

  “…Does she hate me or something?”

  Oh, come on. We haven’t even met. That’s silly. As I silently chided myself, I pulled my overnight bag along.

  Turning back toward the window, I saw nobody on the other side. The natural conclusion was that I’d just had an encounter with Mr. Tateyama’s daughter. I wasn’t a fan of entering a house without someone showing me around, but if that was what he wanted from me, that was what he’d get.

  Rattling my way up to the front door, I took a deep breath and opened it.

  “Um, excuse me,” I called out to no one in particular. “My name’s Kokonose, and I’m one of Mr. Tateyama’s students. Uhh…I’m coming in, okay?”

  The inside of the house seemed a lot darker than the sun-bathed outdoors. I found a neat, well-furnished hallway extending before me. The word TOILET labeled a door to the side, and a stairway led upward. On the other side of the stairs was a door with a sign on it, leading to what I guessed was a child’s room. The door at the far end had a glass mosaic, which revealed the entrance to a brightly decorated living room.

  I waited for a while in the foyer, but nobody seemed to be coming. In the text, Mr. Tateyama had said he was upstairs.

  Might as well see what’s going on up there.

  I took off my shoes, picked up my bag, and pushed onward.

  As I did, I began to realize exactly how attractive this place really was. If you’d logged as much time in the school’s science storage room as I had, you’d know that “neatness” and “organization” were not Mr. Tateyama’s strong suits. His wife and daughter must have put in a dedicated effort to keep things this clean. If they didn’t—if this was all him—it really made me wish he cared about our classroom a little more.

  I walked up to the door by the stairway and paused. It had a KID’S ROOM sign, just like I’d figured. I was a little surprised I’d guessed right on the first shot. Judging by the house’s layout, the window that caught my attention earlier had to be in this room. Which meant she was, too.

  I thought for a moment about saying something, but opted against it, figuring I shouldn’t meddle. Then I climbed the stairs to the second floor. The hallway featured a large, stylishly decorated window and a much more wide-open floor plan than downstairs.

  Looking around a little, I realized that out of the many doors around me, the one on the far end was open. My fingers were starting to go a bit numb from holding my bag, so I headed right over. Gaining my first view of the room, I was frozen with fascination.

  “W-wow…”

  It was a room of books.

  Standing outside the door, I saw that the room, which had to be a good 250 square feet, was lined wall-to-wall with bookshelves, all filled to bursting. From a variety of language dictionaries typically found in bookshops to thick, leather-bound volumes that looked like a demon could pop out if opened, all the way to sheaves of loose-leaf paper tied up with string, it had nearly anything a person could think of. The sight of these brightly colored books running from the floor to the ceiling like wallpaper was nothing short of awe inspiring.

  I placed my bag on its side so the rollers wouldn’t mark up the floor and stepped into the book room. After one step, the scent of ink hit my nostrils. My heart leaped at the sensation. It was like walking into some magical kingdom. It was the first time I had seen so many books, so densely packed together.

  But the atmosphere of this room didn’t exactly scream “Mr. Tateyama.” My teacher would prefer a work space that was a little more…unkempt. Disorderly. Was this his wife’s office? With all these books at hand, did she work in a scientific research capacity or something? Mr. Tateyama never talked about his family much, so I couldn’t quite remember wh
at her career was.

  …Huh. Mr. Tateyama’s wife. What was she like, I wondered.

  I stood there, pondering this, when suddenly, darkness enshrouded the room.

  Just as I exclaimed “Huh?” in surprise, a solid-sounding ka-chunk echoed across the room. For a moment, I failed to comprehend what happened, but it didn’t take long to work it out. The door had just closed and locked.

  “Am…am I stuck in here?!”

  In a windowless room like this, simply closing the door was enough to plunge me into a world of darkness. Seeking a way out of this, I felt around with my hands, crawling across the floor. Without windows, it didn’t seem likely that a gust of wind had blown the door shut. And it was locked, too. I hadn’t spotted anyone in time, but someone must have done it deliberately.

  I looked at my surroundings, still on all fours. I had to at least figure out where the door was if I was going to get anywhere. Swiveling my head around, I finally noticed just the faintest sliver of light coming through a slit in the doorway. The light source was so dim, however, that I couldn’t figure out how far away it was. I didn’t want to bash my head against the door, so—very gingerly—I made my way toward the light.

  “S-somebody…!”

  I tried calling for help, but failed to come up with a very loud voice. I was always this way, but whenever I needed to shout or otherwise make myself heard, I just was never up to the task.

  Finally reaching the door, I knocked on it over and over again. There was no response.

  I sighed, the door behind my back, and slumped to the floor.

  Who did this? And why? I tried to at least pretend to think it over, but right now, only one potential suspect sprang to mind.

  That girl. Mr. Tateyama’s daughter.

  I still had no idea why, but I must have done something to ruffle her feathers. I didn’t mind her snubbing me earlier all that much, but to lock me in a room like this? That was kind of mean.

  Besides, I didn’t even know what I’d done wrong. Hating someone you’ve never even met struck me as kind of unfair. What was her motivation?

  I sat there for a while, anguishing over the question, when I heard footsteps.

  My body leaped up at the sudden visitor. Who is it? I hope it’s his wife, at least. I’ve got to get out of here!

  “Umm, excuse me!” I tried to shout. “Could you open this door?! I’m not an intruder or anything. Please!”

  The footsteps immediately stopped. Then, as if turning in place, they approached the book room I was in. It looked like I was getting out.

  But what if it was his daughter? If she locked me in here, it’d be weird for her to just let me free again. So was it his wife? I didn’t think she’d be home yet…

  Suddenly, I heard the ka-chunk from before again. I leaped away from the door just in time as it opened inward, only to find myself face-to-face with a young girl in pajamas. She rubbed her eyes, as if just waking up, her long black hair going off in odd directions here and there. She didn’t seem too much younger than I was. Was this his daughter after all?

  “God, will you just shut up?! What’re you going on about?! Besides, Dad said you shouldn’t go into…”

  The girl seemingly had every intention of chewing me out at first, but as she looked at me, she stopped, giving me an incredulous look.

  “Uh, Shuu…ya…?”

  “Sh-Shuuya…? What do you mean?”

  I all but cowered under her menacing glare.

  “Uh…,” she responded, freezing in place.

  So is this his daughter, or what…? It had to be, situationally speaking, but she didn’t quite seem to match up with the girl at the window before. That girl was partially silhouetted, but between the hair length and the facial structure, she looked…different from this.

  Plus, this girl…

  “Um…did I wake you up?” I asked.

  “I…,” the girl began, her face reddening. “I…ha-ha-ha…” Then, without warning, she ran off at full speed.

  “Huh?! Hey, wait…What’re you doing?!”

  Refusing to listen, the girl zoomed down the stairs with astonishing force.

  I jumped out of the room, hoping to chase her, but I found myself stopped by a boy’s scream from downstairs.

  A boy’s scream? Did Mr. Tateyama even have a son? I was growing rapidly unable to grasp all this. This girl, the one at the window, and a screaming boy…What was up with this house?

  As I gradually fell into a panic, the girl from before climbed back upstairs, panting heavily. Combined with the boy’s scream, I was starting to get seriously concerned for my safety. Despite that, she still plastered a smile on her face, her breathing labored.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting. You’re Kokonose, right? Dad told me about you. I’m sorry; I think someone’s been messing with my alarm clock…My siblings were pulling a prank on you, but I’ll be sure to yell at them about it later, so…”

  Messing with her alarm clock? Her siblings? …This was making even less sense than before. I had a mountain of questions to ask her, but I figured waiting until we calmed down a little would be advisable. For now, it was best to just leave it to one query. Keeping things in order is paramount at times like these.

  I coughed lightly, signaling the upcoming change in subject.

  “Um, my name’s Haruka Kokonose. You are…?”

  The girl gave me a blank look at first, then flashed me a smile—an authentic one this time.

  “I’m Ayano…Ayano Tateyama.”

  LOST DAYS · 3

  The upstairs room was warmed by the afternoon sunlight.

  Guided into a guest room—the “room you were supposed to be shown into,” as Ayano put it—I indulged in some warm tea. The bowl in the middle of the wooden table was lined with a selection of cookies, each one individually wrapped in exquisite fashion.

  Anything packaged like that had to be fancy. Better not wolf ’em down like I do with the full-size bags of chips I sometimes help myself to—that’s what I told myself, anyway. But man, these cookies tasted fabulous. I tried to stop myself, but it was a seemingly insurmountable task.

  So I started to talk about anything and everything, trying my hardest to occupy my mouth with something besides food.

  “Man, though, what a surprise! I had no idea Mr. Tateyama had four children…So was this ‘Shuuya’ kid the one who locked me in that room earlier?”

  “Yeah…,” said Ayano, sitting opposite me. “Pretty much. Oh, I don’t know how to apologize to you…” Then she bowed her head.

  Getting locked inside was a shock, to be sure, but I wasn’t hurt or anything, and I couldn’t drum up the will to get all angry about it. I mean, had I been angry about anything in my life so far? I really didn’t think so.

  “Ha-ha-ha! Oh, it’s fine, it’s fine. It was kind of like my own personal survival mission, in a way. I’ve never been locked into a room like that before, so it was sort of exciting, even!”

  “Uh? Survi…? Ah-ha-ha-ha…!”

  And so the conversation awkwardly continued.

  It had been about half an hour since my escape from the book room. Ayano had changed from her pajamas to a white dress with a beige cardigan on top. Taking another look at her made me realize that Ayano didn’t resemble Mr. Tateyama very much. From her hair to her dark eyes to her nose, I figured she must’ve taken after her mother’s side of the family.

  “I guess I’m the one who has to apologize, though—barging in like this so we can work on our school festival project…”

  “Oh, don’t worry about it! Dad almost never has students visit his home like this, so I’m kind of glad to see you. It can be a pretty lively place sometimes, so…”

  Ayano paused, staring into space for a moment.

  “It can be kind of dangerous, too,” she added, “but…”

  I had rarely been a houseguest, but still, I wasn’t expecting this kind of warning at our first meeting. Was she talking about more “pranks” from her siblings? Co
nsidering my experience in the library, that seemed plausible enough. Judging by how she’d looked when I first saw her, it seemed like they put Ayano through a hell of a lot of grief. Maybe they’re just in that awkward rebellious stage. As an only child, I found it kind of fascinating.

  “Hey, uh, do you think I could say hello to your siblings? I’m gonna be staying here for a few days, so I might as well introduce myself…”

  “Huh?! Uh, introduce yourself?! No! I mean, ummm…”

  My request seemed to unnerve Ayano in a rather oddly intense fashion. It was obviously pretty unwelcome. I figured saying hello wouldn’t cause any harm—but maybe there was some other reason why she didn’t want us to meet.

  Hmm. It piqued my interest. But this is family stuff I’m trying to meddle in. I can’t stick my nose in too far. Sparking family drama on my first day here would be kind of rude to Mr. Tateyama. Better change the subject.

  “Well, if I shouldn’t, then that’s just fine, too! Oh, wait…I almost forgot—I got you a little thank-you present for putting up with me. It’s reaaaaally yummy, too, so you can give it to your siblings if you like!”

  I opened up my bag, which I’d placed to the side, and took out a boxed German Baumkuchen cake I’d picked up. I bought two, actually, and ate one on the way here. It was exquisite. I was sure Ayano would love it.

  “Wha—?! This, this is from a really fancy place, isn’t it? …Oh, I really couldn’t!”

  “No, no, no,” I replied, halfway pushing the cake at her. “I mean, this really doesn’t cover what I owe you for letting me stay over anyway. Go right ahead.”