Episode 3

Sitting on the cold floor too long had left my body almost frozen stiff.

I hauled myself upright and found myself staring at the kitchen knife.
Looking at the light glinting off it, something in my chest quickened.

When will I finally find the courage to use this? No — I should have surrendered to my true feelings long ago. By now, my mother would already be gone.

The only thing stopping me was my own pathetic fear. My guilt.

Come back here when things get to be too much again.

Staring at the knife had brought the unwanted memory back.

Come to think of it — Fujishiro had said she’d keep my secret if I came back to the park…

Well. I needed to get outside, at least.

I eased the front door open and slipped out into the night.
Spring had arrived, but the air still carried a chill.
I walked the dark road I’d run down in anguish just the night before — and it looked different now.

This wasn’t the countryside, but it was late, and almost no one was about.

Nothing was chasing me, and yet my feet moved quickly on their own, and before I knew it I was standing at the small shrine park with its sparse trees and its quiet.

I hadn’t come because I believed her.

I’d come only to settle something inside myself.

I glanced into the shrine grounds — and blinked at what I saw. There were swings, and sitting on one of them, drifting back and forth, was a person.
The girl hopped off the swing the moment she spotted me, and came jogging over.

“You came——!”
“It’s the middle of the night. Keep your voice down.”
“I honestly didn’t think you would. Okay — as promised, I won’t tell anyone about yesterday.”

Even if the world found out I’d been carrying a weapon, it wouldn’t change anything about my pitch-black life. But if rumours started circulating at school — rumours about my strange behaviour — I’d lose even that last refuge. I’d be left with nowhere to go. That was the one thing I had to prevent.

The promise was fulfilled. That was all.
I had no desire to stay in the same space as Fujishiro any longer, and started toward the shrine gate.

“Wait, wait. Let’s talk a little.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. And I came here like you asked, so from now on — at school or anywhere else — stay away from me.”
“Just wait.”

Her hand clamped around my arm, and I couldn’t move.

“I won’t talk to you at school, I promise. So let me have this, here — okay?”
“……Fine. But what would we even talk about?”
“Did you think it over? What I said yesterday?”
“Yesterday?”
“Killing me.”
“Rejected.”
“You could at least consider it a little. Did you not bring it today?”
“No.”
“Hmm. So it was just a toy after all.”

Something snapped inside my head.

Why did every single person around me say whatever they liked, without a moment’s thought?

I shoved her down onto the open ground beside the swings and pinned her beneath me. Fujishiro didn’t resist at all — she went down easily, her back flat against the earth.

I wrapped both hands around her throat and squeezed.

“Even without a knife, it would be easy——”

I was staring down at her with eyes that were cold and ruthless even by my own reckoning.

It was meant to be a bluff. Nothing more.

But things moved in a direction I hadn’t anticipated.

Fujishiro was looking up at me with the most radiant smile I’d ever seen — and eyes that were completely empty.

A chill ran down my spine.

Something close to a shudder.

At school, Fujishiro was a picture-perfect human being. Even I, who’d barely interacted with her, could tell she was performing a constructed version of herself. Every moment, a performance.

But right now — not a trace of it.

Instead, she was showing me the kind of smile that only escapes when someone is genuinely, truly happy.

Her cheeks had gone pink. Her mouth had softened. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and unfocused. That face looking up at me — it loosened the force in my hands.

“Fujishiro, you’re completely deranged.”
“Whatever, just hurry up and do it properly.”
“Something is seriously wrong with you.”

I decided I’d had enough of being pulled into her current, and moved to get off her — but her hand shot up and grabbed my arm. With astonishing strength, at that.

“So you can’t do it again, even though you said you could?”

Fujishiro’s talent for provocation had surfaced.

Don’t take the bait, I told myself.

“I don’t happen to feel murderous toward people who are just plain weird.”
“Oh, come on, that’s boring.”

Her tone had gone flat with something like resignation — but her grip on my arm showed no sign of loosening. She was still scheming something.

“Hey, hey. Morishita-san — close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Just do it.”

I had no reason to follow her instructions. And yet, in that moment, I did.

As I closed my eyes, my vision went completely dark.

“Now — keep them closed, and bring to mind whoever it is you want to kill.”

I almost said what? — but before I could, my mother’s face surfaced in my head unbidden. The face from earlier tonight.

I worked part-time for my mother’s sake. I went hungry rather than buy the food I actually wanted.

I didn’t resent her for it. But somewhere deep inside me, I was still hoping — still hoping she would hold me the way she used to, tell me thank you for working so hard, tell me you’re all I have—

I wanted her to really see me.

I understood that I was a nuisance to her.
I knew, on some level, that being loved by her again was never going to happen.

My head knew it. And yet I kept expecting something from her — and she kept proving me wrong.

Something aching and vast was rising inside my chest.
No — it was already spilling over.

I hate her……
No matter how hard I try, why am I never rewarded for any of it.

“Mo… rishita……”

I snapped back and opened my eyes.
In front of me, Fujishiro was coughing roughly.

What had I been about to do……?

The worst. I was the absolute worst.
I had layered my mother over Fujishiro, and I had been doing something unforgivable.

I moved to take my hands away — and sure enough, she grabbed my arm again and wouldn’t let go. And the look on her face was even more unhinged than before.

“Hey, squeeze me tighter.”
“That’s disgusting. Go find someone else for that.”

When I said it coldly and flatly, she finally released me. I stood up and put distance between us quickly.

Fujishiro stood too, brushing the dirt from her back.

I had done something awful and I couldn’t bring myself to apologise. The wretchedness of that — my own inadequacy — made it harder to breathe.

“Hey, hey, Morishita-san. Let’s chat a bit. You’ve got nothing better to do, have you?”
“So what are we going to talk about?”
“Just small talk.”
“That makes no sense.”

It made no sense — and yet she took my hand and pulled.

Today, Fujishiro’s hand was warm.
And unlike yesterday — that fragile, about-to-vanish quality — I couldn’t feel it in her at all.

Yesterday her hands had been like a dead person’s. The girl standing here now felt like someone completely different.

I was still vaguely turning that over in my mind when I found myself being led to a bench.

The strange back-and-forth between us had gone on long enough that my body had grown quite cold. Fujishiro had a coat on, but she was shivering too.

“You know, Morishita-san — I don’t think you’re capable of killing anyone.”
“Stop deciding things about people on your own. And drop the -san.”
“Mei……”

My given name, said without warning. Something stirred deep in my chest.

“Don’t call me by my name.”
“You really do have a lot of demands.”
“Shut up.”
“Okay, okay. Morishita, then.”

Fujishiro spoke with an air of great amusement.
I couldn’t make sense of anything she did or why.

The question pushed its way out before I could stop it.

“……Why do you keep bothering with me?”

Fujishiro had friends in abundance and everything anyone could want. I couldn’t find a single reason why she’d be fixated on someone like me.

“Hmm — you look frail but you act tough. All skinny with just a little height on me, looks like you’d even lose to me in a fight. That’s what caught my attention.”
“What——!”

First impression of Fujishiro: completely unhinged.
Current impression of Fujishiro: infuriating.

And that wasn’t a reason for bothering with me at all — it was just an insult.

Everything about her, every word and every action, grated on me the moment it entered my awareness. Not quite murderous intent, but something close to hatred rising up inside me.

I was about to snap back when her hand caught my wrist.

“If you want to kill someone, you need to eat properly first.”
“Excuse me? That’s none of your business, Fujishiro.”

What insufferable meddling.

She didn’t know anything about me — this was surely just pity. Or so I thought, but apparently not.

Fujishiro’s eyes were sparkling as she looked at me.

“I need you to build up your strength and muscle — so I can have you kill me!”
“You are genuinely unhinged.”
“You’ve been nothing but rude to a cute girl this whole time, you know!”

Fujishiro puffed her cheeks out in indignation, her expression going briefly childlike. Seeing it, something soft and light rose in my chest for just a moment.

Cute suited her, probably.

It was an aura I didn’t possess.

If even someone as indifferent to other people as me could think that, then everyone else must think it far more strongly.

Brilliant grades, capable of anything, popular at school — what on earth did she have to complain about.

I was still thinking about Fujishiro despite not wanting to when she started humming to herself.

That was when it sank in again, freshly — I was being pestered by someone who was genuinely not right in the head. I wanted to escape, but Fujishiro gave me no opening.

“Here, have this.”

I couldn’t imagine what — but what was held out to me was a white lump of rice wrapped in cling film.

White rice……?

“What is this?”
“A rice ball.”
“What do you mean?”
“I already said. I need you to build up your strength for me.”
“Are you an idiot?”

I must have been staring at her with a look of complete exasperation.

The way she spoke was so comical, I couldn’t tell what she was actually trying to accomplish.

One moment she wanted me to kill her, now she wanted me to eat a rice ball she’d brought?

Was there poison in it?

“I don’t want it.”
“I made it for you, so eat it. If you don’t want it, throw it away.”
“What……”

Fujishiro was stubborn and didn’t seem inclined to give up.

This was enormously tedious.
The sooner it was over and done with, the sooner I could go home.

I gave in, and peeled back the cling film.

The rice ball was about as cold as my hands. I took a bite.

The moment the cold mass spread across my tongue, my body reflexively tried to spit it out — but I clamped my hand over my mouth and forced it down.

“That’s so salty! What is going on with this?!”
“Oh no — was it a failure after all?”

Failure was an understatement. I couldn’t fathom how a salted rice ball could end up like this. This was the equivalent of licking pure salt directly. How she’d managed to hand it to another person without tasting it first was beyond comprehension.

“Try it yourself.”

I held out the rice ball I’d bitten — the bitten side toward her. Her eyebrow twitched ever so slightly.

Maybe she was the type who didn’t like sharing food.

I flipped it around and offered the untouched side instead.

The girl sitting beside me leaned her whole face toward it. The gesture of tucking her hair behind her ear carried an effortless allure that seemed too knowing for her age.

Her soft, slightly parted lips opened, a neatly shaped canine tooth caught the light, and a clean white bite of rice ball disappeared inside.

“Ugh……so this is culinary art……”
“This is completely inedible.”

Something nagged at me then.

Something from the lunch break today.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a good cook, Fujishiro?”
“That rumour has spread to other classes?”

Fujishiro frowned — something she rarely did — and her already pale face went a shade paler, closer to white.

“I happened to hear it when I was walking past in the corridor today.”
“I… see……”

The carefree brightness drained out of her suddenly, and an odd, uncomfortable feeling settled between us.

My stomach was already queasy from having brought everything up earlier because of my mother, and now this thing I’d eaten was making it feel like my insides might give out entirely.

In my hand was the white lump of rice, now misshapen from where both of us had bitten into it.

More misshapen than that lopsided rice ball was Fujishiro.
And more misshapen than that lopsided Fujishiro was me.

Three misshapen things had ended up in the same place.

“Look at this.”

Fujishiro’s voice had a quality like she was suppressing a tremor.

What she showed me was a photo of a bento — colourful, carefully arranged, and somehow faintly strange. But it looked delicious, and my stomach gave a long, drawn-out clench in response.

My stomach apparently hadn’t broken after all. Given something that actually looked good, it still wanted it.

“Showing me something delicious right after making me eat something awful — is that harassment?”
“This is just convenience store side dishes, bought separately and packed together. And I’ve been telling everyone I made it myself.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Are you disappointed in me? That’s why — the me that everyone says is so amazing isn’t really me.”

She was wearing a sad face now.
Fujishiro was tedious beyond measure, no matter where you looked.

But the Fujishiro I’d felt jealousy and hatred toward earlier today — that one was the fabrication. The Fujishiro in front of me now was apparently the real one.

“I’m not disappointed in you. I don’t feel anything about you.”

She didn’t interest me.
Whether the Fujishiro in front of me right now was the true version or another false one had nothing to do with me.

But Fujishiro’s eyes went wide. And then, almost immediately, her expression softened into something like a smile.

“Ha——! Morishita, you really are something else.”

Fujishiro leaned lightly against me. We were both bundled up in thick clothes, so I shouldn’t have been able to feel anything — and yet I had the sense of her warmth passing through from her shoulder into mine. But that too was irritating, so I pushed her back.

“You’re suffocating. And learn to make your own bento.”
“Can Morishita cook, then, if she’s saying that?”
“No.”
“Then you can’t talk.”
“I just can’t comprehend having the nerve to lie to people to show off. Isn’t that exhausting?”

Fujishiro’s mouth fell open.

I didn’t need to understand why she went to such lengths to keep up the pretence — but just imagining her state of mind was enough to make me tired on her behalf.

“Hey hey. Morishita — are you free right now?”
“If I weren’t free, I wouldn’t be out here at this hour.”

It was ten at night.
Late enough to be picked up by the police.

“Then come help me with something. Come cook with me.”
“What? I thought you couldn’t cook.”
“That’s why I need practice. Come with me.”
“I have absolutely no reason to.”
“I’ll tell people about the knife~?”
“You’re the worst.”
“Great, it’s settled then——!”

I hadn’t agreed to anything, but she was already pulling at my hand.

I shook her off once, sharply, and looked down at the misshapen lump of rice still in my hand.

Terrible flavour, terrible appearance — just like me, with nothing going for it….

I squeezed it, coaxing it into something closer to a shape, then tossed it into my mouth.
The cold of it hit first, and then the salt — brutal, overwhelming. The texture spread across my tongue like grit, like biting into wet sand.

Truly a work of art.

The taste was so aggressively bad that, apparently, my mouth had curved upward without my permission. I hastily arranged my face into a neutral expression and looked toward where I felt eyes on me.

I’d been worried that whatever expression I’d made looked unhinged — but Fujishiro was staring at me with such a completely vacant, stupefied look that it struck me as funny instead.

“What’s with that idiotic face.”
“You know what, Morishita — I don’t think you’re cut out for killing people.”
“Eating a rice ball disqualifies you from fighting?”

Ridiculous logic. If anything, she was the one who’d said I needed to eat up and get stronger.
What an absurd thought to be having.

“You can’t even call that a rice ball, can you?”
“You know it yourself, then.”

I didn’t know why I’d gone out of my way to eat the thing either.

I supposed I’d felt sorry for it — this lopsided, sorry excuse for a rice ball. The same way I’d felt sorry for Fujishiro, who apparently couldn’t make anything that wasn’t lopsided.

I crumpled the plastic wrap into a ball and stuffed it in my pocket.