house was now completely abandoned.
I knew Kotobuki was grasping at straws, thinking that if she came here, maybe she would discover something. But the bleak sight that assaulted us eradicated even that paltry hope. The mail cascading out of the mailbox had been exposed to the weather and grown tattered, and the glass in one of the windows facing the yard was broken. In the midst of a perfectly ordinary neighborhood, this was the only house that stood like a graveyard.
Kotobuki took unsteady steps through the front gate and rang the doorbell.
There was no answer.
Next she pounded on the door with a fist—again and again, gritting her teeth, tears beading at the corners of her eyes.
Still she didn’t hear the voice she’d hoped to from behind the door.
“Forget it. You’re going to hurt your hands.”
I grabbed her hands from behind to stop her. My own heart felt like it was ripping apart.
At the same time, the word hypocrite tumbled through my mind and threatened to knock me to the ground.
Kotobuki turned her back on me, hung her head, and wept softly.
Kotobuki was silent until she got home.
She stopped in front of a three-story building and murmured, her voice barely audible, “This is it.” There was a sign for a dry cleaner’s store on the first floor.
“So your family are dry cleaners, huh?”
She nodded and again murmured, “My grandma does it.” She had stopped crying at least, but her eyes were bright red and she was sniffling.
“Is it okay that you’re so late coming home?”
“It’s fine. Um…I’m—I’m sorry about what happened,” she said, her voice hoarse, and then she went up the stairs to the second floor.
She looked down at me from there with a terribly fragile expression.
She looked like she wanted to say something, but she didn’t say it. Her face fell slightly, and she disappeared behind the door.
The instant our eyes met, I thought I saw guilt surface in Kotobuki’s face.
That feeling swirled around inside me in a pitch-black mass and made it hard for me to breathe.
“You’re both hypocrites.”
“You hate getting dirty, so even though you don’t feel that way at all, you act nice and build up expectations.”
It happened just as I was starting to walk down the dark, freezing road to go home.
I saw the shadow of a person standing on the other side of the street. It looked like he was staring at the door Kotobuki had just disappeared behind.
The clouds covering the sky broke, and moonlight illuminated his profile for just an instant.
Omi?!
Just as I was trying to get another look, the shadow turned its back and started walking.
I followed quickly after him. That was Omi, wasn’t it? What was he doing there? Had he been following us?
At that thought, the hair on my back stood on end and a chill came up through my legs.
The shadow walked steadily on.
Following him, my own steps grew quicker. My breathing became strained, and I panted more. My warm, cloudy white breath caressed my cold cheeks.
Before I realized it, I was standing frozen in a pitch-dark alley that the light of the streetlamps didn’t reach.
The shadow became one with the darkness, and I couldn’t find a shape that looked like Omi anywhere.
No—but I was sure he had turned this corner! Where did he disappear to?!
In my confusion, I heard a sudden, furtive singing.
It was a low voice that sounded like it was weeping.
A voice like a ghost’s filled with bitterness and sorrow.
What the—?! Where was this voice coming from?! In front of me? No, behind me? No, from over there? No, it wasn’t there—it was from over there. No, not there, either!
The voice seemed to be echoing from every direction, one after another, and gripped by the terror that was crawling up my spine, I stood frozen.
Hadn’t there been a scene like this in Phantom of the Opera ?
Raoul, who had gone into the shadowy kingdom below the opera house to rescue Christine, is bewildered by the illusions
I knew Kotobuki was grasping at straws, thinking that if she came here, maybe she would discover something. But the bleak sight that assaulted us eradicated even that paltry hope. The mail cascading out of the mailbox had been exposed to the weather and grown tattered, and the glass in one of the windows facing the yard was broken. In the midst of a perfectly ordinary neighborhood, this was the only house that stood like a graveyard.
Kotobuki took unsteady steps through the front gate and rang the doorbell.
There was no answer.
Next she pounded on the door with a fist—again and again, gritting her teeth, tears beading at the corners of her eyes.
Still she didn’t hear the voice she’d hoped to from behind the door.
“Forget it. You’re going to hurt your hands.”
I grabbed her hands from behind to stop her. My own heart felt like it was ripping apart.
At the same time, the word hypocrite tumbled through my mind and threatened to knock me to the ground.
Kotobuki turned her back on me, hung her head, and wept softly.
Kotobuki was silent until she got home.
She stopped in front of a three-story building and murmured, her voice barely audible, “This is it.” There was a sign for a dry cleaner’s store on the first floor.
“So your family are dry cleaners, huh?”
She nodded and again murmured, “My grandma does it.” She had stopped crying at least, but her eyes were bright red and she was sniffling.
“Is it okay that you’re so late coming home?”
“It’s fine. Um…I’m—I’m sorry about what happened,” she said, her voice hoarse, and then she went up the stairs to the second floor.
She looked down at me from there with a terribly fragile expression.
She looked like she wanted to say something, but she didn’t say it. Her face fell slightly, and she disappeared behind the door.
The instant our eyes met, I thought I saw guilt surface in Kotobuki’s face.
That feeling swirled around inside me in a pitch-black mass and made it hard for me to breathe.
“You’re both hypocrites.”
“You hate getting dirty, so even though you don’t feel that way at all, you act nice and build up expectations.”
It happened just as I was starting to walk down the dark, freezing road to go home.
I saw the shadow of a person standing on the other side of the street. It looked like he was staring at the door Kotobuki had just disappeared behind.
The clouds covering the sky broke, and moonlight illuminated his profile for just an instant.
Omi?!
Just as I was trying to get another look, the shadow turned its back and started walking.
I followed quickly after him. That was Omi, wasn’t it? What was he doing there? Had he been following us?
At that thought, the hair on my back stood on end and a chill came up through my legs.
The shadow walked steadily on.
Following him, my own steps grew quicker. My breathing became strained, and I panted more. My warm, cloudy white breath caressed my cold cheeks.
Before I realized it, I was standing frozen in a pitch-dark alley that the light of the streetlamps didn’t reach.
The shadow became one with the darkness, and I couldn’t find a shape that looked like Omi anywhere.
No—but I was sure he had turned this corner! Where did he disappear to?!
In my confusion, I heard a sudden, furtive singing.
It was a low voice that sounded like it was weeping.
A voice like a ghost’s filled with bitterness and sorrow.
What the—?! Where was this voice coming from?! In front of me? No, behind me? No, from over there? No, it wasn’t there—it was from over there. No, not there, either!
The voice seemed to be echoing from every direction, one after another, and gripped by the terror that was crawling up my spine, I stood frozen.
Hadn’t there been a scene like this in Phantom of the Opera ?
Raoul, who had gone into the shadowy kingdom below the opera house to rescue Christine, is bewildered by the illusions
Similar Books
