#light novel translations

[symphonicscans]

Fujimi Orchestra - Wandering Violinist (Book 2, Part 1)

Author: Akizuki Koh   Illustrator: Keiko Nishi (Read Book 1 Here)

Content Warning! 18+ Yaoi/BL/Soft Noncon This volume doesn’t have rape per say, but there are references to what happened in the first volume, so just in case I’m still providing a warning. Nothing is super explicit. Also, if you want to start with this book there is plenty of recap throughout the book to catch you up on characters and situations.

And we’re onto book 2! This book also has two parts, so hopefully I’ll have the second done in the next few weeks.  If you want to read on Google Docs: https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vSuh6ZZf--fQVn8mkSKkovlnZgIfKcD0vL1dmNRBBo2xVNMPw3EHBpNChs0vW4zq5qymXWQcZsvZmib/pub#ftnt1

Part I : Wandering Violinist

I have no apartment… no roost… not for tonight. I looked around in the hot and humid summer night; I couldn't even mumble because I was completely stunned by the situation. If I had to guess at the statistics, I’d say that the Fujimi-cho neighborhood -- where 80% of the residents live in apartments -- is like a ghost-town every year around this time. This is because there are many brave people who insist that they celebrate the ‘Bon Festival in my hometown,’ undeterred by the hustle and bustle of expensive flight tickets or the hellish rush to return home. It kills two birds with one stone: they make their dutiful family trip, and they don’t have to pay for accommodations when they get there. 

Actually, I — Yuuki Morimura — was one of those people. The reason I say ‘was’ is because I had just returned to my dear home-town after a two year absence on one such obligatory trip. I’m 23 years old and a music instructor at a public high school, as well as a violinist and concertmaster of the Fujimi Citizen’s Philharmonic, also known as the ‘Ni-chome Philharmonic’ or just ‘Fujimi.’ I seem to be considered a quiet and serious person because of the glasses I’ve worn since junior high, and often mistaken as younger than my age thanks to my slim body and feminine face (that I’m not so pleased with); I actually think I’m a pretty assertive person. I moved to Tokyo for music school, and then Fujimi-cho, which has become my second home ever since. 

Since my mother passed away, Fujimi feels even more like my second home. So as I returned from my three-day ‘homecoming’ trip and smelled the familiar scents of Fujimi, I breathed a deep sigh of relief. I arrived before Fujimi’s rehearsal day, just after nine o’clock in the evening. Many of the shops in Fujimi Ginza around the small train station were already closed, each shutter with a sign on the door that said they were closed for tomorrow’s Obon holiday; well, as far as the rest of the country is concerned, tomorrow is the real Obon holiday. I took advantage of the fact that I work at a school with summer vacation to beat the rush of people returning home. This was always my trick that I used in the summer when I would go back home to the country. I would take care of my obligations before the proper Bon Festival and spend the three days when Fujimi-cho was quiet, playing the violin in my empty apartment building. It was the only thing I enjoyed in the summer, as I don’t have any other hobbies.

Now the steel frame of the building was exposed to the sky, and underneath my feet was rubble that seemed to be made from the collapsed walls, along with black trash that must have been furniture. I had entered the alley and turned the corner as usual, and saw the scene that was now in front of me; it was a total loss fire. Both my building and the one on the other side of mine were at least 80% burnt down. I scratched my head and turned to the right. The liquor store on the corner was still open.

“Excuse me, good evening!” A lady came out while using a fan. She looked me up and down and made a sympathetic face. “Ah, the Miyajima apartment building over there burned down yesterday evening, I heard about it on the NHK news,” she said.

“I didn’t hear anything about it, I was back at my parents’ house.”

“Oh, you lived there?” The woman scratched her cauliflower-like permed head with the handle of her fan, probably because she was uncomfortable dealing with a person she didn’t know. “That’s terrible. The fire spread quickly and the firefighters didn’t show up for a while because it was right in the middle of rush hour, you know.”

“Um, did anybody...die?” 

“It was a blessing that you weren’t there, the people who were left were burnt to a crisp. They were all dead by the time the firemen got there.”

“I see…”

“I heard it started from tempura oil. Yamamoto-san on the first floor was the origin of the fire. His wife always looked very careless.”

“Ah...Thank you,” the lady seemed like she wanted to keep talking, but I hadn’t recovered enough from the first round of information to keep up with more rumors. I bowed my head and left the store. The only question for now was where I could sleep tonight… I wondered if there were any hotels in this town. I remembered seeing a few love hotels, but as I walked towards the station I realized I needed to find something else: money. I didn’t have any. 

I put down my travel bag and violin under the streetlight and checked my wallet. No matter how many times I counted it, there was only 3,000 yen. Naturally I didn’t have much left, since I had given most of my money to my sister when I left my parents’ house. It was only fair since I stayed for three days at the place she was living with four children and a husband on the salary of a civil servant, while also maintaining a large country house and fields. I wanted to be considerate, and also make a small gesture since I was now a salaried employee, so I left her with enough money for a meal. But now…

“The bank won’t be closed even on Bon holidays,” I said to myself. No — tomorrow is Saturday! No, wait, I can still withdraw money, my card is in my wallet. So in the morning I can get money. I picked up my bag and case, which was now all I had to my name, and started walking. Oh yeah, my scores, my CD player, the CDs themselves, my clothes, my wardrobe, my futon, my toaster… all burned. Everything, everything…! I was hit with the sound of an oncoming car and rushed to get out of the way. As I looked at the red glow of the receding tail lights, I thought of the word ‘penniless.’ I have a violin, an ATM card, and a few clothes for the time being, so I’m not completely broke, but I’d be grateful if I could at least talk to Ishida-san, the caretaker of Fujimi, who I know I could rely on. But he’s on his usual week-long summer vacation. His whole family left for Hokkaido in the country on the same day that I left, and of course his coffee shop Mozart is also closed.

There were only two other members of the orchestra who knew where I lived: Natsuko Kawashima, a flutist, and the conductor, Tounoin. I had been in love with Kawashima for three years, even proposed to her, but we finally settled as friends in the orchestra. And Tounoin… well, I thought about going to him. He would be more than willing to let me stay, but that ‘willingness’ was the problem. He was gay, fell in love with me, and raped me — though the rape was an accident, as Tounoin had thought I was also gay and that I wanted to have sex with him. I respect Tounoin as a genius conductor, and I also think he’s a very good man, as he was willing to give up his affections towards me and not bring that kind of trouble into our relationship as musicians. 

That’s why… I don’t think I should go to his place to stay. No matter how much help he offers or how strong his willpower is, I don’t want to give him the opportunity to spoil me. He’s a human being too, and you never know when his self-control might slip… I don’t want to ruin the friendship we’ve established. I couldn’t impose on him like that, but I also couldn’t think of anywhere else that would let me stay. The list of Fujimi members and school staff had burned to ash in the fire, and there were a lot of people that I couldn’t remember their full names to look them up in the phone book.

I was flipping through the pages of the city phone book, trying to find a hotel, when I heard the sound of rain. It started raining. Then it was pouring. It seems like bad luck was following me like a bad smell. I took out ten yen from my wallet and picked up the phone.

“Hello, do you have any rooms available? Yes, for tonight. Oh, that’s great. Where are you located?” I thanked them, hung up the phone and wondered out loud, “Yeah, that’s pretty far. The cab fare alone would wipe out all my money. I wonder if they would let me stay without a deposit?”

I heard a noise and looked outside. A soaking wet businessman was waiting, so I opened the phone booth and said, “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” and dashed under the eaves of a building to avoid getting wet. I hurriedly wiped the drops of water from my violin case. I decided to wait for the rain to let up and then walk to the hotel; since I only had 3,000 yen I really couldn’t spend it on the cab. But the evening downpour, which I assumed would stop if I waited it out, did not let up even after an hour. I waved my hand at the approaching lights of an empty cab and repeatedly counted the contents of my wallet in my head.

---

After going through 5 other hotels, the sixth hotel receptionist — my last ray of hope in the whole town — was a gentle, motherly woman with a pleasant appearance and tone of voice… “Oh, that’s the thing, isn’t it?”

I said quickly, “I have an ATM card, so if the bank is open tomorrow morning, I promise I can get the money! I know you have a rule that you have to pay in advance, but I won’t cause any trouble!” Needless to say, I’m not very good at this kind of negotiation. But there was nothing else I could do. I was so embarrassed that my forehead broke out in a cold sweat, but I persisted desperately. “I’m begging you. I can’t stay out in the open in this rain!” The woman, who seemed to be going through hardship of her own, looked down with a troubled expression. ‘One more push,’ I thought.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but if there’s any way…”

“Well, let me have your driver’s license.”

“Oh, that’s —“ I was sure that I had finally found a solution. “I don’t have it.”

“You don’t have a driver’s license?” It was heart-wrenching to see her face, which had finally softened somewhat, switch back into cold rejection.

“...my insurance card was burned. But..!” I pulled my ATM card out of my drenched back pocket. “I’ll leave this with you!”

The woman shook her head apologetically. “That doesn’t prove your identity, does it?”

“But if you look up my card number…”

“Can you prove it’s yours?” I was about to open my mouth to argue against her rude suspicion when the sound of rain started up again.

The easy-going face of welcome had turned into a cruel mask when she looked back at me. She said quietly, “Anyway, we don’t accept single guests.” Basically, I was interfering with their business, so get out of here.

“Ah, I see. Thank you.” Apparently this is the way the city is. I thought I could handle the love-hotel atmosphere, but I was naive. I gave the guests that had entered behind me some space so I wouldn’t have to look at them, but it seemed to be an unnecessary precaution.

“Oh, let’s take this room!” I heard the excited girl’s voice behind me as I walked out, not feeling the least bit guilty about being in a love hotel. This was the last of my hotel choices, and I had run out of ideas. I wondered if the heavens had come to regret their cruelty to me, as it was raining lightly when I went outside. But the situation wasn’t any better just because the rain was lighter.

“Police, maybe?” I had heard of something called ‘tiger boxes’ that were used to protect drunks, but I wondered if they would have anything for a lodger like me. ‘It’s all so bad!’ I thought, but that was the only option I could think of at this point. However, the police station was behind the Fujimi train station, which took me 20 minutes to get there by car, and now I had to walk back... “I’ve got 820 yen in my pocket, so I have no other choice.”

The problem was the violin, which could not get wet. I decided to put it in my travel bag, and used my summer jacket as a furoshiki for my overflowing clothes. I walked out into the rain, which was cold on my already soaking body. There was nothing else I could do.

—

“Achoo!” I sneezed, waking up. I was greeted by masculine-smelling air and unnecessary air conditioning. It seemed that I had caught a cold. I put my glasses on and looked at the round clock on the wall; it was barely 7am… I had stumbled into this police station a little after two in the morning, managed to get them to understand my situation, and they let me stay in the dormitory nap room.

“Achoo!” I guess it’s time for me to leave. After all, the air conditioning was too cold in here. I folded the blanket I had borrowed and left the dormitory room. I looked around for the middle-aged policeman that had helped me earlier, but maybe his shift had ended. I turned around and saw a policeman who looked younger than me.

“Oh, you must be Morimura-san.”

“Yes, I was staying here. Thanks to you, I was saved. This is for the person who helped me last night,” I offered him a box of sweets that my sister had given me to take home, “It’s a little wet from the rain, but inside is manju.”

“Oh no, that’s too much.”

“No, I’m really grateful.” As I was saying this, my nose started to itch again. I sneezed and bowed.

The city was already hot and humid, so I was grateful for the chills that were creeping into my body. I bought the cheapest lunch at a convenience store in the middle of the street and headed for the bank. It was 7:24am on August 13th, and in 30 minutes I would be able to say goodbye to the miserable feeling of having just 500 yen in my pocket. But I didn’t know… I didn’t know that today is the day the door of hell would be flung open.

It’s hot… the cicadas are so noisy. And… there was no money. The lack of money I thought I had was extremely shocking, there must have been some mistake. I’m sure it was just some small clerical error, like a paycheck failing to transfer. I did buy a new suit for the school year and paid for it in one lump sum with my bonus, but that should have gone through in July… but the ‘balance of 2,637 yen’ on the statement the cashier spit out was an unquestionable fact from the employee that was working that Saturday. He told me to come back on Monday for more details. The bank book, which was supposed to be a clue to solve my money question, had been reduced to ashes along with my personal seal and ID card. And the only thing that could guarantee that I am Yuuki Morimura was an ATM card, which could be stolen or picked up…

If it had been the bank where Kawashima-san worked, she probably would have taken care of it. Fujimi’s most beautiful flutist, Natsuko Kawashima, who had rejected my desperate proposal, was the type of person who would be strong in an emergency situation like this. But she’s not here, and anyway as a man I couldn’t just go to my girlfriend’s workplace and cry to her. For an hour I was at a loss for what to do, wondering what the hell I did to deserve this, envying the heavens and cursing my fate. Maybe I was stupid to have left with only my violin and a few changes of clothes. But! I had taken proper precautions against fire, and I was only gone for three days. Usually you don’t have to think about the possibility of your apartment burning down in such a short amount of time. 

The sun was shining on the benches, and shadows stretched out over the ground. I was craving grilled fish… but what was I supposed to do now, when it’s two more days until Ishida-san comes back? I was able to withdraw 2,000 yen from my credit card, but with a grand total of 2,511 yen it was barely anything. I pulled out the notepad I kept in my pocket. I knew I had only Mozart, Kawashima-san’s house, and the number of the school staff room written down. The school was closed for the Bon holiday and there was no answer on the phone. Kawashima-san was the only one who could help me. But… I said to myself, ‘Is it really worth it to go through all this?’ Of course, I wanted to just wait it out, but if I had to… if I did, I’d have to stay out in the open for two more nights. The policeman last night was kind enough to help me, but the way he acted made it clear that the police were not a hotel, and I was already feeling sick from my search for shelter in the rain. My pride as a man wouldn’t let me rely on Tounoin. 

As I soothed my dry throat with lukewarm water from the park fountain, I made up my mind. By the time I found a phone booth, I had sweated out more than I had drunk. I wondered if Kawashima-san would be at work or if she was off? In this case, I could barely spare even ten yen. In a desperate mood, I figured that she would have gone to work, so I looked up the number of her workplace in the Town Pages, which I was grateful to have even if it was in tatters.

The reply on the other end of the line was, “Kawashima-san is off today.”

I took my wallet out again… oh, ten-yen coins, you are valuable after all. I dialed her home number, and the voice that answered was that of a mother.

“I’m Morimura of the Fujimi Philharmonic. Is Natsuko-san at home?”

“Ah, the concertmaster. Thank you for always taking care of my daughter,” said the warm voice. I felt the dark clouds in my chest clear. Thank God. 

“Oh, of course. So, where is Natsuko-san?”

“This morning she went scuba diving in Izu with a friend. She’ll be back the night of the 15th.”

I couldn’t remember if I had said a proper greeting when I hung up the phone… as I exited the phone booth I felt that my last hope was gone. I’m finally going to have to live on the street. But… but… what the hell am I supposed to do? I asked myself over and over, and reluctantly arrived at the answer I already knew, the only solution. I have no choice but to go to Tounoin. Go to him… I’ll just borrow some money. As long as I have money I can do whatever I need to do; get a hotel room, ask the principal for a new ID when school resumes after Bon, go to city hall to get a certificate of seal impression, and then take it back to the bank. It’s just a debt, I will owe him a favor, but I can pay him back as much as I borrow. 

I walked, keeping my face down from the sun that was beating down on me. I was sweating profusely, yet an inexplicable chill ran down my spine. I put my hand to my forehead, which wasn’t even hot, but I felt like I was having a heat stroke. I need to borrow money to buy some cold medicine...a hotel… a cool room… I should have called Kawashima-san last night instead of trying to be proud and stick it out on my own. But it was so late at night… and either way it was too late now.

—

The Telephone Pole Mansion was silent and open as usual. On the wall opposite of the door to apartment 11 there was a row of mailboxes with numbers from 11-71 on them, and on box 71 was a handwritten name: “Kei Tounoin.” There was an elevator door next to it, and in front of the door an abandoned tricycle with the name ‘Mamiko’ written on it in permanent marker. I pushed the trike aside and pressed the button. I got off at the fifth floor — which was the end of the line — and climbed the remaining two floors, breathing hard. They say only idiots catch colds in the summer, but I felt myself getting more and more sick. But I had to act cool in front of Tounoin. He’ll probably tell me to use his place instead of a hotel, but I don’t want to accept a favor I can’t return. I had rejected him. Actually, he really wasn’t the kind of guy I could borrow money from, either… I finally managed to get to the apartment, and was anticipating getting to change clothes since the ones I had been wearing were soggy from being worn since yesterday. I put my hands in my pockets — I just remembered, I don’t have the key…

I usually have the key to his place. It was the middle of last month when Tounoin offered me his apartment, since mine didn’t allow the practicing of musical instruments and I had no other decent place to practice. At the time, we were still like a rabbit and a wolf, and I was the rabbit running away. I resisted and resisted, not wanting to be lured into the wolf’s house by some kind of trick. But then we developed a proper relationship as friends, and I decided to accept that his offer was out of kindness, not a trick. Since then, I’ve practiced here every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday night, and Sunday afternoon. I have a duplicate key because Tounoin’s apartment is soundproofed, and he plays music so loud that he doesn’t hear if somebody knocks. He gave me the key so I could come in on my own, but I had left the key in my apartment. On the morning I left, I put it in a bag of rice in the kitchen, along with my personal seal, bank book and other valuables… 

He had no doorbell. I knocked on the door, but there was no answer. I knocked a few more times, then thought to put my ear to the door, but it seemed to be silent behind it. Just to be sure, I looked for a window, but there was not a single window on this side. I went to the edge of the aisle and looked, but no, there was no window on that side either. There was a window across from the door inside… but regardless there was no sign of anybody being in the apartment. 

“He’s finally away…” did he go to his parents’ house, or on vacation, or just out shopping? No matter what Tounoin was doing, my situation was simple: I had no other place to go, no other option. As long as I had the key, I could go in; Tounoin wouldn’t mind if I came in when he wasn’t home. It would be much easier to wait in an air-conditioned room, and I would without hesitation, but without a key… it’s metal, so there is a possibility that it didn’t burn up in the fire. But to find it, I would have to go back down the stairs and walk for twenty minutes in the hot sun. Then I’d have to dig around in that pile of rubble, and what were the chances of finding it? Even if I did find it, it might be useless, and either way I’d have to come back here… by then, Tounoin might have returned. So I decided to just wait. Fortunately there was a roof over the passage, and the elevated location allowed for good ventilation. I sat down in the aisle with my violin case beside me on the concrete, which was cool and pleasant in the shade. Looking through the bars of the railing, the city was the color of scorched gold in the midsummer sun. I’ll wait here until it cools down in the evening, and if he doesn’t come back I’ll go look for the key…. but what if the key doesn’t work? Whether it’s there or not, I’ll have to come back, but what if Tounoin doesn’t come back tonight?

Then I’ll just spend the night here outside. No one but Tounoin comes up here anyway, and it’s summer so it shouldn’t be a problem to sleep overnight… but what if he’s on vacation? I haven’t heard anything about that. He’s probably shopping or something, he’ll be back in the evening. As I stared blankly at the scenery thinking about this, I began to feel sleepy. To tell the truth, I didn’t want to move anymore. The sooner I went to look for the key the better, and the sooner I could take some medicine the better. I didn’t have much of an appetite, but I was thirsty and I knew I could get a cold drink at the convenience store downstairs. But once I was sitting like this, I didn’t feel like getting up again. I felt like I didn’t actually sleep much at the police dormitory, and yesterday was still yesterday…

I had helped Mimiko with her farm work in the morning, took my nephews to the town swimming pool, and taken a six-hour express train ride home, and then when I was feeling relieved to be home, the apartment was gone. And all that time I wasted looking for a hotel… after all that, it’s not surprising that I didn’t get a good night’s sleep. In other words, I was utterly exhausted. And to top it off, I was coming down with a cold. I laid down with my bag as a pillow, just to give my body a rest. After a short nap I would take a fever reducer… and then go find the key… I laid down, staring at the concrete ceiling of the aisle and the blue sky beyond, thinking about the pile of scores I had that were now burned. I hadn’t finished learning more than half of them, maybe I should have brought at least those with me… I couldn’t help thinking about it now. 

...I opened my eyes with a start and realized I had fallen asleep. My body ached all over, probably from lying on a concrete bed. But I didn’t feel like waking up, I was feeling very sluggish, as if I were being held in a metal box. I wanted to look at the time, but I couldn’t lift my arm to put on my watch. ‘Never mind,’ I thought, ‘This is the top floor, and the only room up here is Tounoin’s, so I can afford to take my time. I’m sure he’ll have something to say when he gets back, and there’s no need to move when it’s still so hot…’ With this thought, I was sucked back into the darkness of sleep. But it was a sleep that I shouldn’t have fallen into, like what people experience when they’re in distress on snowy mountains.

I was burning hot when I woke up again. I forced open my heavy eyelids. Through the bars of the railing, at the same height as I was lying, the orange sun was blazing, and I was basking in the west sun. I tried to get up, but my body felt like a bag of wet sand. If I stayed here, I would dry out in the sun. I managed to crawl up on all fours and move to the little remaining shade by the top of the stairs. As I let my head fall limp, I thought of something. The violin! I shouldn’t have left it in the sun like that… I crawled back to the apartment door, grabbed the violin case, and went back to the shade. The coldness of the concrete made me feel uncomfortable, like a myriad of worms were slithering under my skin. Chills kept running down my spine incessantly. I was already starting to doze off, thinking of how awful this was. The sound of cicadas chirping somewhere in the distance was becoming more and more faint. Water… water… when it gets cooler, I’ll have to go to the convenience store… barley tea, juice...water...water…. I found myself depressed. When I came to, it was pitch black. I felt cold, and when I moved my entire body was filled with aches and pains. My head also felt like it was going to crack open, and the breath on my lips was hot. I felt like I couldn’t get up, but I managed to do so because I knew I was in danger of dying out here. Going down the stairs, however, was even more dangerous. My legs were unreliable, and my hands were shaking as I clung to the railing with what little strength I had. Still, I somehow managed to reach the elevator and descended to the ground floor. 

I staggered the 30 meters or so to the corner store and went in. The brightness of the white lights hurt my eyes.

“Excuse me,” I said, leaning against the register, “Do you have any fever reducers?”

“No, we don’t,” the cashier replied, “But there’s a pharmacy a little bit down the street.” He seemed kind. 

“How far is ‘just a little bit…’” It was too far for me now. “Could I have a bottle of Pocari?” The clerk asked me which one. “No, a large one.”

“Two bottles are six hundred and eighteen yen.” 

With trembling fingers I took the change and the heavy package and left the store. I didn’t have time to go looking for the keys. I literally crawled back to Tounoin’s front door on the seventh floor, relieved to see that the violin I had left behind was still there, and then I completely ran out of steam. I would fall asleep intermittently, waking up with chattering teeth, and then fall asleep again only to wake up drenched in sweat… each sleep and awakening had a similar sense of torment and nightmares, and time passed slowly. Every time I woke up, I would first check to make sure my violin was safe, then take a sip or two of Pocari, touch the violin case again and fall back into another painful sleep. 

I felt like my beloved instrument, which was ‘only two million yen’ in the eyes of musicians, was still very precious to me even at this moment when I felt on the brink of death. When I was a student, quite a few of my friends had instruments worth 2 million, and some played on ones worth 3 or 5 million. I wondered how they managed to squeeze that out of their parents. The violin is a small but expensive instrument, with the best ones like Stradivarius costing hundreds of millions of yen. Because of their nature, being made with wood, the sound gets better with age, so the 300,000 or 400,000 yen new violins lined up in the window of a music store are only considered entry-level instruments. When I was a student, I used a brand new violin that cost 700,000 yen. My mother spent all of her savings to buy me the best one she could find in the country, and that was how much it cost to get the violin and the bow as a set. The sound is somewhat proportional to the price, so no matter how hard I tried my instrument could not match that of a 3 million yen instrument. That’s why when I got out of college and started a temporary job, the first thing I did was buy this violin. I had already given up being a professional, but I really wanted an instrument that had a better sound; it was the culmination of around four years of frustration. I sold my 700,000 yen set for 600,000 yen, keeping the bow, and then added 1.4 million yen of my own from a personal loan to purchase my current instrument. I was really happy at the time, and now with only one more payment, my beloved instrument will be mine in both name and reality. Then, I will buy a suitable bow for it… probably something around 500,000 yen… with a loan again, but I will do it to get a new bow. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to afford it. And then I wished I could play the violin just one more time before I died, if this was to be my last moments…. when I think about it, I was being as sentimental as something you’d see in a shoujo manga, and later I blush when I recall being like that. I’m proud of myself for being a violinist, and under normal circumstances I wouldn’t have ever thought of pawning my violin for money. But I’m a fool, and in some way it’s more manly to be foolish.

That was what I was thinking about when I absentmindedly changed thoughts to the man who seemed to not be coming back, no matter how long I waited. I thought I heard footsteps, but figured it was just another hallucination. But the sound was getting closer… a white object appeared on the stairs, quickly turning into a Panama hat with black eyes under the brim. As I was lying on my concrete bed, all I could see was what came into my field of vision from the other side — a man with only a head, then a neck… his eyebrows were tight, the eyes underneath long and narrow, with a well-defined nose that even from the front you could tell was high. 

“No way,” the lips murmured. Then the shoulders appeared under the man’s neck, and a hand came up and lifted the Panama hat, which he fanned his face with. The man’s dark hair was long and full, tucked in tightly from the hat; it didn’t look rude or obnoxious because the style suited him. “Morimura… san? What are you doing here…?” With a clatter of footsteps the whole body appeared, a solid 190cm tall body in an elegant linen suit. He was holding a trunk that had customs stickers in one hand. Had he been traveling abroad…?

“Hey,” I smiled, or at least I thought I did. It was Kei Tounoin, the 22 year old unknown genius conductor who had dropped out of the Music Department of the National Fine Arts University — which he was accepted straight into — because he had ‘nothing more to learn’ after one year, and then he studied abroad in Germany and Austria. His present status was as the permanent conductor of the 2-Chome Phil, or Fujimi Orchestra, an amateur ensemble of people who love music. “I’ve been… waiting for a while…” I said in a raspy, shrill voice. Before I realized it was me speaking, I was folded into the chest of the suit that had quickly appeared. 

“Morimura-san! What’s going on? What the hell are you doing in a place like this?!” 

I was going to answer, but I lost consciousness…

--

When I woke up, I was in the water. At first I just felt vaguely cool and comfortable, when I heard a chuckle in my ear. My face was wiped with a cold towel dripping with water, and I opened my eyes. 

“Oh, you noticed,” The one who said this in a very relieved voice was Tounoin, who was looking right into my face from above. I tried to sit up, as I was using his arm as a pillow, but I heard a bang and realized I was lying in a Western-style bathtub filled with water. Completely naked.

“Wha-ah…” I jumped in shock.

Tounoin said in a serious voice, “I had to hurry to lower your temperature, it was over 40ºC.” I was relieved to hear that, but then my eyelids began to feel heavy… “Wait! Just one sip before you go to sleep,” he said with a panicked voice, and his arm snatched me up in a hug while he placed something hard and cold to my lips. A cup…? “You’re dehydrated, just drink as much as you can,” he said. Adam woke up and took a bite of the apple, but when I covered my crotch with my hand I felt even more embarrassed. “Sorry,” he said and shoved a thin object into my mouth. “It’s a thermometer,” he told me.

When he saw the temperature dropped to 37º he let me lean back into the water. I noticed that the sleeves and chest of his expensive linen suit were soaked from where I was leaning against him. “I’m sorry… I feel lost… put it on…” when I mumbled with the thermometer in my mouth, Tounoin smiled.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” I was scared because I was afraid he was going to kiss me. But he only leaned in to read the thermometer. The door behind him slammed open, and he murmured, “It’s about time he got here.”

“How is it? Has it gone down a bit?”

“Seven degrees in one minute. I’ll move him to the room. Oh, can you get a bath towel for me from the cabinet over there? Two or three for the bed.”

“I should have brought a nurse,” said the man, opening the cupboard as he thrust his stethoscope into his pocket. Tounoin tried to pick me up, but I said I could walk myself. Both of them got irritated at me, thinking that I was just embarrassed. But the problem was the bed that I was brought to… two months ago, I was raped in this bed… but I couldn’t very well say that to Tonouin, who had taken care of me like a mother, nor to the doctor. After all, I don’t have a place to go home to, and I can’t look for an apartment until I get better.

“I’ll give you some glucose. You can still give him water. Basically the only medicine he needs is water and rest. Let him have some porridge when he has the energy to eat. I’ll come back tomorrow to see how it goes,” said the doctor, who left quickly after finishing his diagnosis.

I had enough energy to talk, “Are you related to that doctor?”

“He’s my uncle,” was the reply. I tried to tell him that there were pajamas in my bag, but he ignored me.

Instead, he pushed the dial button on the phone he pulled out from under the bed, but I couldn’t quite hear what he was saying. “Hello, this is Kei. No, from Fujimi… please tell him it will be a little while before I can come back. No, I have a guest.” As I listened I felt his voice soften, and it occurred to me that he had a family, too. I hadn’t thought about it before…

When I woke up after a good night’s sleep I felt much better. I put on my underwear and pajamas, went to the bathroom on my own, which also made me feel better. My precious violin had been placed on the shelf above the audio components. When I told Tounoin about my unfortunate situation, he expressed his deepest sympathy and said I could stay in his place for the time being.

“I can’t annoy you any more than I already have,” I said. He had taken care of me and slept on the floor so I could use his bed.

“I see…” he said, his tone of voice sounding slightly angry. “I don’t think it’s annoying.”

“Well, I think it will still be two or three more days until I can get everything sorted out. So I’m sorry for that.”

“Yeah. But there’s no rush, you can stay here until you have the energy to play the violin. Conductor’s orders.” I laughed, and Tounoin laughed too. He’s a handsome man, but with his usual expressionless face he looks dour and misanthropic. However when he smiles, he looks very youthful and friendly.

—-

It was the third day I had occupied Tounoin’s bed. I had been thinking that tomorrow I could go out and look for an apartment, but I fell asleep… I woke up in the middle of the night because of a faint sound of music, just a murmur. 'That is… that’s Tannhäuser,' I thought, the song that filled up this room when it was at full volume on the night two months ago, when Tounoin forcibly embraced me! ‘Oh my god!’ I thought, and felt like jumping to my feet. But my body stayed still like it was bound up by rope. No, I was holding my breath like a rabbit who had heard the snort of a wolf, who was stalking him. I stifled a gasp, then fearfully opened my eyes. 

The room was dark, illuminated only by moonlight streaming in through the window, where the blinds were lowered… Tounoin was in his usual place, looking like his usual self on the other side of the room: facing the console cross-legged with his back to the bed. The sound of Tannhäuser was leaking from his headphones. The broad shoulders of his back made me wince, and inwardly I took an escape stance. Tounoin raised his arms and folded his hands behind his neck, then slowly curled his body forward. He stayed like that for quite some time. I could only see his curled back as I secretly watched him, fighting the memories that came back to me no matter how hard I tried to push them away. I don’t want to remember, but why is it that inconvenient memories are so vivid? I was attacked and raped while this song was blaring at maximum volume… the feeling of his thing going into me, the pain of it tearing my ass and the sensation of my internal organs being pushed out of my mouth when he was penetrating me. The uncountable minutes of humiliation, feeling crazy, embarrassed, terrible… I felt unbearably miserable, I really want to be able to erase this from my memory! Of course I didn’t want to do it… but I had gasped and moaned, and he was saying, “I love you”... no way! I wish I was lying, but the facts are what they are. 

I don’t know why he’s listening to that song, but before I knew it the sound stopped, and the silence made me choke up even more. The sound of my heartbeat throbbed in my ears as I pressed my head into the pillow, and I was worried Tounoin would hear it. I swallowed hard… how long was the silence going to last? Tounoin, motionless as a stone, murmured faintly, “Yuuki… Yuuki…” in a piercing whisper. Then he took off the headphones and stood up. I shut my eyes quickly. I felt a presence approach the side of the bed, and the raggedness of his breathing was stifling. I tried my best to pretend to be asleep. Tounoin seemed to be staring down at me. “If… if he’s willing…” he said quietly.

I decided what I would do and how I would do it, but I was confused. If he comes at me like he did that other time, I’m going to punch him in the face and run away, but… can I do it? ‘I will!’ I shouted at myself. Tounoin is a good man, and he saved my life, but that’s one thing and this is another! It has to be different! Tounoin was still standing there. The tension in my throat was so great that I felt my face begin to flush, thanks to the struggle to stifle screaming and the feeling of wanting to leap out of bed. 

I thought I had reached my limit when I heard his baritone voice say, “I’m sorry…” and he softly ruffled my hair. I opened my eyes when I heard the footsteps move away from me and the sound of blankets being spread out. Tounoin was lying with his back to me on a blanket on the wooden floor, instead of his bed that he had given up for me. He knew. He knew that I was awake, that I was curious about him. He knew I was afraid that he might do something, even though Tounoin had sworn never to force me and was keeping his vow. I wanted to tell him I was sorry, but I was scared to do that because it would give him hope… if I made him want to try again, when he was trying to give up like a man…. well, honestly I was afraid of Tounoin. Our friendship was built on the thin ice of his self-control, and if I take one careless step and it cracks, I will be swallowed by the flames of his passion that are still burning underneath. I knew that for sure from that afternoon in July.

 I also knew that I couldn’t allow myself to succumb to pleasure in the arms of a man; I couldn’t forgive myself after my body confessed itself unintentionally. He had hugged me with arms that were free of lust and apologized. I had said ‘I understand, but I’m not going to be in a romantic relationship with a man no matter how much he loves me.’ He accepted it when I said those words, and then we settled down into the normal friendship I had hoped for… but the way Tounoin was fighting with himself now, the bitter battle between his true feelings and the pretense he showed me tonight, that was the truth. He only put on the ‘just a friend’ act for me, a false image that twisted his true feelings. I knew I had to snap out of it with an ‘I’m sorry,’ which I was able to say by pushing down my emotions through reason, but it was much more painful than I had expected. He said that we would go find an apartment tomorrow, and that was the scream of his suppressed emotions. I knew I shouldn’t have stayed here… I like Tounoin as a person, but I can’t accept him the way he wants me to. I’m like a fish laying in front of a cat, ready to be eaten. I can’t let him do this to himself anymore.

The next day we took a cab to the real estate office. I said we could walk, but Tounoin was adamant, so we drove. We actually went to four real estate agencies, but couldn’t find anything that I liked so decided to try again another day. While we were out I also went to the school I worked at, which was two stops away by train. The vice principal was there, and he expressed his deepest sympathies for my situation and gave me a new ID card after I had requested him to reissue it over the phone. I immediately went to the city hall, got my seal registration card and went to the bank. Tounoin asked the branch manager to check my bank account in a calm and unobtrusive tone, and got the answer that I should wait for a few days. The bank book with a balance of 637 yen was quickly reissued with a single three-sentence stamp, since he showed his passport and acted as my guarantor. It seemed my body was still not up to full condition since I fell asleep in the cab on the way home, which worried Tounoin a little. 

As soon as we got back Tounoin pushed me to go to bed, and then Ishida-san came to visit suddenly. It seems that Fujimi’s caretaker was very worried about me, since I had been missing since the fire. He said, “Well, I got a call from my landlord as soon as I came back from my vacation. He asked me if I knew where you had gone, so I called your family but they replied that you left them on the 12th. I didn’t say anything about the fire, I just told your sister that I had urgent business for Fujimi. Since the police assured us that nobody died in the fire, I didn’t want to worry her unnecessarily.” 

Come to think of it, Ishida-san was my guarantor for my apartment contract. “Thank you for everything,” I bowed my head from the bed. “I was going to call my sister after I found a new apartment,” I added, “But Tounoin didn’t think I should mention the mishap with the fire. It’s not really a nice thing to talk about, after all.” Ishida-san nodded in agreement. 

“It’s a good thing you have shelter right now. How is your cold?”

“I'm getting better. I’ve been troubling Tounoin-san a lot.”

“So, are you going to find an apartment?"

“It’s hard to find a cheap place where you can also practice violin.”

Ishida laughed, “I hope the landlord decides to rebuild, but he is getting old. I did hear that he will be compensated for the spread of the fire."

“That’s right, even though the landlord didn’t start the fire.”

“Well, that’s about it. So…” Ishida-san rummaged through the bag he brought with him. “There’s not much in there, but be careful when you open it,” he said, placing an envelope next to my lap.

“Oh no, no, you shouldn’t have.”

“It’s not much, just a gift. This is the kind of situation for it, after all. And you don’t need to give anything back in return; we’ve known each other for a long time, even if it doesn’t feel like it.” He smiled at me and sat up. “Are you going to stay here until you find an apartment?”

I was about to reply ‘no,’ but Tounoin said “Yes.” 

“That’s good. I’ll see you later, then. Is rehearsal still off for tomorrow?”

“No, I’ll go.”

“Oh, yes. Well, we can’t have rehearsal without Morimura-chan, and Tounoin-kun isn’t going to attend either. You don’t have to force yourself.” 

After Nico-chan left, looking busy, Tounoin and I had a disagreement about where I would stay until I found an apartment.

Tounoin said, “I’ll be staying at my parents’ place from tonight, so you can take your time finding an apartment.”

“That’s…! No, I’ll go to a hotel.”

“That would be a waste of money,” I choked up… it’s true that if the bank doesn’t figure out my situation, I’m penniless.

“But I can’t just kick you out of your own place…”

“It’s okay, I should be dutiful to my sponsors sometimes, after all.”

“Where’s your hometown?”

“Seijo.”

 Wow, a high-class residential area! “But then, won’t it take you nearly two hours to get here?”

“Well, yes.”

“I can’t bother you like that.”

“I told you, it’s not a bother.”

“But it’s definitely inconvenient.”

“It’s about time I slept on a decent futon anyway.”

“Well, let’s switch. I’ll sleep on the floor tonight.”

“You’re a sick man.”

“I’m better now!”

“Then why don’t you go for a run around the town?”

We were dancing around the subject, he knew it and I knew it. Tounoin wants to get out before his emotions get the better of him. I can’t make the man who saved my life leave his own apartment. But to hold him back would be to continue tormenting him… 'Oh, righteousness or humanity!' I thought, and then I realized that it wasn’t out of duty or courtesy that I wanted to keep him around, is it? It’s just my stubbornness, and that I don’t want to admit that I’m actually afraid of him….

“Okay,” I said. “I feel really bad for you, but if it makes you feel better…” 

Tounoin laughed with a huff, “I’m telling you that I don’t think you can sleep well with me around, so I’m removing myself.”

I was pissed off that he pointed out the truth so bluntly, “I trust you, don’t I?”

“Do you?” 

Now I was really annoyed, “So why don’t you sleep with me tonight?” I thought I’d lost it as soon as the words came out of my mouth, but I couldn’t unsay it. “If you don’t want to sleep on the floor, then sleep next to me. I don’t mind,” I told him, confident he would refuse.

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” he said with a sly smile.

“Then let’s go with that.” He smiled at me as I looked up at him, feeling like I had dug my own grave.

“I’m a better sleeper than Morimura-san.”

—

… Tounoin’s daily routine is that of somebody who is young and doesn’t have a regular job (I think, I never asked him about it), but is very precise. He wakes up at seven in the morning and has bread and coffee for breakfast. Then, he runs the washing machine and cleans the room with a rented mop. When he's done, he takes out a book or two from the cabinet full of scores, spreads them on his knees and studies them. He wasn’t playing recordings this time, but apparently just reading the music in his head; I had heard that only geniuses of Seiji Ozawa’s level could do that sort of thing without the assistance of an instrument. Usually you play piano or something at least. Conductors use the score, a book of music that contains all the parts of the orchestra (brass, woodwinds, strings, percussion), and each page has all the staves needed for the instrumental parts. The conductor’s job is to understand the flow of each part and how it interacts with the harmony in the complex combination as a whole. To be blunt, it was a task that my mind could never handle, but Tounoin apparently can construct it completely in his head. I knew he was a true genius. But of course, he didn’t seem to be doing it effortlessly either. He was doing it in his usual manner, with the score on his knees, but the level of tension and concentration was completely different from when he was reading with the recordings. He doesn’t talk to anyone, but I feel like I need to refrain from even breathing…

He does this from around eight o’clock, sometimes until the afternoon, without taking a break, and then would take a nap. After sleeping like a dead man for an hour, he would put on recordings in addition to reading the scores. Then he had dinner delivered from a restaurant (today while waiting for the food, he remembered the laundry and went to put it in the dryer), and after he finishes eating, goes back to playing recordings and score study.  He finishes up around twelve o’clock, takes a nightly bath, and goes to bed. He doesn’t have any sort of nightcap or alcohol; he was a man who lived a life completely immersed in music. 

I looked at the clock every five minutes, waiting for midnight to come. Well, maybe waiting wasn’t quite the right word, it was more like being in a state of trepidation. It was a little past midnight when Tounoin took off his headphones and turned the components off. He turned around to see if I was asleep (of course I pretended to be), turned off the light and walked past my side of the bed to the back door. Incidentally, this apartment is very well designed, except for the fact that the room isn’t square in shape. The first thing you see when you walk in is the audio equipment with five speakers that look like they cost a million yen. When you remove your shoes, you can see a large window at the other end of the room, and when you step inside the flooring is cork. The bed is at the far end of the room, and next to the double-sized bed there is a row of doors on the wall. The three closest to the entrance are cabinets full of musical scores. The fourth one leads to a cabin in the back, which houses a bathroom with a Western-style toilet, a storage area with laundry facilities, and a dining/kitchen area, all crammed into one functional space. 

After finishing his nightly studies, Tounoin went into the captain’s room for his usual bath, but he didn’t come out for a long time, while I waited and waited pretending to be asleep. He usually doesn’t take long baths, but it was over thirty minutes at least. Tired of nervously waiting, I actually dozed off instead of pretending, waking up when I felt the bed sink. Tounoin had laid down in the empty spot by the wall. He fidgeted a bit behind me with his back to me, but he soon quieted down. Then came the sign of someone who was satisfied with the comfort of sleeping. I couldn’t help but listen attentively to the sound of Tounoin’s breathing less than a meter away. If it didn’t switch to the sound of deeper sleep, I wouldn’t be able to sleep peacefully myself… but it wasn’t long before I started to hear his breathing slow and fall into a regular pattern. For now I was relieved, and was ready to fall asleep too. But… my mind was still racing and I couldn’t quiet it. It wasn’t that I wasn’t tired, but I hadn’t been out of the apartment in days, and even if my body is tired my mind is so sharp that it refuses to sleep. And then the more impatient I am to sleep, the more I hear Tounoin’s sleeping breath, the smell of his shampoo, and other things poking at my consciousness that brought back memories from that night and afternoon. This man who suddenly revealed himself as a passionate person, who attacked me and stole me away, when I had only known him as an impudent and calm conductor… this man who plucked my pride and twisted my flesh into a type of affair I’d never known… this man with wide shoulders, a broad chest and strong arms, that held me captive and dominated me, stopping me from challenging him with his strength…

For a moment, I remembered the feeling of something thick and hot ramming into my ass. I twitched, and at the same time I realized that my penis was on the verge of rising. Why is my body in such a state of rebellion against my will? How was it that a  single, forced experience made me a homosexual who wants a man? But… but… smelling Tounoin’s scent… his presence… is what causes this change in my body. He already understood, I convinced him that I can’t be his lover, and he has not laid a finger on me as promised. I...I...I… stiffened at the sound of a sigh behind me.

“What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?” The sleepy voice had a faint hint of a teasing smile. The bed creaked as he turned over, and then Tounoin fell asleep with a swoosh. 

‘Damn it!’ I thought. I was supposed to be worried that he would break the chains of his reason! Yes, I was. He really wanted to have sex with me, but out of concern that he couldn’t keep his vows he was going to stay at his parents’ house. Because I hinted at that, his vain counterattack was this accusation that I didn’t trust him. The rest was just saying words for words’ sake, but… okay, I’ll buy it. I’ll buy it. I’m determined to see how much more of this you can take, until you give up! But if you lose it and come after me, I’ll laugh my ass off and ask what happened to your vows! Yeah, that’s right, I’m going to laugh about it. Once my mind was made up, all I had to do was sleep. Oh yeah, I’ll laugh it up. He’s going to get a real good night’s sleep…

I woke up twice in the night. Why is that? ‘I’m a better sleeper than you…’ get out of here with that kind of joke!

—

I woke up in a daze. It was cool and chilly, and I nuzzled my nose into the warmth in front of my face. I heard, “Good morning.”

“Mmm…” I replied softly. Huh? 

The warmth was the chest of Tounoin’s pajamas, and I had slept hugging him! I tried to sit up, but he pulled my head back and said, “Now do you understand? I have confidence in my ability to reason,” reminding me of what I had thought before I fell asleep. I steeled myself to prepare for an escape. 

“Yes, but you’re not a good sleeper, are you?”

 Tounoin laughed, “I’ll be as careful as possible.” Now I’m sure you’ll be sleeping with me as long as I’m here. Don’t start barking now that your tail is out, wolf… I’m perfectly fine with it. But the AC is so low in this room that it feels good to be together… I’m in trouble… I fell asleep again and was woken up for lunch, and I felt embarrassed. 

In the afternoon the two of us went out to look for an apartment again, but we didn’t find anything that day either. I withdrew my requirement for being able to practice the violin. I was satisfied with my modest request to be able to afford the rent, and making sure it was in Fujimi-cho, not too far from the station. But I couldn’t even find one that would satisfy those modest wishes. Most of the apartments in Fujimi-cho are bedroom-focused, and the emphasis on family units seemed to be a bottleneck. I didn’t mind living in an apartment with one or more baths, but the rent was accordingly expensive…

 I had a Fujimi rehearsal in the evening, but I was tired from visiting real estate agencies. But I had promised Ishida-san that I would attend, so I started preparing in the evening. I realized that if I don’t play for a day, I can’t move my fingers the following day. Aside from the right hand that uses the bow, the left hand has to play on the strings almost of its own accord. To make up for a week’s absence of practicing, I spent three hours before heading to the Civic Center. But… fuck! This is just Allegro! Why can’t I move my fingers better than this?

“Morimura-san.”

Oh, I’m depressed, I missed it again. And it’s in such an easy position…

“Morimura-san!” He shouted in my ear. I looked up to see Tounoin looking down calmly. 

“Go ahead, I’ll be on my way shortly.”

“Are your clothes OK? If you want to change…”

“No, thank you. It’s fine, it’s fine.” I only had two sets of clothes in my travel bag, and the ones I was wearing at the moment were procured by Tounoin because he thought it would be inconvenient to keep wearing the same clothes. He has good taste.

“So, we should leave soon. We can stop at Fujimi on the way home for dinner.”

“Yeah,” I nodded and thought to myself, is he acting like my guardian? Yeah… he is.

—

Fujimi’s summer vacation lasted ten days, and I returned on the second rehearsal after the vacation. I was escorted (or so it appeared) by Tounoin. We stepped into the main conference room of the Civic Center and got down to business as usual. I took out the folding chairs from the storage area and arranged them, took out the folding table and arranged it, then the tuner and checked the batteries… Tounoin helped me quietly, and when he was done he disappeared to somewhere else. 

The first person to arrive was Ishida-san with his double bass, “Well, you’ve come out after all.” Apparently he had come to set up the venue in my stead. Everybody else seemed to come very quickly as well, and when they came up to talk to me they all knew about the fire in my apartment. I shouldn’t have felt annoyed that they were worried about me, but I also felt embarrassed, so I just said, “Thank you” and “It’s okay.” Kawashima-san also came to give her condolences.

“I was worried when I heard from my mother that you called me. Where on earth did you go…?” as she said this, the beautiful flutist looked at me with a puzzled expression. She knows about my relationship with Tounoin, except she stopped short of saying anything out loud.

I took the initiative, “Yes, actually, I’m staying at Tounoin-san’s right now,” Ishida-san knew about it, anyway. I added firmly, “In a clean and respectable way, as a housemate.”

Kawashima ran her white fingers through her pretty hair, “So are you still following the trend?”

“Of course not! I’m not gay!” 

Kawashima-san cut me off, chuckling, “I’m sorry, I have to admit I have a little grudge against you, so I felt like teasing.” It was a one-way love triangle between me, Kawashima-san and Tounoin. I was in love with Kawashima-san, she fell in love with Tounoin at first sight, and Tounoin fell in love with me… then I was dumped by Kawashima-san, she was rejected by Tounoin, and of course I have no intention of becoming a lover to a man. But it was a joking manner of resentment. After all, she’s the one that keeps trying to get me and Tounoin together. She seems to think homosexual couples are ‘trendy,’ but you know… a man and a man bedding together is just an awful sight. 

That evening we were supposed to be finishing up Finlandia, which we’ve been working on since last month… I took a break, and hadn’t touched my violin for a week. I looked at Igarashi-kun, the student cellist, and thought, ‘Well… let's see.’ I clapped my hands to get his attention. “Since everybody seems to be ready, can we try playing the part together? Strings, let’s do all the strings together and all the winds together. Timpani, please join the winds. Kaizuka-san, please take the lead of the wind section.” 

The principal oboe raised her hand to gather the other winds, and I joined the string group, taking advantage of the rattling and rearranging. “Ichiyama-san,” I called the second violin leader. “I’m sorry, but I need you to be the leader today.”

“But Concertmaster, why are you stepping down?”

“I haven’t played for a week, so my fingers are completely rusty. I want to get back in shape before Tounoin-san gets here. Sorry to be so selfish.” Ichiyama, who was an accounting manager of a construction company in the next town, nodded seriously. 

“I heard you were sick in bed with a cold. How are you feeling now?”

“Better, thanks.”

Igarashi-kun smiled at me as I joined the circle. He was especially happy, but everyone was already tired of practicing the monotonous long notes. The winds began to play and Ichiyama-san frowned. “I can’t hear very well,” he said. For the next forty minutes, until eight o’clock, we concentrated on uniting the string section.

“Stop, stop! We have to listen to each other more. If the string parts are not played like a single instrument, it will be more disjointed when we put it together with the winds. Then, let’s take it from bar 32.” The group with the timpani added to the woodwinds and brass seemed to be working hard to create the right harmony, playing and stopping. Playing and stopping. I had been able to instruct them on the right way to practice.

“Sorry,” said Nico-Chan, scratching his head. Ishida-san, who held the title of ‘Fujimi Citizen’s Symphony Orchestra Caretaker,’ had been sentenced by his wife to have his instrument taken away when he almost destroyed his main business, Mozart coffee shop, because he was so devoted to Fujimi. As a relief measure for the situation when we lost our bass player, we won her pardon so he could return to playing after almost ten years of being benched. He couldn’t help that he couldn’t produce a solid sound, but Ichiyama-san had been a friend of Ishida-san’s since the formation of Fujimi, and therefore had a relationship that allowed them to complain freely. Ishida-san apologized and tried his best to meet the order of playing ‘crisply’ in a serious manner. This was one of the things I liked about Fujimi, how in the family-like atmosphere warnings and advice were exchanged very naturally. We were all getting better together while having fun.

“Morimura-chan,” Ichiyama-san’s voice made me turn around. “You’ve got a lot of tension in your shoulders.”

“Oh, yes,” I lowered my violin and did some exercise with my shoulders. I’m getting really stiff.

“So, let’s start at measure forty-eight,” It’s really wonderful to have such colleagues, I thought. Oh, I’m in tune… yes, it’s going well. Eventually, at exactly the right time, Tounoin walked through the door after his five-minute observation and climbed up on the podium. I wondered where he had gone off to; I had thought he was going to be there for the earlier part of the rehearsal since he came over with me. Then I realized something: could it be that he did it for me? I didn’t mind at all, but it's true that I didn’t want it to be obvious that we had come to rehearsal together. 

—

I was packing up to leave after Tounoin’s usual, ‘We’re done’ when Igarashi-kun came up to me, looking like he wanted to talk. 

“So I heard that you were laid up for a while,” Igarashi is a current student in the cello department of the local music university, who started school the same year I graduated. He’s a cute guy who looks up to me for some reason. He’s talented, motivated, and cheerful, and also tends to be the ‘mood-maker’ in Fujimi.

“I caught a cold when I got stuck without a place to stay,” I replied, “But I’m all better now. Why?” I opened the floor for him.

“Actually…” he scratched his head, “The thing is… I’ve been ordered by the orchestra director to transcribe some music. It’s for a program in next month’s school festival, and it’s due tomorrow. I gathered my friends and we worked hard, but we still have a third of the score left to do.”

“Haha… what’s the piece?”

“A symphony composed by Kitagawa, a senior student in the composition department. It’s long and complicated.”

“Then you shouldn’t have come to rehearsal tonight.”

“If I didn’t take a break from it, I’d be dead by now. I’ve been up all night for two days and still haven’t finished.”

“So are you trying to get another cat’s paw?” Igarashi rubbed the back of his head as I talked.

“Sempai, please. I’ll get you midnight snacks and breakfast!” 

Transcribing music is literally copying music, but not the easy way with the photocopier. What Igarashi and his friends were doing was creating parts from the conductor’s score, the music that represents the entire piece. However, for each player in the orchestra the score is inconvenient, since all the notes of the instruments are written in the music, and each page only consists of four to six measures per page, requiring frequent page turns. So for the performers, a part must be made from the score, a transcription of the part from the general score, and it must be done for each instrument; for first violin the first violin part, oboe for the oboe, percussion for percussion. Of course, for major works by popular composers such as Mozart, Beethoven and Toshiro Mutsu, the publishers give you both the score and parts if you buy them (or if there are copyright restrictions, you can rent them for a fee) — or copy them if you can get away with it. However, the ones that Igarashi and his colleagues are working on are by a student composer, with only the original score to work with…

In other words, the only option was to take the score and write out the parts, which I had done many times. The ‘Freude Orchestra’ was formed as a music college club, and had a tradition of playing newly composed pieces by fellow students mixed in with regular concert programming. In Fujimi, whenever I needed to make my own arrangements for missing parts, I was the one to do the transcribing (Nico could do the arranging as well, but as a busy coffee shop owner he usually didn’t have time to do it). So I know firsthand the difficulty Igarashi and the others are facing. 

“Okay, I’ll help you out,” I answered. “Where have you been working on it?”

Igarashi looked relieved, “In my apartment, we only have the string parts left to do.”

“Is it a good piece?”

“It’s not bad. Mayuzumi said it was a great work, but…”

“Hahaha!” I realized that the only people left in the practice room were me, Igarashi and Tounoin, and everything but the chair I was sitting on had been put away. I told the tall conductor, “I’m going to go with Igarashi-kun to help him with some transcribing right now, so please go home first.” He stared at me for a moment and nodded. He quickly left the room. “I’m staying with him for right now, since I haven’t been able to find a reasonable apartment,” I explained.

“Oh…” Igarashi nodded. After that, I felt like he was secretly biting back a laugh, but that was probably my paranoia. “Well, you really saved my life. I was wondering what I would do if Morimura-san refused me.” 

I finally escaped, didn’t I? But while listening to Igarashi’s smiling voice, I was thinking of how Tounoin’s back looked somewhat depressed as he walked away. It’s not a bad feeling to have somebody worry about you, but he’s being overly protective. I’m a full-grown man, I can take care of myself. I don’t need a guardian anymore.

—-

Igarashi’s apartment was on the third floor of a newer reinforced concrete building, just a few blocks from my old place that had burned down. The room, which was about six tatami mats with a kitchen, was fairly clean, and two exhausted-looking coworkers were waiting for Igarashi to return with his helper.  The windows were open and the air was a bit stuffy, but there was no fan running. A pile of staff paper scattered about the room was the reason why they couldn’t have any inadvertent breeze.

“This is Kikuchi on clarinet and Oyama on piano.” Kikuchi was a small man with pouty lips that looked like the type of person who would play clarinet. Both of them were dressed in running shirts and pants, and their eyes were red, their faces full of stubble and fatigue.

“I’m Morimura. How many more pages do you have to do?” The symphony, titled Yuguna, is a large work with a performance time of fifty minutes, filled with waves of sixteenth notes mixed with thirty-second notes in modulation after modulation, a characteristic of modern music. I could tell from a glance of the score that it was a difficult piece. However, I could see a glimpse of talent in the unique melodic quality of the phrases, which was probably why it was chosen as the piece for the Freude Orchestra’s regular concert. But...I put my face close to the handwritten copy. Is that a C? Or is it a D?...D apparently… it’s hard to tell.

“It’s hard enough to read, isn’t it?”

“I think you should probably re-write the whole score while you’re at it,” I said, and the atmosphere quieted down. I realized that I had lost my mind. Damn it, these people…

“Well, I guess Kitagawa-kun will conduct, so I’ll just leave it at that.”

 I tried to recover my position, but then one of them said, “Yoshida is the senior in the conducting department, he’s going to conduct it…”

“So…”

“I’ll take care of the conductor’s score.” Igarashi’s face lit up as I said it with a sacrificial look of resignation.

“I’ll do the second violin,” Kikuchi said, “Who’s gonna take cello?”

“I don’t mind doing the cello part,” Oyama said, staring at the copy of the score, “Just the cello.”

“How much time do we have?”

 I flipped through the part, trying to assess how long I thought it would take, when Igarashi said in a small voice, “I promised to have it done by nine o’clock…”

“... in the morning, right?”

“Hahaha, well…”

“So we’ve only got ten hours! What are you waiting for? Staff paper! Pens!” There was no point in transcribing music if you can’t make it accurate and legible. And most of the time, you have to race against the clock.

I started with the first violin part, one of the two that I had been assigned. There is only one conductor’s score, but there are eighteen violins in a full orchestra. Priority was given to the many. I wrote in the note heads as fast as I could, going back and adding the stems after I had written a few measures' worth. Then I wrote the accidentals as needed — oops, it’s in B-flat from here. Damn it, I don’t want anybody to get keystroke from… for moving chords around so much. It’s a six-bar break, not five. Oh, is it natural or sharp? No, it’s natural. Hey, is that an E or an F or… uh… 

“Igarashi-kun,” I called out to him from halfway across the table, where he was focused on his own work.

Without looking up, Igarashi placed something in front of me. It was dice.

“Is this..?”

“If it’s an even number, it’s E.”

“So you want me to roll the dice to decide which pitch it is? That’s random…” I mumbled, and began to examine the chords to try and draw a conclusion from their spelling.

“Iga, give me the dice,” said Kikuchi, who was behind me using a beer container as a desk. Igarashi tossed him the dice.

“I need them too,” said Oyama, who was also using a makeshift desk next to me.

“What, you’re all doing it that way? You’re lousy transcribers, aren’t you?”

Kikuchi muttered to me as he rolled the dice for Oyama, “I’m sure Morimura-san will figure out why soon enough.”

I knew that if I had to guess and interpret every chord, I would never make the deadline in time. Damn it, if it’s difficult, it’s probably a great piece. I don’t get this music at all! I started working on it about ten o’clock, and it was past midnight when I finished the violin part with the measure numbers written in. I skipped checking the music at this point and started transcribing the whole score. If there were any mistakes, they could find them in rehearsal and if not, then it’ll be what it is. After all, I had to finish this thick book of sheet music by eight o’clock at the latest… But let’s be real, this is impossible! It’s physically not possible to do in seven hours what it would take three people like Igarashi and his team two days and nights to do. But we had to get whatever we could done. As I wrote the names of the parts on the second sheet of the score, I called out to Igarashi, “The piano parts are done. I can’t finish the score by nine o’clock, but I’ll do as much as possible.”

“You’ve finished the violin part already?”

“Really? Wow, that’s fast!” Igarashi picked up the completed part. “I can’t believe this is handwritten! Morimura-san, you could make a living as a transcriber!”

“What? Which one? Wow, that’s great.”

“That’s true, the first violinists are lucky.”

“Ah…” I didn’t have time to be happy even if they praised me. Okay, brass is done. Next is…. but it’s so hot, even with the windows open, because there’s no breeze coming in. The rest of them were wearing only their underwear; they had told me to take mine off too, and I would feel better. So I took my shirt off, though I wasn’t wearing underwear so I was only naked on top, but it’s only guys here anyway. 

I was writing out the harp section on page 43 when I heard, “Oh, it’s finally done!” Oyama exhaled a deep breath and suddenly fell back onto the tatami floor. “It’s already four o’clock and I’m starving,” he said and rummaged through the bag from the convenience store that was left there.

“There’s a ramen if you want it,” replied Igarashi, still moving his pen.

“If you make it for me, I’ll eat it.”

“What about you, Morimura-san?” He asked me. I was about to answer ‘no’ when I remembered that I had skipped dinner, and I was almost at the limit of my energy with my stiff shoulders.

“I’ll eat. I missed dinner.”

“So you want me to make two?”

“No, just one.” I quickly sipped the cup of ramen while reading the rest of the score, and returned to my writing. As I started the fiftieth page, Kikuchi announced that he was done with his work. As soon as he finished his ramen, he flopped down beside Oyama, who had fallen asleep, and he did the same.

“So depressed that they’re done already,” muttered Igarashi. Oyama was snoring, Kikuchi had a peaceful sleeping breath, and the sound of Igarashi and my pens running on the paper… the smell of ramen and the sweat of tired young people… I noticed a cool breeze coming through the window, and when I raised my eyes it was light outside. I breathed in the brief freshness that comes between the tropical night and a hot day. Now only a hundred pages to go.

When Igarashi packed his and the other’s finished bunches of parts into paper bags and left the apartment, I was still wrestling with a job that would take another six hours. The sun was on the way up. The hot room was somehow even hotter; sweat dripped from my hair as I bent over the staff paper, so I wrapped a towel around my head. It trickled down my bare chest and armpits, even on the back of my hand. Sweat gushes out in beads no matter how much I wipe it off, making the pen slip in my hand. I took a short break when I had just started the 100th page. In order to reduce the remaining 50 pages as much as possible, I did one more page in the three minutes I was waiting for the cup o’noodles to be ready, but it took me longer than I thought it would, and the ramen turned into udon. 

As I slurped down the bloated noodles, I thought about how I was too good-natured. I felt like an idiot for staying up all night on a job that has nothing to do with me or Fujimi… speaking of which, I wonder if Tounoin was worried about me. But at this hour, it would be an imposition to make a phone call, and I don’t even know his phone number in the first place… well, it should be ok, I already mentioned that I was doing the transcription, and he should know that it’s a time-consuming job. I finished the soup, drank two glasses of Aquarius to rehydrate myself, and took up the pen to resume work. Ahh, my hands hurt, my eyes are tired… but if I rested now, I wouldn’t be able to finish the job. Give me strength… I wrote the last symbol on the last page, and the long, long job was done. Eighteen hours of work! My fingers were so stiff they creaked when I tried to put the pen down. I took off my glasses, which felt like they were burrowing into my nostrils, and placed them on top of the finished score. I was tired~

Igarashi and his friends had not returned yet. Come to think of it, he said he had rehearsal in the evening. It’s hard for the underclassmen when they’re overworked by their seniors… I was going to just leave my score behind and go back to Tounoin’s place, but when I laid down to stretch my back — which was stiff as a board — I didn’t want to get up again. I decided to sleep while looking after the house until Igarashi returned. Feeling my tired body falling asleep, I patted myself on the back for a job well done. 

—

I smelled food and drink. The sound of voices, sometimes loud and sometimes guttural. It sounded like I was in the middle of a drinking party. I turned over in my sleep, thinking it was too noisy.

“Oh, Morimura-san, are you awake?” I heard Igarashi’s voice say, and felt him come over to look at me. I pretended to still be asleep. They were probably celebrating being done with the transcription, but right now I wanted to sleep more than drink.

“Morimura-san, we have Oden. Hey, Morimura-san.” I didn’t want it, just let me sleep.

“No, he won’t wake up,” I heard Igarashi say to his friends.

“Ah, well he’s a great person. Did you see the score? He rewrote it down to the last page. I admire him,” Kikuchi replied.

“He’s a very serious person, he never makes mistakes on the violin. He practices like a pro, I bet.”

“And he’s cute, too…” Oyama’s voice said, “I didn’t notice it until I saw him sleeping just now. So amazing.” His speech was slurred, so clearly he was drunk.

“Hey, Oyama, don’t be weird,” Igarashi said with a laugh.

“What do you mean ‘weird’? Beethoven and Karajan had male lovers. Genius lives in homosexuality,” after making this startling counterargument, he seemed to stand up.

“Hey Oyama, sit down,” Igarashi said.

“Hehe, just look at him,” he said, and inwardly I frowned as I felt liquored breath on my face. “The more I look at him, the more attractive he is… so cute. Haha, he has such a beautiful chest… and smooth skin… and perky nipples.”

“Hey if Morimura-san wakes up he’s going to kick your ass!” Kikuchi yelled. Oh, I’ll kick his ass alright.

“Beethoven, Karajan… why are you making up that kind of bullshit?”

“Someday you’re gonna get killed, saying that kind of stuff.”

“It’s not bullshit, and I’m a genius. When I see a guy like this I get so horny… he’s so sexy...” The reason I didn’t take action until the person speaking slammed into me was because I was just too tired to bother moving.

“Whoa!” It wasn’t me who screamed, but Igarashi and Kikuchi. My mouth was blocked by the boozy lips stuck to my face. As I struggled, Oyama gasped and said, “You look so sexy, ahh…” as he groped my chest and stomach.

“You idiot! Stop it! Stop it!”

“Oyama, goddamn it, stop!” The two of them were yelling and trying to pull Oyama off of me. 

I twisted Oyama’s ear, which he grabbed with his struggling hand, then I slapped him as hard as I could in the face.“You perverted son of a bitch!” I shouted and glared at him. 

Oyama looked at me soberly, “This… you! You hit me! I’ll fuck you up!!”

“Oyama! That’s enough!”

“I’m sorry Morimura-san, so sorry!”

“Dammit, let me have a shot at him!” Oyama yelled, and still tried to grab at me while being pinned down by Igarashi and Kikuchi. I almost punched him, but I thought twice about it when I noticed a poster of some chamber music group on the wall behind Oyama. That’s right, I’m a violinist, and my hands are my most important tool. I looked around and saw a bottle of wine. I grabbed it in my other hand and swung it over Oyama’s head; he thought I was going to crack his skull, and Igarashi held up his hands in surprise. But what I threw at his head was… alcohol. After I emptied the contents of the bottle on Oyama’s head, I threw the bottle down.

“There, I’ve cooled you down a bit, asshole!” I spat at him between my clenched teeth. I glanced at the three rigid men and put on the clothes I had taken off. Damn it, if I had known I’d get mixed up in something like this, I wouldn’t have agreed to do anything. I stepped into my sneakers and opened the door.

“Oh, Morimura-san, please wait!” Igarashi dashed after me, but I ignored him. “Sorry, I’m so sorry! I’m really sorry this happened after you helped me so much. I’m sorry!” Igarashi was crying. “When he gets drunk he turns into a monster, but he usually doesn’t do that sort of thing! I’ve never seen him do anything like that before.”

“So are you saying it’s my fault?” Igarashi fell silent for a moment when I sprayed him with the cold anger that was inside me. I looked at him sideways. Igarashi followed me and wept with a crumpled face. I sighed and stopped. “...I know it’s not your fault. I can’t tell you not to worry about it, though.”

“I’m sorry…!” Igarashi squeaked out and sobbed. “Oh I… I can’t go to Fujimi anymore.”

“...are you saying you’re going to make the cello section vacant?”

“No, because I…”

It came out of nowhere. The blood that had been frozen in the pit of my stomach shot up to my head and I yelled as loud as I could, “Don’t be stupid! Don’t you dare waste that shit score I just transcribed for you! And now I’m repaid by getting teased by a drunk and being told that our only cello is quitting? Do you think I’m an idiot?”

Igarashi’s eyes darted as he looked up at me, mumbling, “I’m sorry...I’m sorry…”

“It’s all right, as long as you understand,” I said, and walked away. I thought how the tone of voice I used was like Tounoin’s. Come to think of it, Tounoin… is he worried? It was already night again, and I had left my watch in Igarashi’s apartment, but it was too late to go back. I hurried through the humid night, passing by the convenience store near the apartment. Remembering that I was hungry, I turned around. No, wait, I don’t have any money.  But I went ahead and took a peek at the clock at the cash register before I turned the corner again; just before one o’clock… ‘I wonder if Tounoin is asleep,’ I thought, and then I realized: I don’t have my keys. I still haven’t made another spare since I lost the last one, and the last time I left the apartment I was with Tounoin, so I didn’t realize that I would need it. I’m in trouble… guess I’ll have to camp outside of the door again…

I knocked several times, but there was no answer and the door didn’t open. I twisted the knob, hoping that it would work — the door was unlocked. It was dark in the cool, air-conditioned room, and Tounoin seemed to have fallen asleep. Feeling like a curfew-breaking teenager, I stealthily took off my shoes and entered the room, trying to dampen the sound of my footsteps. Tounoin was in the bed, asleep. I slipped my violin case on the shelf and walked quietly to open the door of the cabin without making any noise. I took a quick shower (the hot water needs some time to come out, but I didn’t want to wake up Tounoin), changed into my pajamas, and crept into the kitchen to get at least a piece of bread. I found a sandwich from the convenience store sitting on the table, a box of cup soup, a cup and a pot of hot water. As I took a bite, my heart was filled with a sincere feeling. ‘You’re a good guy, Tounoin…’ as my rumbling stomach settled down, I was ready to forget about what stupid Oyama had done to me, that damn drunk. I turned off the lights in the cabin and snuck back into the main room. I slipped into the space Tounoin had left open for me, and breathed a sigh of relief.

I heard a half-asleep voice say, “Oh… you’re back…”

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Did you finish the transcription?”

“It was an all-nighter, eighteen hours of work.”

“...are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just want to go to sleep.”

“Good night.”

“Good night,” I said, and I fell asleep right away… around what seemed to be dawn I woke up because it was cold, but it was too much effort to get up and turn off the air conditioner, so I chose to huddle closer to the warmth that was near me. It was so warm… Tounoin seemed to notice and hugged my shoulder, but I was already drifting back to sleep so I didn’t know, and didn’t care. I’m not sure if it’s because I trusted that I would be safe with Tounoin, or because I believed he was different from Oyama and that narcissistic, violent homosexual Yasaka. 

—

The next day was super, as if all the bad luck I had been having was turned upside-down. It was literally my lucky day. First of all, the manager of the bank came to visit me with a gift. He told me that due to a computer processing error, my salary — which should have been deposited into my account — had been transferred to another customer’s account. The manager bowed his grasshopper-like bald head and said, “Please keep this matter to yourself.” He left me a noshi envelope with a greeting card and a brush writing on it. Inside was two months of my salary. I showed it to Tounoin.

“This is how much they gave.” 

He sniffed in frustration, “I’m not sure if that is adequate compensation for their part in causing these difficulties.”

“Well, yes, but it’s all over now…”

“If that’s what you want, then it’s not my place to tell you otherwise.”

“But I feel bad, you know… crashing in front of your apartment and all…”

“I was happy to do it,” Tounoin said, turning away from me with a sigh. I remembered that I needed to find a new apartment as soon as possible; I felt bad staying here forever. 

The second lucky break came at a real estate agency in a neighboring town, where I went separately from Tounoin.

“There’s a one-bedroom and bath for 40,000 yen, a three-year old condo on the 6th floor.”

“In Fujimi-cho?” I was about to jump for it without question, but the old owner’s eyes flashed behind his glasses.

“To be honest, it’s been hard to keep occupied. Since this past April, three people have already left within a month of each other.”

“No way… did somebody just move out again?” The realtor shook his head in disbelief. 

“The person in the apartment above play music loudly at all hours of the night and day. But you can’t complain about it, because it’s occupied by the landlord’s son, so you know…”

What? Could that be…? “Is it a tall apartment building down the corner from a convenience store…?”

“Oh, do you know it? It belongs to the bank president, so the facilities are top-notch, but just that one room on the 6th floor has been vacant since June. The floor is the only part that isn’t soundproof, and nobody could stand the ‘noise’ coming from the ceiling. So the rent has been discounted by 80,000 yen.”

“How big is it?” The realtor gave me a look like I shouldn’t ask, but told me that it was a Japanese-style eight-tatami-mat room with a four-and-a-half-tatami dining and kitchen. It also had AC and heating. “I’ll take it,” I said. “40,000 for a one bedroom with bath, AC and background music is too good to be true, I’d even put up with a ghost or two.”

“Well, if you say so…” the agent pulled out a contract with a face that said ‘Don’t come crying to me later.’ The name on the rental contract was ‘Inmitsu Tounoin.’ I thought of an old gentleman with gray hair, but if he was Tounoin’s father he couldn’t be that old. Rent can be paid via bank transfer; so, he’s the son of a banker, I knew he wasn’t a commoner. I’ve got three months’ deposit and money for the key, plus rent for this month and next month thanks to the ‘condolences’ money from the bank —but that’s a small price to pay for luck. “Ah, also I’d like you to get a guarantor.” The agent pointed to a blank space on the contract, “Here’s where your name and address are, please put your seal here.”

“Is it okay if I bring it back in a couple of days?”

“Yes, that’s fine. Here’s the address. Oh, right, you know where it is, don’t you? Now, the key.”

I took the key and asked, “Which bank president is the landlord?”

“Fujimi Bank, sir?” He looked at me like he couldn’t possibly not know the president of a long-established bank in this area. 

“Oh… and that’s located in…”

“It’s in Seijo. But I’m the property manager. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask me.” It seems that I wouldn’t have a chance to cross paths with Tounoin’s father; I was a little curious what kind of person he is. On my way home, I stopped by Ishida-san’s Mozart. 

“Oh, in Tounoin’s building?” He smiled and said, “Well, I’m glad you found a nice place.” He smiled and said, “Since you found an apartment…” he pulled out a cardboard box from under the counter. It was full of sheets, towels, tea bowls, cups, pots and pans… “Kawashima-san is indeed a solid office worker. She made a ‘list of items needed to reconstruct a house’ rather than just gathering donation money, asked people to give their unused items from their houses, and it turned out to be enough for a whole house. That was the idea.”

“She’s going to make a great wife, I’m sure.” She knew that I’d mind if it was money, so she collected practical items. The fish that gets away is always big… “Um, so, could I get some coffee vouchers?”

“You don’t have to give anything back in return.”

“Yes, but I want to give something to Tounoin-san.”

“Oh, I see. So you want some coffee coupons?”

“It’s practical, isn’t it? Please, I’ll take three books of ten vouchers.” Ishida-san smiled a little apologetically; I’m sure that he knows I’m buying them as a way to repay him for the money he gave me when he visited.

“By the way, I’d like to talk to you about something,” Ishida-san stepped up to the counter, changing from owner of Mozart to that of Fujimi caretaker, “For our next piece, why don’t we do Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto?”

“A violin concerto?” 

Ishida-san looked around quickly and whispered with conspiratorial enthusiasm, “I got the hall reserved at the Civic Center. There was a cancellation for Sunday, November 27th.”

“So… would it be a regular concert?”

“Not anymore, it would be a proper concert.”

“Oh, are you sure we have enough time to prepare?” Ishida-san nodded smugly as I was leaning over the counter.

“I was thinking that we should do it this year, now that we have Tounoin-san with us. I really wanted to do it after New Year’s, but I heard that the hall would be under renovation from January to May. I happened across that cancellation, so I jumped at the chance even though I was a bit busy.”

“Yes, I’ll do it, I’ll do it.”

“So I thought I’d like to include the Mendelssohn.”

“That sounds great! But… what about the soloist?”

“There’s already one,” Ishida-san pointed at me.

“Me…? I’ll be the soloist?”

“Icchan agrees.” Come on…

“But we’ve never done a piece with a solo before…”

“So that’s why we should do it. It’s good for us to do one once and awhile.”

“But then what about the first violins…”

“We have Goto-chan, Miyake-chan, Kijima-san, Nitta-san, Yoshiko Suzuki-san, Hirota-san… why don’t you ask Haruyama-san to join from the seconds?”

“Then the second violins would be Ichiyama-san, Higashi-san, Hirai-san…”

“Seven people would be enough, right?”

“Yes, in terms of just numbers…” but when it came to balance of competence...

The door chime rang and a group of housewives walked in, and Ishida-san turned to welcome them and prepare some glasses of water. “Well, you should think about it, and discuss it with Tounoin-kun.”

“Yes, I’ve always wanted to do a concerto, but…”

“All the strings were saying that they wanted Morimura-chan to do a solo.”

“Hah...haha.”

—-

On my way home my feet were skipping lightly. ‘We can have a concert, we can have a concert. For the first time in two years, Fujimi can have a concert!’ I ran around the corner, bounded up the stairs and opened the door with my freshly made spare key. The sound of the Brandenburg Concerto hit me, but I was deaf to it today.

“Tounoin! Tounoin! I slid down on my knees in front of him, where he was sitting cross-legged in his usual spot. “We’re having a concert! November 27th!”

Tounoin made a gesture of ‘I can’t hear you, please wait’ and went to stop the music. As soon as the sound stopped, I repeated myself, “A concert has been scheduled! Sunday, November 27th, Shimin Kaikan Hall! Ishida-san was able to get a date because of a cancellation, and asked me if I wanted to play the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto!”

Tounoin looked at me from in front of the console, and I realized that I was very excited in contrast to his calm demeanor. My face flushed. “No, but do you know, it’s been two years since we had a concert.”

“November?” Said Tounoin in a cold voice.

“I know it’s soon, so it’s going to be hard, but it’s at the end of the month… so it’s about three months away, right?

Tounoin’s complexion softened, “It depends on how we do it. I don’t mind.”

“Really? Great…! So…” he glanced at the envelope in my hand.

“Oh, did you get something?”

“I was kind of lucky today, I found an apartment as well.” I pulled the contract out of the envelope, and when I was about to show it to him, I noticed the look in his eyes was somewhat complicated. At once I felt something flutter in my stomach; it was the first time I felt that. “It wasn’t a bad idea to crash here, but it was an emergency situation for both of us. Anyway, the place I got is cheap, well-equipped, and convenient. I’ve already signed the contract.”

“That’s good to hear,” said Tounoin with a deep sigh. If I remained here, it would only cause more suffering… the word ‘Love’ is very similar to the word ‘Strange’...

“Well, actually, I do need a guarantor,” I opened the contract and placed it in front of him. “Would you mind?”

“Yeah, well that’s already...” he said as he picked up the contract with a hand that was trying not to show his reluctance… I froze. I wasn’t sure if this was a good idea or not, his normally cool, long eyes were round.

“Not bad, huh?” I asked. Tounoin secretly panicked and turned his head, pretending to read the contract. 

“...It’s okay, I guess. How much is it?”

“40,000. But it’s only a minute’s walk to the civic center. I think it’s great. Now, why don’t you say something?”

With his head down, Tounoin patted various pockets. Then, “I’ll go get a pen,” he said.

“I’ll also need your seal,” I said, starting to stand up.

“Please stay here,” Tounoin said, “...I’m afraid I’m going to have to hug you.” Then he ran off into the cabin. I laughed, I couldn’t believe that the man who sells himself on his pride and arrogance lost his nerve like that. Just because I happened to get an apartment in the same building as his, that’s all. Then I felt a stinging pain in my heart at the thought. I got up and went into the cabin, but when I saw Tounoin’s back at the kitchen table, I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t have the right to ask him if he wanted to continue being a snake charmer for the rest of our lives, and it’s hypocritical for me to consider his feelings when I made the decision that I wanted to be his friend and nothing more… I pulled another envelope out of my pocket and approached his back.

I was spoiled by his kindness, but that together with when he agreed to give up on pursuing me, for the time being made us even. “And also this. I don’t know if I can thank you enough, but I mean, I feel…” I put the envelope over his shoulder on the table. 

He opened it as delicately as if it were a sparrow’s tapestry and froze again, but this time he got over it in an instant. “Thank you, I’ll treat you to Mozart’s coffee for the time being.” He turned around and had put on his poker face… ha, he’s not good at accepting this.

“Yeah, I’m sure we’ll be over there to talk about everything until the performance.” Here as well.

“‘I’ll never go out with you for coffee or dinner,’' He said with a smile, reminding me of what I had told him. After all, this was the game between us. I want to make sure that we are friends, and Tounoin wants to develop into lovers. But I won’t be the one to lose.

—-

I woke up in the middle of the night after being kicked twice. The next morning, while Tounoin was making coffee and I was cooking bacon and eggs, I mentioned it to him.

“Well, you stole the blanket twice and gave me an uppercut,” he replied.

“I think even a double bed is too small for two men.”

When I glared at him, he said, “Well, it’s big enough if you’re embracing each other,” and laughed… that was the first time I ever heard Tounoin laugh out loud. The kitchen here is nice and bright. For the one in my apartment, it remains to be seen.

[explodoteakills]

I love how Bakugo was the first one Uraraka thought of, and immediately at that.

[apriumjam]

Satsuriku no Tenshi Light Novel Volume 2 - Prologue

Satsuriku no Tenshi - Blessing in Disguise - Prologue

Story by Makoto Sanada, written by Chiren Kina, illustrations by Negiyan, translations by me.

If you want to help out with translations, feel free to contact me!

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Eddie’s Memory | Her Memory of Cathy || Index

The elevator reeks with the stench of fresh blood. The silence is so complete that Ray can hear her own heartbeat thundering in her chest – and her anxiety rises to a fever pitch.

Her calm blue eyes are like that of a still lake at the dead of night. And those quiet eyes of hers reflect only the gaping red wound in Zack’s stomach. It’s painful to look at. Ray slips her trembling hands beneath Zack’s shoulders, and attempts to pull him from the gloomy elevator.

(Heavy…)

However, Zack is unconscious, which makes doing anything of the sort extremely difficult. But she can’t just leave him there. Somehow, using all her strength, she manages to drag him out.

Blood falls to the ground like a pitter patter of rain drops as she drags the man out, the act of pulling him causing more blood to flow.

“Haah…”

(My hands are numb…)

Her body suddenly loses its energy. It’s at that moment that, at the corner of her eye, she suddenly notices a flickering light fall to the ground. Looking behind her, she can see the entire hallway has candles uniformly dispersed along the walls. The lights seem to continue on indefinitely.

(It’s different from the floors before…)

As she gazes down the rather solemn hallway, for some reason, she feels her heart jolt a little. Even throughout B3, she had felt an inorganic atmosphere characteristic of a building. But she can’t feel that at all anymore. She’s seized by the feeling that she’s accidentally wandered into some sort of dignified castle or mansion. But the elevator has, like all the floors before it, “B2” written in red letters.

B2 – they’ve finally come this far. But why did it have to be like this? Ray takes a deep breath to get her bearings, then musters the rest of her strength to take Zack to a wall.

“Zack, we’re on B2,” she whispers quietly, peering into his face as she sits on the ground in front of him.

“…” But he doesn’t respond. Ray’s heart pounds even further at the foreboding thought that this could be the worst possible situation. What should she do? How can she get Zack to open his eyes? He looks so pitiful – as if he might die—and Ray can’t possibly think things calmly like she normally does.

(…Zack.)

It seems unbelievable that after killing Cathy, they had gotten onto the elevator and simply exchanged a normal conversation. However, after falling prey to that woman’s numerous traps, and even injecting himself with strange drugs, Zack’s body is entirely hurt. It wasn’t that strange for that to happen to him.

If Zack doesn’t wake up…the promise we made…

Trying to dispel all the misgivings she feels, Ray takes a deep breath. The terrible end she imagines this coming to, so awfully vivid that it makes her want to close her eyes, is likely nothing more than despair.

(Zack, no…I don’t want this.)

You swore to kill me. You swore to God.

Please…wake up, Zack.

Praying fervently, she stares intently at Zack’s closed eyes, nearly covered by the bandages that wrap his face.

“…”

And, then as if her prayers had been heard – Zack’s eyes flutter open, his face warping in pain.

“Zack, thank goodness…!” Ray’s voice can’t help but grow strained with relief.

“…Aah? We made it…?” His voice hardly leaks out. But his vision is hazy and dark; he can’t see very well. He’s only able to figure out that they aren’t on the elevator due to the strange silence.

“Yes, we’re on B2. But…”

“B2…then let’s go.” He appears unconcerned about the state of his own body. He immediately attempts to stand.

“No! You’re still bleeding!” Ray immediately grabs at the grey sleeves of Zack’s hoodie, trying to stop his reckless movements.

“Huh? …Blood? This is nothin’.” Zack is as impertinent as a child. He doesn’t even attempt to look at his own wound, and Ray’s face pulls into a frown.

“No. The wound isn’t closed – if it opens even more, that’ll be dangerous.”

“I already told ya, it’s fine…” Though Zack attempts to appear strong, his voice isn’t nearly as energetic as it once was. On the contrary, it’s hoarse, as if he might go out again at any moment.

“…No.” Ray looks up at Zack’s face with an expression of sorrow the likes of which she hasn’t shown before. If she says “yes, let’s go” now, Zack will simply push forward, even if he has to drag himself. But that’s simply absurd in this situation. Not to mention that it’s obvious they should rest until the wound closes.

“Huh? Ray…”

In his blurry vision, he sees her making a strange expression, one he’s never seen before. He dimly feels like it might be a bit of a human-like expression. But, because of the intense pain, his consciousness drifts away once more.

“What are ya…makin’ that weird face for…”

Zack’s snakelike eyes narrow even further as he stares into Ray’s muddy blue ones. He sees himself reflected in those eyes as she stares at him intensely. He wonders why – that expression is quite odd.

(Weird face…?)

Why would he say something like that at a time like this? Ray’s eyebrows furrow slightly.

“I’m making a weird face…?” she quietly asks, turning her face away a little. She can’t exactly see her own face, but if it really does look that weird, she would rather he not look at her. But Zack doesn’t respond.

“…Zack?”

She has a bad feeling. Fearfully looking up, she sees that his eyes are closed. That sharp, gleaming golden eye is hidden beneath the bandages winding about his face.

He’s unconscious…

But she is once again assailed by distress, causing her heart to beat harshly.

“…Zack!”

She feels like if she calls that name again, he might open his eyes once more. But his eyelids don’t even twitch. It doesn’t seem he’s about to wake up, either.

Cautiously bringing her face closer to his, she notes that she can feel him breathing.

(It’s okay, he’s just asleep…)

Zack is still alive.

Relieved, she exhales slightly. But she has no time to sit around leisurely. If she doesn’t do something about this soon, Zack will die.

However, it’s not realistic for her to drag his heavy body around. She has no idea what might be lurking on the rest of this floor.

In addition, fresh blood continues to drip from the wound he gave himself. She always carries a sewing kit, with thread and needle. But there’s no point in sewing the wound right now. If she doesn’t stop the bleeding and disinfect the injury soon, the worst possible situation might happen.

(If Zack dies, that’ll be a problem…)

Dark clouds loom within Ray’s mind. However, as she digs her hand into her bag, she sees that she has nothing for first aid. Just what should she do…? She hangs her head in the face of encroaching despair.

If he dies, I won’t be able to get him to kill me…

Her emotionless eyes reflect the horrible wound on his stomach.

“When we get outta here together…I’ll kill you.”

That promise resonates within her ears.

However, she continues looking at the softly breathing Zack, expression unchanging. The blood dripping from his injury is painful to look at. But Zack had done that to himself for no one else but her.

With a soft sigh, she stands.

As she looks down at him, her heart wells up with an emotion she has never felt before. She still doesn’t understand what that might mean. There’s only one thing she knows: that she must leave Zack here to go and find medicine or a first aid kit, on her own –

“…Zack, wait just a bit.”

Seeing Zack lying there motionlessly makes it seem as if all his energy and liveliness earlier had been merely a lie. It gives her pause to leave him in such a dangerous place while he hovers between life and death. Someone might come. And it wouldn’t be strange for an ordinary person to lose complete consciousness in this situation. But she can’t just continue standing around here.

(First of all, I’ll look to see if there’s any medicine on this floor…)

The promise she had made with Zack cuts deep into her heart, as if at some point it had become a part of her.

I’ll definitely be useful to you…so, until then, please…

The words Zack had spoken to her ever since they had made the promise on B5….cradling them all, her hands form into fists.

Looking back at Zack just once more, she advances down the hall to the next room. She’s worried about him. But she doesn’t think to look back again. She only has a bit of time left –

Previous | Next

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[witchhuntress]

Update (GH and Orphen)

Hello, everyone! I’m back! Merry Christmas!!!

I’d been really, really sick lately, so I had time off any social media.

For GH ch 11 manga, it’ll be out tomorrow or in the weekend, probably. I’m still going to finish cleaning ch 12 and other stuff. To those who requested access for ch 11 and 12 translations, no worries. I’ll be working on the scans, so when you read them, it’ll be with images, rather than just text.

I can see that ch 13 is already online, but I’ll wait for my own raws so that everything is clearer for me (fonts are so small online).

I'll also continue with the light novel 's part 2 of 3.6. Then I'll probably post half of 4.1 here. I'm doing them in halves for now since I have some other things to do. When I don't have much to do, I'll post the parts in entirety.

As to Orphen, I’ll be posting the translations here. I’ll have a link page for the translations. I’ll be starting with the side story, since I accidentally started on it before, thinking it was vol. 1 (didn’t look at the cover properly, oops).

[holdharmonysacred]

So 

Uh

Has anyone at least STARTED translating Fate/apocrypha yet????

Or do we have to wait a few years before someones actually does????

Seriously has anyone done it or

[apriumjam]

Satsuriku no Tenshi Light Novel Volume 1 - B3 (Part 4)

Satsuriku no Tenshi - Until Death Do Them Part - B3 (Part 4)

Story by Makoto Sanada, written by Chiren Kina, illustrations by Negiyan, translations by me.

If you want to help out with translations, feel free to contact me!

Prologue | B7 | B6 | B5 | B4 (Part 1 / Part 2) | B3 (Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4) | Zack’s Memory || Index

A wide, open room spreads out before her, lit by bright fluorescent lights.

The walls and floor are both pure white. It’s as if the room was just recently built, or perhaps recently repainted. There’s not a speck of dirt to be seen. At the far end of the room is a large monitor and a complicated-looking machine; a wall of clear, bulletproof glass serves as a barrier. In other words, this is a dead end.

“…”

(There’s nowhere to go…)

She knows Zack is drawing nearer even without looking behind her.

Taking in a small breath, Ray stands completely still.

…I can’t go back anymore. There wouldn’t be a point even if I did. There’s nowhere to run…

(And nowhere to go home to…)

“Your mother and father…are waiting for you in hell – ”

As she stands there motionlessly, she dimly remembers what Danny had told her while she had lain upon the operating table.

(Doctor…is hell an even worse place than that house…?)

She slowly turns to face the entrance to the room.

Zack stands there silently, not even a bit out of breath. And the Zack staring at her right now looks different than both the Zack she had first met, and the Zack who had accompanied her to this floor. He stares at her with hollow eyes.

“…”

Wordlessly, slowly, he approaches her. Then, he lifts up the grim reaper-like scythe once more, and brandishes it toward her.

(Zack, I’m sorry…I’m going to make you a liar…)

She slowly closes her eyes.

(…But…if he kills me here, I’m sure that I can go to heaven…)

Secretly, beneath her eyelids, this is what she thinks.

And then –

“Bang!”

A loud noise reverberates throughout the room – so loud it makes her heart seize.

(…!)

A bad feeling stirs within her. After all – that was unmistakably the sound of gunfire.

She opens her eyes wide, and sees Zack kneeling on the ground, hanging his head as he crouches there. Blood spills from his calves, staining the floor like some kind of juice.

“Ahahahah!”

Cathy appears behind the glass along with that insane laughter.

“So sorry for cutting things short just while things were getting good! This is my gun room, so I shot you.” Cathy’s voice is calm as Ray stares at her dumbfoundedly.

“…Gun room.”

“Yes. Just look around at all those guns pointing at you! I can make them aaaall shoot you with just a flick of this button. Amazing, right?” As she speaks, a number of gun muzzles poke out from the white walls. They’re surrounded at all sides – this definitely isn’t something they can avoid, like at B3’s entrance.

“Ah, putting that aside…watching your fall out just now…was veeery thrilling! Especially you, Zack! You truly are my ideal sinner! You struggle and writhe, but in the end, you truly can’t hold back your impulses! How wonderful…!” Cathy speaks to him in an ecstatic tone of voice – though her words don’t match her appearance of a lovestruck maiden. Just remembering how Zack had looked as he had abruptly changed expression and given chase after Ray makes Cathy tremble in excitement.

“…Shut…up…!” Zack slowly stands, dragging himself to his feet, and glowers at Cathy from behind the wall.

“…Zack!” Reacting to his voice, Ray instinctively rushes up to him.

“Stay away! I’ll kill you!” he barks out in rejection, glaring at her sharply.

“See? It seemed like you got a little control back from the pain, but look at you. You just can’t…hold back, can you?” Cathy licks her lips as she watches Zack desperately trying to stop himself from raising a hand against Ray. She speaks with the full intent of provoking him.

“Aah?! You just try to piss everyone off! I’ll kill ya!”

“Ahahahah, I only speak the truth. And the one who is going to be killed is the sinner – in other words, you, Zack. …Look. Rachel Gardner. I’ll give you this.”

From behind the bulletproof glass, Cathy tosses a red gun over to land at Ray’s feet, as if it were a piece of trash.

“You’ll be even with that, right? Now, kill each other! And then I’ll give the winner an even more splendid punishment!” She laughs shrilly, sounding entertained from the bottom of her heart.

In her insane mind, she vividly sees Zack and Ray’s beautiful battle. Her chest bursts with her insatiable desire to see it, to see it now.

(Kill each other – )

After a brief silence –

“…What’s the point in doing something like that?” Ray asks disinterestedly. Cathy’s expression changes immediately.

“Haah? Oh, stop it. You truly are boring. What’s the point in looking for something like meaning? Do you think something will come out of it? A sinner can’t accomplish anything. So there’s no need to look for meanings in anything you do.”

Cathy’s expression doesn’t fit a beautiful woman at all.

(…Boring…)

Ray falls into silence once more.

“…How fuckin’ boring…being some doll’s tool…”

(Zack thinks I’m boring, too…)

Did mom and dad not listen to me…because they also thought I was boring…?

(…But all I wanted…was to have a puppy…)

Why did things turn out this way?

On that cold night, the puppy had stared at her from out of that dirty, broken cardboard box, as if asking for helped. Thinking of that lovely face, Ray gently leans down to pick up the gun.

(It’s heavy…)

That feeling causes Ray’s memories to grow even more vivid.

“Now, entertain me…!”

Cathy’s voice grows more excited. She sees Ray’s movement as a signal that her awaited match is about to start.

(…Entertain…)

…But that wasn’t…entertaining…

“If yer gonna shoot, hurry up,” Zack says. The girl stands motionlessly in front of him, not even lifting the gun to point it at him.

“Hey, could it be, you’re afraid of pulling the trigger? You can’t escape from being a boring, uninteresting girl?” Cathy attempts to goad her into action. It’s almost like Ray really has become a doll.

“…No.” Staring fixatedly at the gun she holds, she says this clearly.

“Hey, Ray, even if ya don’t shoot me, I can’t stop myself from killing!” Zack yells, his eyebrows furrowing beneath his bandages.

The pointed end of the scythe trembles near the skin of Ray’s pale neck, skin which has never been burnt by the sun. But the blade doesn’t feel cold anymore.

“…I won’t shoot you.” After looking away for a moment, she says this firmly and resolutely.

“…That so. But I wanna kill so bad I can’t help it!” Zack’s voice is mixed with sorrow and frustration.

(Argh, shit!)

I don’t wanna kill ya like this. This is fuckin’ humiliating. I can’t even control myself. I know I don’t wanna kill ya right now.

But he can’t – stop.

(I wanna kill…)

When I try to think, that’s all I can think about. I want to feel that thrill so much. But if I killed you right now, I wouldn’t. All I want to do…is kill someone with my own two hands. I feel like I’m going insane.

“Haah…haah…”

Zack looks as if he’s trying to stop himself. His breathing becomes more and more ragged.

“…I’m sorry. I’m going to make you kill me while I’m still boring.” Ray sounds as if she understands everything.

“Yeah, yer right…! I’ll feel like shit! That’s why I told ya t’ shoot me already! Ya won’t miss from this range!” Halfway through, his voice changes as if to try to persuade her.

“…I won’t shoot you.” This is her will. It won’t change, no matter what happens.

(I won’t kill Zack…)

Because Zack swore he would kill me –

“Hahahah…what are ya sayin’ at a time like this? Ah, but…that’s right, ya want me t’ kill ya.” Zack’s mouth curves as he laughs humourlessly. But Ray tilts her head to the side.

“That’s true, but that’s not it. …This is my will – ”

And, within the room cloaked in silence, Ray begins to speak.

“I’m fine being killed by you. But…I don’t want…I don’t want this to turn out the way that woman wants. After all…Zack, you and I…aren’t tools.”

She speaks, staring intently into Zack’s eyes.

“So…killing, and being killed…are our own choices.”

And Zack feels as if all his strength leaves him.

…I’m not a tool.

That’s right…that’s right. It’s easy. Why didn’t I realise it before? I really am an idiot.

Aah, Ray. It’s like ya said…killing and being killed are both our choices.

‘Cause if they aren’t, then what the hell are they?

(And I wouldn’t make a pointless promise in the first place – )

“…Hahahahah!”

Zack gives out a large laugh, as if reclaiming his sanity.

“Hey, Ray…what are ya doin’, sayin’ interestin’ stuff now? Aah, I can’t hold back anymore! Hey, at least give me a smile! Now!”

Somewhat agitated, he sidles up to her.

(…Smile.)

Ray closes her eyes.

…When was the last time I smiled?

She feels like it had been when she had taken the puppy home, but she can’t remember.

How did I smile back then? I feel like I always smiled when I saw something cute.

And…I liked the sound of that music box. My favourite music box.

Mom bought it for me when I was seven years old. I was so happy. I listened to it all night. Because listening to that sound always made me just a bit happy…

(I wonder if I’ll be able to smile if I remember that music…)

“…”

She slowly opens her eyes, and looks at Zack.

And shows him a smile with just the corner of her lips, with eyes that look as if they reflect the very end of the world.

“…What a shitty smile. …Yer eyes really are dead.”

That awkward expression seems to sap up the last of his strength. He slowly lifts his scythe, keeping it away from her.

“…But…if yer smile becomes real…it’ll be great. Just imaginin’ myself killin’ ya like that…makes me smile better than anyone else.”

He stares at the monstrous face, wrapped in bandages, reflected back at him from the gleaming blade. And then, he shouts in a voice as loud as the very first time they had met:

“So good…that I could just kill myself!”

And then, he stabs himself in his abdomen with his own scythe, as hard as he can.

(…!)

Dark red blood splatters across Ray’s vision.

“…Zack…!”

(What just happened…?)

She can’t grasp the situation. Overwhelmed with confusion, she rushes up to him.

“What?!” Cathy’s voice rises threateningly.

Zack’s actions have completely and utterly surpassed her expectations. Rather than confused, like Ray is, she’s also enraged. Using the machine, she opens the door in the glass wall. Then, she advances upon Ray, and slaps her pale cheek as hard as she can.

(Ow…)

As if remembering something from the impact of that blow, for an instant, Ray looks up at Cathy with eyes full of hatred.

“Ugh, disgusting! I was wrong about you! You’re a failure of a sinner! Even though I gave you that gun, and all you had to do was pull the trigger! And to think that Isaac Foster was so stupid that he would kill himself to satisfy his own urges – how disappointing!”

Cathy almost sounds as if in mourning. This is the utterly worst situation that could have happened – it doesn’t look like anything she had pictured at all.

(I wanted to see Zack kill Rachel, unable to help himself…! And then I wanted to slowly, carefully take my time punishing him…this has put a damper on everything…!)

As she watches the bright red blood seep from Zack’s wound, she bites her own lips – a vivid red of the same colour.

“Aaah…I wish Zack had been the one left. He would have surely looked better covered in bullet holes…even if you are a sinner, you’re completely boring! Oh, Rachel…you’re so, so boring…!”

Cathy hits Ray on the cheek with all her strength once more, venting her anger.

(…It hurts…)

Ray closes her eyes for an instant. Beneath her eyelids, she can see her mother and father shouting and snarling at one another as they quarrel.

She doesn’t know when it had started anymore. But her father always beat her mother when they fought. It had been painful, and maybe that was why her mother had gone mad. Because her mom hadn’t been that way when she had bought the music box for her…

(But I’m boring now, so that’s why I’m being kicked…? By this woman…)

“…I don’t remember you having the right to decide something like that.” Ray’s voice now has a bit of anger as she looks into the woman’s lined eyes.

“Hah? You’re trying to defy me, you failure of a sinner? Hey…why did someone as boring as you…even come here?”

Cathy looks down at Ray, her large eyes flaring up despite her discomfort at the girl’s actions.

“…Uugh…”

At that moment, a soft groan reaches Ray’s and Cathy’s ears. Zack.

Ray reflexively turns to look at him. The man convulses and twitches slightly.

“…Oh my, he’s still alive! He really is just like a monster…how wonderful!”

Cathy’s abrupt change in attitude is amazing. She rushes up to him as if running to her lover.

“…Are you going to kill him?” Ray asks.

“Of course. After all, I’m the only one who can judge such a splendid sinner…” Cathy answers, as if it should be obvious.

And then, Cathy recalls how Zack had looked on B6 – before he had become a sacrifice, he had been killing sacrifices himself. And his expression had been solely that of a murderer. Seeing him through her cameras – remembering him now – causes a vivid chill to rush through her. It had been so stimulating to see him kill the sacrifices as his instincts and desires bade him to. So unlike her…

(But because of this bitch, he became a sacrifice…)

But, to tell the truth, this is convenient.

Because of her, I can punish him.

“Ahahahah!”

Simply imagining herself killing him has her laughing uncontrollably.

I’ll be the one to execute him…! Because I’m the only condemner here!

(I wonder what face he’ll make as he dies? I can’t wait to see…my chest is absolutely burning!)

…Ring.

And from somewhere, a small bell rings. Of course, Ray is the only one to hear it.

“…Stop.”

As if reacting to that sound, Ray points the gun at Cathy, who looks agitated. Ray’s expression is stiff.

“Oh, my…Rachel, what are you doing now? You want to shoot me? But, sorry to say…that gun wasn’t loaded from the very start! Ahahahah! However…I’m a little impressed by your attitude to point that at me.”

Cathy sneers at Ray mockingly. To her, the girl looks like nothing more than a small deer.

(It’s not…loaded…?)

Seeing Ray waver uncertainly, Cathy reaches into her tight skirt with a smirk. She pulls out a small handgun.

“Bang!”

Her tone is jesting. But she points at the red gun Ray holds with keen precision and shoots it out of her small hand.

“Heheheh…now then, I’ll keep you alive so I can punish you.”

Cathy touches Zack’s body with her red gloved-hands.

Ring…

In that moment, Ray hears that ring again.

(…A blue…full moon…)

When she closes her eyes for just a second, she sees that blue moon. That large, almost artificially blue full moon…

Yes…she remembers the night of that blue moon very well…

Beneath the small light hanging from the ceiling, a man straddles a woman. His face is terrifying, monstrous. The man stabs the woman’s body over and over and over again. She doesn’t move at all, like a doll.

As she had looked upon that scene, she had wished it was a dream. But it wasn’t.

…What happened after, too…

“…No.”

Ray opens her eyes. She mumbles as if waking from a dream, and reaches into the purse slung about her shoulder.

(…I shouldn’t be alive…)

So –

“…I won’t let you kill Zack. Because he’s the one who is going to kill me.”

And then, almost like magic, she pulls a black handgun out of her purse, and points it at Cathy unwaveringly.

In an instant, Cathy removes herself from Zack, and whirls to face the girl.

“…Where did you get that?!” Her face twists in confusion.

One would never believe that Ray were wielding a gun with that calm face of hers.

“Bang.”

And, without even an atom of hesitation, she shoots Cathy in the abdomen.

“…!”

Cathy is mute from astonishment. She could have never expected this to happen.

(Why does she have a gun…? I don’t understand…)

But she doesn’t have time to wonder about her situation right now. A sharp pain from her abdomen makes her unable to stand. She falls to the ground.

“Aaargh…! Where did you get that gun?!” she screams, trying to drown out the pain.

“…” Ray silently looks down at her. Her eyes are cold. They hide no emotion.

But why? For an instant, as Cathy looks into those emotionless eyes and sees herself reflected in them, she feels a thrill.

“Ahahah! Rachel, you’ve shown your true colours! …Amazing!”

Cathy’s laughter becomes more and more deranged as she bathes in that strange sensation. She crawls along the floor, drawing nearer to Ray’s legs.

(…Why does she look so happy…?)

Ray tilts her head at the abnormality of the situation. For some reason, Cathy’s expression is creepily delighted to her.

“Hey, Rachel. I’ll judge you, okay…? No, I will judge you…I’ll judge the demon hiding beneath that composed face of yours…!”

Cathy speaks almost coquettishly at first as she staggers to her feet; then her voice grows rougher. She holds her gun up to point it at Ray.

“…Shut up.”

Someone whispers.

That harsh tone isn’t Ray’s.

“Eh?”

Slowly, Cathy turns around. Behind her stands Zack, thirsty for blood.

“What are ya lookin’ so happy for when ya got shot, you sadomasochistic bitch?” He sounds groggy, as if he’s just gotten up from bed. He lifts his scythe.

“’Cause of yer annoyin’ voice, I wanna kill so bad…that I woke up!”

With a bout of insane laughter, Zack slices off Cathy’s pale arm. For a second, she doesn’t recognise the shape as if falls in an arc.

“Aaargh?!” The moment she realises that arm to be hers, a hot pain of the likes she’s never felt before rushes through her body. Helplessly, lets out a scream of anguish.

“This…can’t be real…”

Her vision swims as she looks up at Zack with an expression of despair.

(Why…? I was going to punish Zack…!)

I’m not a sinner. I’m always right. So it’s not right for me to be killed…

“This is reality! Wake up!” Zack yells. He sounds as if he’s talking to both himself and to her. Then, he slices Cathy’s abdomen from top to bottom. Cathy falls, her body twisting unnaturally. Zack seems satisfied as he looks upon her and smiles.

“…Ah, but…guess ya fell asleep anyway.”

His expression turns to disgust as he looks down at Cathy’s body, lying on the ground like a motionless doll.

(Aah…this is the worst…that I would be killed by a sinner…)

Cathy’s eyes close to the world that whirls around her, as if to sleep. Her mascara is perfectly applied to her long eyelashes.

(But…it’s awful, but…it’s wonderful…)

She laughs. She has been killed by Zack.

And then, in the pool of her own blood, like melting chocolate, she stops breathing.

She will never wake up. She can’t judge people as good or bad anymore.

In her life, she had been a sheltered girl; she had fallen into ruin due to troubles in her family; and then she had worked at a jail. There was only one thing that remained the same throughout all the lives she had led. And that was that she judged sinners.

(…I am…the condemner…)

All Cathy knows is that in the darkness, there are no good or bad people.

▲▽

“…Zack.”

As Cathy’s vision grows dark, Ray rushes to Zack’s side as quickly as she can.

“Yeah…” Zack looks down at her with a somewhat uncomfortable expression. All the madness has left him.

“Zack…are you okay?”

(…Did the poison wear off…?)

Ray feels relieved to hear his gentle voice.

“Aah?! My stomach hurts, what d’ya think?!” Zack answers briskly.

“…”

(His stomach hurts…?)

Ray looks astonished.

She didn’t think she would hear those words from someone who had cut themselves a few minutes ago. After all, Zack looks calm and composed, to the point she nearly forgets her worry.

(…So he can’t be okay. But…he looks fine. But if I’m too pushy, he’ll get upset…)

“Um…don’t push yourself too much.”

After careful consideration, this is what she says.

“Shut up. You worry about yerself.”

But Zack is annoyed at her concern, and speaks with a delight one would not associate to an injured man.

“Anyway, did ya see her face?!”

“…Yeah.”

Feeling somewhat overwhelmed by how much energy he has, she gives a quiet nod.

“That was great! And ya did pretty good, too!” Zack grins as he recalls the expression of despair Cathy had made when he had raised his weapon at her. It was as if she had become just a normal woman. Simply remembering that wretched face has Zack in a good mood. He feels as if all his pain might simply melt away.

“…Really?”

“Yeah! I feel all better now!”

“…That’s good.” Looking at Zack’s satisfied expression, Ray can’t help but feel rather complicated.

(That woman really did end up getting killed by him after all…)

She feels a bit as if she’s been defeated by something.

(I wonder…if Zack had killed me back then, if I would be in heaven now.)

She’s lost in thought for a moment as she thinks of that place; a place no one on this world has ever been to.

“So, now that the bitch is gone, let’s go.”

Zack lightly smacks Ray on the top of the head as she continues to look down at the ground glumly.

“Eh…? Your stomach…are you okay now?”

“Ah? It just hurts a little, it’s nothin’,” he replies. It’s true that he’s in pain. But – it almost doesn’t seem like he’s cut himself that deep. The pain is ebbing away. And that’s impossible – but Zack doesn’t wonder about it.

All he does is think privately to himself – I really might be a monster.

Ray can only be surprised at Zack’s resilience. After getting shocked and escaping from a room of poison gas, he seems to be lively and energetic. It’s true that he has a resilience normal people don’t have.

“Okay…I’m sure there’s an elevator somewhere ahead.”

Whilst yet finding his apparent immortality to be utterly baffling, the girl points to the other side of the glass wall.

“Then let’s get goin’.”

“Okay…”

(…Is he really all right?)

In the room with Cathy’s large machine is a passageway marked EV. Ray predicts that this means it leads to the elevator. However, the door is locked.

“Hey, Ray. The door won’t open,” Zack says, kicking it.

“Wait. I’ll open it now.” Ray flicks the switch that says EV up. The machine also has numerous other buttons and switches, like “electric chair”, “dolls”, “applause”, and so on.

“Oh, it’s open now.”

“It looks like she was using that machine to do all sorts of things…”

“Aah? She was doin’ somethin’ that stupid? What an annoyin’ person.” Zack’s statement is intermingled with a yawn.

“Yeah.” Ray nods as she recalls Cathy with cold eyes. That is an expression Ray shows when she’s angry. But Zack doesn’t notice that slight change.

“Hey, Zack.”

“What is it?”

“…We aren’t tools.” As if to push away the rage she feels toward Cathy, Ray repeats the words she had said earlier.

“Yeah, we aren’t.” Laughing lightly, Zack turns his back on Cathy’s dead body.

“We goin’?”

“Yeah.”

Then, the two of them finally proceed through the now open door.

▲▽

Walking down the hall, they find that there really is an elevator there. Ray pushes the up button. But the doors don’t open. No matter how many times she presses the button, the elevator doesn’t give any indication that it will open for them.

(…Why?)

“…The elevator won’t work.” Ray tilts her head in confusion as she glances toward Zack.

“Huh? We came all this way, ‘n this happens. Maybe ya gotta use that machine?” Zack clicks his tongue.

“Maybe, but I didn’t see a switch like that…”

“So what are we gonna do?”

“I’ll think of a way to open it…”

“Hurry up, my stomach hurts.”

“Okay, I’ll try.”

(Is there some sort of mechanism…?)

Ray is somewhat worried. No matter how Zack appears to be, it’s obvious that they must get out of here quickly and treat his injury. Because it’s still slowly bleeding.

(But…is it because he won’t kill me unless the wound is healed…?)

As she comes upon that strange thought, she suddenly realises that there is something written on the opposite wall to the elevator.

“If you wish to open the door, pronounce your name to God.

“If you are free of lies, give the name that resides within you,

“And then know yourself.

“However, know that God has no need of the impure.”

There is nothing else that would appear to point toward how to open the door. Therefore, Ray can only assume that this must be a hint.

(If you wish to open the door, give your name to God…)

“Rachel Gardner.”

With a small voice, Ray faces the elevators and whispers her name. However, the doors don’t open.

(So that didn’t work…)

As if to divert her gaze from the truth, Ray looks away.

(Or maybe – )

“Hey, Zack…I want you to say your full name in front of the elevator.”

With just a slight amount of pain in her expression, Ray asks this of Zack.

“Aah? Why?” His face twists in a scowl.

“Because the doors might open…” Her voice sounds like it might fade at any moment.

“Your name won’t work?”

“…No.”

(…God has no need of the impure…)

The words scrawl across her vision. They pierce her heart.

“Well, whatever…Isaac Foster.”

Despite feeling confused by Ray’s instructions, the man recites his name as asked. And then, with splendid timing, the doors indeed open. It’s as if someone had been operating the elevator from somewhere else.

“What the hell, seriously?!”

Zack seems utterly delighted, almost viewing the door’s trick as some sort of magic. He quickly steps into the elevator.

(It opened…so, my name wasn’t good…)

I really am…

Her heart throbs in her chest. With a grim but determined expression, Ray embarks upon the elevator as well.

▲▽

“Hey, Zack…were you happy when you cut open your own stomach?” Ray asks as the elevator finally begins to move.

“Huh? Don’t compare me t’ that sadomasochistic bitch. I just thought it would be better than killin’ ya when ya got that borin’ face, and then gettin’ killed by her.” Zack’s expression is somewhat bitter as he replies.

“I see…”

“…Anyway, that gun ya used wasn’t hers. Where’d ya get it?” His voice is somewhat sharp now.

“…That was my gun…”

Despite feeling somewhat shocked, she replies carefully.

“Where were ya hidin’ that thing?”

“…I wasn’t hiding it. It was in my purse. Wrapped in a handkerchief…I witnessed a murder, so, I’ve always…”

“…Then why didncha use that in the first place?”

“…I won’t kill myself. Because God won’t allow it.”

“No, that’s not what I meant…”

“And, you’re the one who is going to kill me.” Her declaration is resolute, as if to interrupt him – or perhaps to put this topic of discussion behind them.

“Haah…I can’t really tell if yer smart or stupid. …Well, whatever. Ya were right t’ shoot her back then. Yer timing was so good, just rememberin’ it makes me want t’ laugh.” Zack smiles gleefully.

“…You’re in a good mood,” Ray says.

She isn’t sure why, but seeing him look so happy makes her happy as well. That’s what she feels.

“…I guess so. You are, too…yeah?”

But – she doesn’t notice that his voice grows softer and softer.

After a short while, the elevator doors open with what sounds like a thunk. They’ve probably arrived at B2.

Ray takes a single step into the hallway. This floor smells sweet. And the hall is lined with numerous stained-glass windows, almost like a church.

(Pretty…)

She stares down the hallway in fascination for a short time.

However, for some reason, she can’t sense Zack coming out behind her at all.

“…Zack…?”

A terrible feeling assails her from head to toe. Slowly, she turns around.

(…Eh?)

Her gaze falls upon Zack – quietly lying down on the floor in the elevator.

A large pool of blood has formed beneath him from the wound he had given himself earlier.

(…Was that sound earlier…from when he fell…?)

(…He really wasn’t okay…)

Aah…

No…

No…

No, Zack, no…I don’t want this.

Even though he swore he would kill me. Even though he swore to God.

Ray rushes into the elevator and tightly grasps one of Zack’s hands, as if in prayer. Though this hand had previously brought countless people to despair – to Ray, that large hand was that of an angel’s, an angel who would lead her to heaven.

“…Zack…!”

Ray calls his name from the very bottom of her heart, trying to convey those emotions, wishing that he would open his eyes.

In a hollow world that doesn’t contain even despair, Zack faintly hears Ray pleadingly calling his name.

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Satsuriku no Tenshi Light Novel Volume 1 - B3 (Part 3)

Satsuriku no Tenshi - Until Death Do Them Part - B3 (Part 3)

Story by Makoto Sanada, written by Chiren Kina, illustrations by Negiyan, translations by me.

If you want to help out with translations, feel free to contact me!

Prologue | B7 | B6 | B5 | B4 (Part 1 / Part 2) | B3 (Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4) | Zack’s Memory || Index

After a while of walking, the two of them suddenly come across a steep edge, about three-metres deep.

“The hell is this?”

“…”

Swallowing, the two come to a halt.

The ground below the edge is filled with spikes, and the other side of the dim room has been split into two platforms. One side is connected to the floor they stand on by a rope bridge; the other has a series of brilliantly gleaming, gravestone like objects leading to it, like a maze.

On the other side of the room is a large television screen, and one door on either platform. The room is designed so that if one were to slip or lose their footing on either of the paths, they would fall and become impaled on the dangerous spikes below.

“Hey, what are we gonna do?” The moment Zack starts speaking to Ray, sirens resound through the room. The woman appears on the monitor.

((Hiii! I’m impressed you came this far. As you can see, the floor there is filled with dangerous spikes, so, if you fall, you’ll immediately be pierced to death! The two platforms over there lead to different rooms. Though they are a little different…it doesn’t matter which path you choose!))

“A little different…?” Ray asks, inclining her head.

((I don’t have to explain that to you, do I?))

The woman asks, giggling to herself.

((Anyway…don’t you think it’s about time you two broke up? …Your promise is absurdly pointless. Since you’re going to die anyway, it seems like a pretty unfair promise…))

Ray spontaneously looks toward Zack. However, she can’t see his expression very well in the dim room – on top of the fact that his face is wrapped in bandages. The woman, looking at Ray’s trembling features through the camera, continues on nonchalantly.

((…Well, if you die, that ridiculous promise won’t come to fruition anyway. So come along to the next room and try your best, all right? I’m looking forward to seeing which one of you will be punished first!))

(Soon, I should be able to see something wonderful…)

And thus, the woman kills the feed as she always does.

(Pointless…)

Ray grits her teeth slightly. That word feels like it might steal away her hope.

“Talkin’ all in circles like that…when the hell can we get outta this place…? Ugh, I’m so damn pissed off! I wanna kill her already…!” Zack irritably fidgets with his legs, kicking at the floor.

“…” That word once again causes an enormous reaction in Ray, though it doesn’t show on her face. She feels that she wants Zack to kill her already. But the promise she made with Zack – means that they must get out of the building safely first.

(But it’s pointless…?)

“Hey, why are ya still spacin’ out?” Zack asks, his voice even more irritated than before as he looks toward the girl, who hangs her head silently.

“Zack…you have to make sure to kill me when we get outside. Not just that woman.” Ray wants to confirm that their promise isn’t meaningless.

“Aah?! That’s all ya talk about!” Zack clicks his teeth in annoyance as his brows furrow.

“…But, you don’t seem like you’re going to kill me,” Ray says in dissatisfaction, with that emotionless face of hers.

“Huh? It’s ‘cause yer makin’ that boring face! And anyway, the promise we made only matters if we get out!”

“…I know that.”

Ray’s voice falters slightly as Zack’s grows louder.

(I know, but…)

For some reason, Ray can’t even imagine being killed by him.

“If ya know that, then stop jabberin’ about boring things all the time. ‘N do somethin’ about that doll-like face of yours before we get out.” Ray looks as if she still wants to say something, and that makes Zack’s voice grow cold.

“…But.”

“But what?” Zack scowls at her.

“…”

Ray loses her ability to speak as he stares at her with those snakelike eyes.

“Ya know, a promise is a promise…but don’t order me around,” he says firmly, expression grim.

(Order…)

The soft and bitter phrase has Ray turning her gaze away quietly.

“…Okay. I’m sorry.” Now, she rather regrets being so insistent. Her expression turns disheartened. Though, she wonders why. It shocks her for Zack to treat her so coldly. Somehow, while traversing this building with him, Zack has become an existence who she feels would accept everything about her…though there is absolutely no logic or reason for this.

“…So, what are we gonna do?” He sounds apathetic.

“Um…I’ll go over the bridge, and you’ll jump across the stones. I don’t think I’ll be able to jump the gaps. And the rope here looks like it might break, so I think it’ll be best if I cross here.” After taking a deep breath, she’s able to calmly explain Zack what they shall do, just as usual.

“If we go separate ways, we won’t be able t’ go through the same door. Is that okay?”

“I don’t know…she said that the rooms are a little different. But she didn’t say how…”

“Well, either way, it’s prolly a trap,” the man grumbles.

“…Yeah.”

“What? Ya seem worried. You said that we’d take different paths, right? It doesn’t look like we can both go the same way, and we have to move forward anyway. So that’s all we gotta do, right?”

“I know that…”

“Haah…you’ve been makin’ a dumb face for a while now. Still got some of the poison in ya or somethin’?” He simply sounds irritated by her perceived ineptitude.

“I’m okay now.”

“Then what’s bothering you?”

“…Nothing. I’ll try. So – ”

“Ugh, I get it. I know. Ya want me t’ kill ya, right?” He interrupts her, staring directly into her dead eyes.

“…” Shocked, she grows silent. She hadn’t wanted to tell him to kill her. She had wanted to tell him that they would get out, together. But, if she thinks about it, perhaps telling him they would get out together, and telling him he would kill her, are the same thing.

“Anyway, don’t go gettin’ any weird ideas. Don’t die.”

“…Right. It’s okay. I won’t die.”

“That so. Whatever. I’ll go first.”

“Okay.”

Ray carefully crosses the bridge. It takes her a bit of time, but she gets to the other side safely. However, she still can’t see Zack on the other side.

(Zack still isn’t here…I wonder if he’ll be able to get across.)

In that moment, the large monitor displays Zack in the process of making his way to the other side.

(If I just jump far enough, I’ll be able to get across.)

Zack jumps lightly across the stones, making sure not to fall. However, the stones have been constructed like a maze, and it’s not that easy to get across. Before he knows it, he’s leaping aimlessly from one and the other.

“Damnit, how am I supposed t’ do this?”

He isn’t afraid – however, his vexation is steadily growing.

“Zack, go back.”

In that moment, he hears Ray’s voice from the other side of the room. It seems she’s gotten there faster than him.

“Aah?! Why?!”

“I can see you on the monitor. If you go this way, you won’t be able to get to the other side. Zack, just jump where I tell you to.” He’s simply stuck like this. That’s why Ray says this.

(…I told ya not t’ order me around.)

However, to Zack, this was not an especially attractive proposal. Unpleasant memories from his childhood come flooding back. He remains silent. He hates being told what to do.

“…Zack?” She thinks it’s strange that he doesn’t respond. Her head tilts in confusion. Ray has absolutely no intention of ordering anything of him. She simply wants to be useful to him.

“…Yeah, yeah, I just gotta go back.” Despite his anger, he does as asked.

“Okay. Once you go back, jump to the upper right. Then to the upper left…” Looking up at the screen, she gives him the proper directions of how to get to the other side of the room.

(…Aah, she’s just tellin’ me what t’ do.)

The vexation within Zack’s heart grows more and more virulent. He feels like Ray is treating him like her personal tool.

“Next, the lower right.”

In that moment, his rage becomes absolutely unbearable, and he can’t help but yell –

“Hey! I ain’t some video game character! Stop tellin’ me where t’ go!”

“But, I think it’ll be faster if I tell you…and if you don’t know how to get here, it’ll be a bit difficult…” A little surprise leaks into her voice as she protests. She has not even an ounce of ill will.

“It’s fine, there’s only a bit left.” Despite understanding this, he’s still angry. She might not be doing this out of malice, but he feels like he’ll go crazy if she keeps telling him what to do.

“…I see.”

(…He really is upset.)

Feeling a bit ill, she looks away from the screen.

▲▽

After getting to the other side safely, the two proceed through their own individual doors.

(…Huh?)

But they can still see each other. If not for the iron bars separating them as if to keep them from touching, they would be in the same room.

Ray meets Zack’s eyes. The look she sees in them reminds her of when she had first met him on B6 – it looks as if he wants to lash out, an irrational rage he can hardly contain.

“Zack, this room…”

Completely unafraid of that gaze, she draws nearer to him easily.

“Yeah…looks like we’re locked in, and the only stuff in here are these syringes. What’re we supposed t’ do? She tellin’ us t’ get high or somethin’? Hah.” His tone sounds vaguely desperate.

(Syringe?)

She looks around the room once more. In the centre of both their rooms is a table and a syringe containing some sort of drug. Carefully, so as not to touch the sharp needle, she picks up hers.

(…It’s real. What’s inside it?)

Holding it up to the light, she stares intently into the suspicious orange liquid.

“Ahahahah!”

In that moment, a very familiar laughter bounces upon their eardrums – a laughter they’ve heard through the speakers on this floor.

“Hiiii! This is the first time we’ve met in the flesh. I am this floor’s condemner, Cathy!”

The woman with perfectly done-up makeup stands above them in a mezzanine, looking at them through the door. However, as far as they can see, there are no stairs leading to that room, and the glass making up the door is bulletproof. They’re completely unable to touch her.

“Hey, you sadistic bitch, what is it this time?! Come down here, I’ll kill ya!” Zack snarls as the woman looks down at them.

“Oh, my, Zack, how could you speak like that to such a beautiful woman as I? Well, that part of you makes me shiver, too.” Cathy giggles.

“What do we have to do now?” Ray asks as she looks up at her.

“That’s right. Rachel Gardner, what do you think those syringes are for?” Despite being utterly bored by how calmly Ray asks her this, the woman’s tone never once changes.

“…For injecting medication into one’s body?” The moment she replies, a piercing, loud beeping tone resonates through the room.

“Correct, Rachel! Now then, all you have to do is inject yourself with the syringes, and the doors will open! Easy, right?”

“What’s inside the syringes…?” Ray stares at the injections.

“I’ll tell you, Rachel. One has some vitamins, and the other has a dangerous drug. The bad one is quiiiite strong – you’ll have a nightmare, suffer…you might not even wake up.” Cathy presses a finger to her red lips, speaking maliciously as she winks at Zack.

“Haah?! Which one is which?!”

“I won’t tell you, and I forgot anyway. In any case, either one of them could be a ‘win’, and either one of them could be a ‘lose’. If you’re lucky, you get the vitamin. If you’re not, you get the drug. It was supposed to be a test of luck, you know? But, since there are two of you…”

She laughs fearlessly.

“You knew this would happen…” Ray mutters quietly to herself, seeing the woman’s expression.

“Oh, what an unpleasant child. You’re smart, but that’s all. I’ve been watching you, and…you really are just like Zack says. So very boring.”

Cathy looks down upon the girl as an inferior being.

(…Boring…)

It’s different. It’s different when she says it. When Cathy says she’s boring – it makes Ray feel humiliated and uncomfortable.

“Now, then, let’s put an end to this boring conversation. You’re more or less came here together, so I’ll give you a special rule.”

“A special rule…?”

“Yes. You can…exchange the syringes. And…I don’t mind if one of you injects them both. However, make sure not to leave even a single drop of fluid. Dishonesty leads to endless punishment here! And you will never be able to get out.”

A roaring, mocking drumroll blares through the speakers.

“And now, my sinners, I shall pray for your good fortune!” Cathy twirls around along with the drumroll like some sort of musical performer. Then, with a peculiar laugh, she disappears through the door. In the room, only Ray, Zack, and the syringes remain.

“Zack…” Unconsciously, she calls that name as if asking for help.

“Hey, bring the syringe over here. Just do it.” Zack’s voice is irritated as he orders her.

“Okay…” She quickly takes the syringe from the table.

“D’ya know which one of these is the bad one?” he asks as he stares at the two syringes. One has orange liquid, the other contains yellow-green.

“…No.” She shakes her head. She can see the colours, but it tells her nothing of the actual contents.

“Guess not. I can’t, either. But I’m not plannin’ on dyin’ here. I’m not lettin’ that bitch kill me.” His expression is grim.

“…So, should I take both of them?” Ray thinks a bit before giving him her proposal.

“Hah?! Will ya be able t’ wake up?!” Zack’s voice unintentionally grows rougher.

“…No. So does that mean you’ll take them?” she asks without hesitation.

“Ah?! Of course I don’t want to!”

(What is she even thinking…?!)

He can’t follow her trail of thought at all.

“If you don’t want to do it, I will. Though I don’t know what will happen.” Ray’s voice is calm as she speaks. Zack merely looks perplexed. But from Zack’s perspective, she’s not thinking about the consequences of her actions at all. Her statements are selfish.

“So what happens if ya die?”

“What happens?”

“I’m askin’ ya what happens if I die? What happens if you die?!” The anger simmering within him threatens to burst out.

“…Our oath won’t happen… But, that’s…”

Ring.

At that moment, Ray hears – the chime of a bell.

“I don’t know. …I’m sorry, I don’t know.” Her head feels swamped in confusion.

“…Ah, that’s right. Ya want t’ die. I asked ya somethin’ stupid.” Zack’s voice is bitter and mocking.

“…Stupid…” Ray quietly repeats the word.

“It pisses me off, but that bitch is right. We’re just tools to each other. Well…I dunno what it means t’ swear t’ God, but you’ll prolly be satisfied if ya get t’ die either way.”

As he stares at Ray, whose expression hasn’t changed even slightly, he asks her something he’s been wondering about, somewhere in his heart, the entire time.

“Hey, can ya even make a good face if ya think about how much ya wanna die?”

“…” She can’t simply nod her head in response to that question.

She doesn’t know…she doesn’t know. She may have never been able to smile from the very bottom of her heart – ever since she was born.

“…How fuckin’ boring…being some doll’s tool…”

Sighing slightly, the man mutters to himself. Ray has fallen into utter silence.

“But right now, I don’t plan on doin’ what that bitch wants. I have t’ get outta this place. So, I’ll let ya use me.”

His tone become slightly desperate as he reaches through the bars and snatches the syringe from Ray’s hand.

“Wait, that’s mine…” Her eyes widen.

“Shut up. It looks dangerous, but it ain’t poison, right? If I die, that just means ya get t’ die too. So it’s better if I do it.” He smiles fearlessly. It may have been a wise decision in this situation. But Ray can only see it as Zack acting rashly after losing his composure.  And yet, she can’t stop him.

“…Wait.” Though she knows this, she reaches her hand through the bars.

“I’m not gonna wait.”

Zack glances at her. His expression – as if abandoning something, or perhaps having been abandoned – looks as if it hides all the sorrow he has ever experienced in his life until now.

He rolls up his sleeve and stabs both the syringes into his skin. The liquids seep into his body. Before long, the syringes are completely empty, and the next door opens.

“It’s open. Let’s go.” He walks forward calmly. It appears the drugs haven’t taken effect yet.

“Okay…”

Ray stares at his back as if deep in prayer.

▲▽

A hallway stretches out beyond the door. Zack walks at a quick pace, as if to pull Ray along. However, perhaps because of the drugs, the hallway seems to continue forever. He can’t see the end.

(…Shit. Everything’s spinning.)

My head feels like it’s gonna burst open.

He’s also attacked by a terrible vertigo that makes him unable to stand. He can’t help but crouch down on the ground.

(Ugh, what is this…)

White noise streaks his vision, along with an awful sound, like the rain from that night.

And, as if in continuation of that dream, he clearly sees what else had transpired.

▲▽

…This is what happened that day. When I killed the couple at the institution, when I buried the dead kid’s body in the garden. I think he was three years younger than me, but I don’t remember very well.

The first hole I dug, I uncovered what looked like a baby. It had been buried a few weeks ago. It was in my way, so I went to dig a new hole. I don’t know how many kids I buried like this.

And that day, it was raining. It rained all night, a rain so strong it would have been meaningless to even have an umbrella.

Because of that, the muddy dirt was easy to uncover. But the corpse crumbled easily, and it took some time to bury properly. I always did things like this late at night.

There was not even a speck of light. The ground in front of me was pitch-black. And because of the harsh rain, I was soaking wet and covered in mud that day.

I hated the feeling of my bandages being wet. It was disgusting. But I had no spare ones to change to. So my bandages always reeked.

Come to think of it, I hadn’t taken a bath in a long time. I can’t even remember the last time I did. I didn’t care much, but I did think it would be nice to take a bath after burying corpses. I hated the rotten smell on my hands after I touched them. I felt like my hands, and the rest of my body, might rot away too.

(Eugh…)

Nearly overcome by nausea, covered in mud, I returned to the institution.

It was strangely quiet. Peering into the bedroom from the living room, I saw that the couple were already sleep. I felt just a little bit disappointed. After burying bodies, the woman always secretly hid leftovers of food away. She disliked burying bodies so much that she would make sure a monster like me was kept alive. What a selfish bitch.

(I’m hungry…)

I held a hand over my stomach as I searched the room for something to eat – like a fallen bag of chips or something. That day, there wasn’t any. The living room wasn’t especially clean. Probably because no one took the trouble of doing it. Clothes, magazines, and trash were scattered everywhere. They were all the couple’s belongings.

On the shelves were various toys for children, all brand-new, as if put there for decorations. They didn’t appear to be used. And there was no need for toys in a place like that.

After all, there were no more children there. I was – the last – person. But those people were incorrigible. They would likely take more children for money, as well. And, they would be given nothing, die of starvation, and end up getting buried by me.

I was the only one who didn’t die. The couple called me a “monster”. I was called that likely not only because of my creepy appearance, but also because I just didn’t die. Though there were times I stole bags of candy or chips, one time, in intervals of about three weeks, I got leftovers. It took about that long for the new kids to die, too. I guess the couple probably didn’t understand why I didn’t drop dead. Even I didn’t. But it’s annoying to think about that.

(Haah?)

As I emitted a sigh that mixed with the sound of rain outside, I suddenly noticed a faint gleam of something.

(What’s that?)

It was a light from the television in the living room. It was on. Not thinking of anything in particular, I sat down in front of the TV, as if drawn in by the light. It was only on when the couple were up. And most of the time, while they were up, I was crouched down on the floor upstairs, in the storage room. I had heard the TV sometimes, but never seen what was on it.

(The television, huh…)

I became curious about this thing I had never seen before.

But because it was late at night, there was nothing on it. Not really knowing anything about how it worked, I tried pressing one of the buttons. Then, something happened.

It was probably – a bit of an old movie. It was the first time I’d ever seen one.

On the TV, there was a couple – a man and a woman – laughing happily. I had no idea what was supposed to be so funny.

(It’s kind of boring…)

I thought of turning it off. I hated people who looked happy. But at that moment, a grotesque-looking man – his skin slowly peeling off his entire body – appeared before the couple. He looked like a monster. And then, the ugly man turned toward the woman’s boyfriend. Brandishing a hatchet, he stabbed him over and over and over – without an ounce of hesitation. And killed him. Dark reddish blood scattered across the screen. It looked as if it would splatter out onto the ground in front of me.

The woman stared at the ugly man and called him a monster. Her expression was full of despair – as if the happiness she had experienced moments before had been nothing but a lie.

The ugly man mercilessly stabbed the woman in the head. The screen split between the pale face of the dead man, and the face of the ugly man, whose mouth was so wide with laughter it seemed like his face might tear into two. It was an exhilarating scene, one that enthralled me.

Thump, thump.

Thump thump.

Thump thump thump.

I don’t know if my heart had been moving until that moment. But then – then it felt like it wouldn’t ever stop its desperate thrumming.

(…Aah…that’s right…)

And that’s when I finally realised –

…This is what I should do.

(It’s easy…)

I stood up from the floor and wandered into the kitchen. It was swarming with wriggling black insects. I picked up the largest knife I could find, and turned toward the bedroom. The couple’s snoring was absurdly loud.

I didn’t falter for even a moment as I thrust the blade into the man’s neck. When I buried the bodies, their necks always looked so fragile, so I figured that this must be where I would find a human’s weak point. And I stabbed him, because on the movie, the man had died first, too. He let out a groan, and his gaze latched on to me – but he died in less than a minute.

(…Huh.)

As I stared at the man’s dead body, who I now felt no hatred for, or nothing at all, I realised: people die so easily. It’s easy…to kill.

(Why was I holding myself back for so long…?)

“Kyaaah!”

The woman realised something was wrong, and threw herself off the bed, letting out a scream of terror. She attempted to run, but perhaps her legs gave way, and she ended up simply dragging herself backwards along the floor.

“…”

Staring at that comical sight, I lifted my weapon.

The woman stared at me with eyes full of fear – an expression she had never shown me before – as she screamed “monster, you monster!” at me over and over again.

(Monster, huh…)

Honestly, I didn’t like being called that. I hated the scars beneath the bandages – the burn scars that would never fade. There was no way I could possibly like them. But it wasn’t because they made me remember anything. It was simply because I didn’t look human. Because I didn’t like looking like a monster.

But, for some reason, I was a little happy that night, as the woman screeched at me, calling me that name. My chest swelled. No matter what she said, I wouldn’t have to listen to her. Because I would kill her. The only thing that remained was despair.

(It’s okay to be a monster.)

I smiled.

Aah, I’m just like the man in that story. No…that’s wrong. I am him.

I don’t know how much time passed. But the next time I realised what was happening, the woman was dead.

And I was the only one left in the institution. The only thing ringing in my ears was the sound of the hard rain, as if to drive everything else away.

▲▽

His head throbs, as if someone had hit him. He feels sick.

(Aah…I feel like I’m gonna go crazy…)

…I want to kill.

I want to kill. I want to kill.

I want to kill I want to kill I want to kill I wanna kill.

I wanna kill I wanna kill I wanna kill I wanna kill IwannakillIwannakill.

“Please…kill me.”

Ray’s voice reverberates from within him.

As soon as I met her, she asked me to kill her. Thinking about it now, I guess I should have killed her back then. Or, maybe it would have been better to kill her then. I dunno what she’s thinkin’ with that blank face of hers, but I bet she would have been happy to be killed by me. ‘Cause right now, that’s all she thinks about. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t be working together with me like this.

I don’t know why she wants to die, and I don’t need to, either. After all, to her, I’m nothing more than a tool.

(But if I kill her now, would I be a liar…?)

The more time passes, the more the drugs sink into his system. He has always felt as if he’s been in an awful dream. The raging impulse to kill and the last frays of his sanity fight together.

(Zack looks strange…? The poison really is…)

“Zack, are you okay…?”

Having opened the door, Ray sees Zack crouched on the floor, unmoving, and rushes up to him.

(Stay away – )

Zack calls out in his own mind.

But the moment he perceives the form of the girl who rushes up to him, he becomes entirely enveloped in urges he can’t contain. He’s unable to think of anything asides from his desire to kill.

“…”

He quickly stands, and brandishes the scythe toward Ray. This scythe has brought countless people to despair. And, of course, it can slice through Ray’s dainty neck without a problem.

“…What’s wrong…?”

With the slightest bit of surprise upon her face, she asks him this quietly, seeming to sense something.

“Aah…I dunno if it’s ‘cause of that weird stuff or not…but I wanna kill so bad…that I feel like I’m gonna go crazy!” Zack shouts desperately as he stares into those blue eyes that look as if they see through everything.

(So, just go somewhere, far away – )

He wants to kill someone, anyone – Ray, in front of him – so badly he can hardly stand it.

But the promise he had made with her flickers in his mind.

“When we get outta here together…I’ll kill you.”

Since coming into this world, he had never had anything he especially liked or disliked. It was pointless to think about those things, anyway. But lies – he truly hates lies.

“…I see…I don’t mind.” Ray doesn’t flinch as she replies.

(So damn boring.)

Zack laughs, and hangs his head.

“…That so.”

(She’s boring, but,)

“Ah, that’s right, ya want me t’ kill ya, don’t ya?!”

(I can’t help it – )

He can’t control himself. The scythe shakes as his arms waver.

The sharp blade lightly touches the nape of her neck. It’s cold – almost like water dripping down her skin.

“…But, are you okay with this?” she asks him calmly as that icy sensation seeps into her bones.

“…Hah?!”

“You aren’t outside yet. And…my face is still boring, right?”

Just like her voice, her face is emotionless. She simply, intently gazes up into Zack’s flushed face.

(If ya get it, then)

“Hey…are ya tryin’ t’ threaten me now?!”

(do something – )

He feels absolutely disgusting. He wants to puke.

Even he knows how his hands tremble as they grip the scythe. Every second, he comes closer and closer to simply cutting her head from the rest of her body.

“No. You’re the one who made the promise to God. So, the promise is yours as well. Right now, I’m not ordering anything of you, or asking you to do anything for me. I’m just asking you…Zack, are you okay with this?” Ray’s expression trembles as she feels Zack’s hands shake, the sensation passed through her by the blade of the scythe on her neck. He’s a bit surprised, seeing such an honest expression from her in this insane situation –

“…Are you stupid? …Of course I’m not okay with it.” His answer comes straight from his heart. “But, ya know…no matter how boring yer face is…it’s hard t’ hold myself back. ‘Cause if I could, I wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place…”

Aah…why am I trying to hold myself back so much…?

When I get the urge to kill, I kill. I wanna kill so bad I can hardly stand it, but something inside of me keeps calling out to me, saying I mustn’t kill her.

(‘Cause I can’t get out of here if I do…?)

“A dangerous, mutually selfish wish that only pushes responsibilities upon the other…you both seem to be gaining something from this, but, the two of you are nothing more than tools. Though…which one of you is the real tool, I wonder?”

So, is Ray just a tool to me, too…?

“Your promise is absurdly pointless.”

(Promise…)

Ah…that’s right…I never really made a promise with anyone before. Promises always seemed so irrelevant to me…because I always lived on my own.

(But, ‘cause I’m gonna kill Ray once I get out of here, it might really be a pointless promise after all…)

He turns his gaze away from Ray and takes in a short breath, as if to muster the last of his strength.

“…But, ya know, even I hate lies...” His voice trembles. “Ya get what I mean, right?”

For a moment, it seems like time simply stops flowing between them.

“…Yeah.”

As Zack blinks, Ray sees her own expressionless face reflected back to her, and sees herself nod.

“…Good girl…so…please…”

He gently draws her delicate body closer to him.

“…Don’t let me kill you just yet – ”

And, after whispering into her ear, he softly lets her go.

As if to confirm the promise they’ve made to one another, the two hold one another’s gazes for a moment.

Zack’s expression is more serious than any she’s ever seen on him before.

He hears the rain begin to fall once more. A harsh rain at the dead of night, a rain hard enough to wash everything away.

Between the slits of my bandages, I see that old movie. What had it been called again? Something like…ah, damn it. It was the only movie I’d ever seen. I should have at least remembered the title. But that movie really was the best. It was so exciting.

Thump thump.

Thump thump.

Just thinking about it has my heart thumpin’ in my chest – though I dunno if it normally does that or not.

I want to kill.

I wanna kill so bad, I can’t stand it.

I can’t think about anything else anymore. I don’t want to think.

And, as if something had suddenly broken, Zack’s face becomes utterly blank.

▲▽

I have to run…!

The sight she had seen when she had first met Zack on B6 flickers frightfully clear through her mind.

That time…she had fixed the bird, like she normally would, and buried it.

It was a pity the bird had died, but I was happy.

After all, it could go home to my family. My ideal family…

But that had all been a fleeting dream. Nothing more. All she can remember is the past she doesn’t want to recall.

Ray looks away from Zack, and turns her back to him, as if it pains her to set her eyes upon him.

(…I don’t know anything about Zack yet.)

The words she had read on that profile – something like that is nothing more than something someone else had written. Nothing more.

“…I…hate lies.”

But that is one thing she knows. Her small hands curve into fists.

(I won’t make him a liar…)

Zack sways next to her – and she runs away from him as quickly as she possibly can.

Zack swore to God.

“I’m definitely gonna be the one to do it…!”

I’m sure Zack doesn’t desire to kill me like this. He doesn’t want to kill me while I’m so boring.

Hey, Zack. I can’t be alive. This is what I’ve thought ever since that night.

But, so that I can be killed by you, I want to be useful to you.

And, I promised. I promised to make a good face that would make you want to kill me.

So…for now, I can’t let Zack kill me…!

Zack chases her as the rain relentlessly pounds in his ears.

(I wanna kill, I wanna kill – )

He can’t hear anything anymore. He doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t know if this is reality, or a dream. He doesn’t know if he’s an adult, or a child. He can’t think about anything anymore. He just wants to kill. It doesn’t matter who.

In the midst of the white noise of his mind, for some reason, the faces of the children who had been buried at the institution flash by, one after another. Ghosts don’t exist in this world. That’s common sense. But, like an awfully clear movie, the faces of dead children flicker across his vision. They don’t look at him with hatred, and they don’t ask for help. They simply stare at him with dead eyes. And they tell him, “I didn’t want to go to a place like this.”

(I don’t care. That’s disgusting.)

He lurches after the girl with unsteady steps. Despite feeling terribly nauseous, he’s still tremendously fast.

(He’ll catch up to me…)

“Haah, haah…”

She can sense him approaching her.

Gasping for air, she rushes down the maze-like corridor.

(I can’t…breathe…)

She has surely never run for someone else like this before.

But she doesn’t have the leisure to think about something like that. She simply runs desperately. If she stops for even a second, she’ll be killed. To tell the truth, it doesn’t matter to her when she’s killed. She wants to be killed before Zack finds out everything.

(…?)

She’s suddenly aware that she can no longer sense Zack behind her. For an instant, she turns to look. It’s clear that his running speed has lessened.

(The poison…)

In her mind, she sees Zack, stabbing himself with the syringes.

(He even took my syringe…)

“If I die, that just means ya get t’ die too. So it’s better if I do it.”

That was…what Zack did to make sure they could get out together. That’s what Ray believes.

(Right now, all I can do is not let him kill me…)

That’s all.

She can’t see the end of the hall because of how gloomy it is. She doesn’t know where it goes – but she runs down it anyway, and forgets about everything else. She runs, further and further – and finally escapes that long hallway. Her vision explodes in white.

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Satsuriku no Tenshi Light Novel Volume 1 - B3 (Part 2)

Satsuriku no Tenshi - Until Death Do Them Part - B3 (Part 2)

Story by Makoto Sanada, written by Chiren Kina, illustrations by Negiyan, translations by me.

If you want to help out with translations, feel free to contact me!

Prologue | B7 | B6 | B5 | B4 (Part 1 / Part 2) | B3 (Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4) | Zack’s Memory || Index

And, as they enter the room, the door, of course, locks. Or perhaps it’s more accurate to say that it has been locked by someone.

“Ah…” Ray unintentionally lets out a small noise. There are no other doors in this room, as far as she can see.

(What should we do? We’re locked in…)

She’s enveloped by a strange uneasiness. The entrance has a sign that says “open/closed”, and there is what looks like a card reader near it.

(…Is there a card somewhere?)

She abruptly remembers how she had obtained a card from the computer on B7.

“It’s not really surprisin’ for the door t’ lock anymore,” Zack says, unbothered.

“Yeah…” Despite feeling anxious, Ray looks around the room. There are numerous wall-mounted televisions affixed high up, though there is no ladder to reach them. It almost makes the room look like some kind of electronics store. Peering closer, she sees some of the TVs have various scratches and marks, as if someone had tried to pull them down.

(I wonder what those are.)

In the very centre of the room is a human-shaped, black and red object.

(A body…)

It seems it’s been left there for a long time, because it’s already decaying.

(What’s that…?)

“The man who lies here…”

But the rest of the words are covered by the corpse, unreadable.

(…I wonder what’s written there…)

Absentmindedly thinking to herself, the girl proceeds further into the room. There’s a safe about as large as a refrigerator. Opening it, she finds a single, old-looking gas mask.

(A gas mask…)

She suddenly has a bad feeling. Or rather, she’s had a bad feeling ever since they came into this room.

“This room…kinda stinks.” Zack sighs, almost as if he senses Ray’s unease. Being locked up in all sorts of rooms has left him feeling rather disgusted.

(Ah?)

He feels as if he’s just stepped on something. Lifting his foot, he sees a remote control. It’s probably for the televisions.

…Come to think of it, how many years has it been since I last saw a TV?

Leaning down, he picks up the controller and automatically points it at the televisions lining the wall.  Then, he presses the on button. In that instant, the television screens flicker on, showing the form of the woman they had seen earlier.

Hello, how are you today? This video is addressed to my lovely sinners!

I’m going to explain the purpose of this room now. So if you don’t want to die, better listen up, all right?

The execution method of this room is rather luxurious, if I do say so myself.

It’s tightly sealed, and the air absolutely does not leak outside. And it’s going to be filled with something very wonderful!

And that wonderful thing is…a very special poison gas to give sinners like you a gentle, endless sleep! ♪

There is, of course, a way to escape. And I’m very kind, so I’ve specially prepared a nearly useless gas mask just for you! Try to find it, okay?

Escaped prisoners are quite fascinating sinners as well…I like them, too ♪

But if you don’t feel like being interesting, just die to the poison gas, okay…?

Oh, that’s right. It’s boring if you don’t die right away, so I’ve given you a time limit.

If you go over the limit, I’ll give you an even stronger poisonous gas as a present!

Well then, in just a few moments, the poison gas will start to come into the room. Have a wonderful time!

Beep, beep!

That recording had likely been prepared in advance. As soon as it ends, a shrill siren sounds out within the room. The televisions now display an hourglass. It’s easy for Ray to guess that the time left on the hourglass must be inversely proportional to the poison gas in the room.

“…Hey, what are we gonna do?” Zack asks, his countenance somewhat deferential. No matter how stupid he believes himself to be, even someone like him can grasp the danger of the situation they’re in right now.

“She said that there’s a way to get out. So we have to work hard to find it. For now, you should hurry and put the mask on…” Walking up to the safe, Ray pulls out the old gas mask and holds it out to Zack.

“What, I’m gonna put it on?” A proverbial question mark floats above his head. It seems obvious to him that Ray should be the one to put the mask on, since she is smaller than him.

“Yes. …If you die, that’ll be a problem. That’s why you should use it.” Her voice sounds unconcerned. She can sense the gas beginning to flow into the room. It’s an odd scent that feels like it might scramble her brain.

“And what happens when you die?” Zack asks coldly.

“…I don’t know.” Ray looks away. The manner in which she answers his question makes it sound as if she thinks this is not her problem.

“Bullshit! If you die, I won’t be able t’ get outta here! Think of something!” he snarls, voice roughening due to his anger at her irresponsible attitude.

Does she really want me to kill her?!

(Maybe she just wants to have a pleasant death…?)

Though he looks into her almost artificially blue eyes, he can’t feel any emotion from them. He doesn’t even know what she’s thinking in the first place. Just that she wants to die. But he doesn’t have time to think about this, nor does he need to. But wondering about why Ray wants to be killed by him sometimes makes him feel like his heart has grown clouded with some sort of fog.

(After all, I’ve never been needed by anyone.)

“…Then, we’ll switch when it hurts,” Ray suggests, after thinking for a bit.

“Ya know, you might not care if ya die, but that’ll be a problem to me if ya do. So say somethin’ before it starts hurtin’!” Zack snaps back. He almost sounds as if he’s reprimanding her. No matter what Ray thinks, if they can’t get out of here, nothing will come out of their wishes. He most certainly does not want to die in this building.

“I get it. I’ll tell you before it hurts. So quickly, put it on.”

She’s not afraid of dying. She’s more afraid of living. But, if possible, she wants Zack to kill her. She doesn’t know why she thinks this so strongly – they had just met recently, after all. Even if she thinks about it, she wouldn’t be able to come up with a theory explaining this.

But ever since she had started thinking she wanted Zack to kill her, that has become her wish.

And Zack had also sworn.

(To God…)

So, I want to be useful to him. I have to be useful.

“…So, how are we gonna get out?” Putting on the rather unreliable-looking mask, Zack asks this in a somewhat uneasy tone of voice. There’s no way he could ever think of a way to get out of a room like this. He has to rely on Ray.

“There must be a hint. We have to find it.” She keenly feels just how much the man depends upon her. Despite her expressionless face, she earnestly feels she must do her best.

“Well then, hurry up. We don’t got much time.”

“Okay.” With a small nod, she rushes over to the dead body.

(There’s something written under this…)

She’s been curious about those words ever since they got into this room. There might be some kind of hint. Filled with this expectation, she attempts to move the corpse.

(…It’s heavy.)

But it’s more difficult than she thought. With her strength, she only manages to move it very slightly. It practically seems to be affixed to the floor.

The man who lies here is a foolish…

At least she manages to confirm that there is indeed something else written beneath the body.

“Zack?”

“What?”

“I want you to move the body. There’s something written on the floor.”

“Hah? Ya can’t even move this? Damn, brats are annoying.”

Zack’s complaint is intermingled with a joke. Lifting the body up, he moves it to the side. Though he can’t use his head like Ray, manual labour of this sort is easy.

“Oh…the leg came off.”

But at that moment, the right leg simply falls off from the corpse.

(Fuckin’ gross…)

Ray feels somewhat uncomfortable. She feels like the colour of that leg is different from the rest of the body.

(Did it rot before turning into a corpse…?)

“So, what’s written there?”

The letters continue on from where the corpse had lain before. But Zack is unable to read it.

The man who lies here is a foolish, spineless murderer who tramples upon his own life with his own two feet. Though he suffers, aware of his unsightly sin, and knows that all he must do is abandon those feet, he cannot accomplish even this. In the end, he is nothing more than a foolish sinner, his legs only to be used for wandering hell for all eternity.

Ray reads the red letters to herself.

(What does this mean…?)

Abandon his feet… Does this have anything to do with the leg…?

Near the corpse is a large puddle of blood. As she stares at it for a little longer, she realises that beneath the blood is yet something else written.

(Is there more…?)

However, only parts of the words are readable.

“Zack, I want you to look for something I can use to wipe the floor with.” If she can read it, she might able to find another hint. That’s why Ray asks him to do this.

“I ain’t a wizard, ya know.” Zack’s eyebrows furrow. Perhaps because of his idiocy, he can’t keep up with what Ray is thinking at all. And of course, there doesn’t seem to be anything he can use for that nearby.

“I know.”

“Anyway, what are ya gonna wipe the floor for? Why?”

“I want to clear up the blood here. Because there’s something written there. There might be a dust cloth somewhere or something…”

“I don’t have anything like that. You don’t got a handkerchief or somethin’ in that bag of yours?”

“…I have…a handkerchief.” Ray’s gaze is gloomy as she casts a glance toward her purse.

“Then ya can use that, yeah?”

“…Yeah.”

(But…if I use this, then…)

For an instant, her vision sways terribly. A faint blue gleam shines within her eyes. And when she blinks, it’s gone.

“What’s wrong?” Zack peers into her face. He thought her expression had changed for a moment.

“Um…I think I might be hurting a bit…from the poison gas.” Looking up at Zack’s face, who has noticed her discomfort, she answers in just the same voice as usual.

“Hah?! I told ya t’ tell me before it hurts!” Zack scowls, immediately pulling the gas mask off and shoving it upon Ray’s face.

“But, I can’t know it hurts until it actually hurts,” Ray mumbles. The mask covers her entire face. But perhaps, rather than hurting…it feels like her head is about to float away, like her feet aren’t on solid ground. It’s a strange sensation.

“Damnit, yer so quiet, I dunno if yer dead or alive!”

“It’s okay, I’m alive.”

“I know that!”

“You said you don’t know…”

“Ugh…stop yammerin’. Just breathe!” Zack barks. It seems like she just has have a response to every little thing he says.

“Okay. But we have to clean that up, quick…I’m sure it’s a hint of some kind.”

“I get it. I’ll do it, just give me the cloth!” Zack snaps, his voice growing desperate toward the end. He’ll be troubled if Ray dies. He has no idea what sort of poison gas this is, but he’s still doing all right. That’s why what he needs to do is put his physical strength to work. That’s what he instinctively thinks.

“Okay.” Ray slips her hand into her pocket in order to take out the handkerchief. But as she does so, she suddenly feels the way she had that night. However, now is not the time to hesitate. Ray pulls the handkerchief out – unwrapping the thing that had been held in it all this time, from that day, and passes it to Zack.

“Ah…so all I gotta do is wipe the blood up with this?” Zack asks, hesitating slightly as he stares down at the cute, light blue cloth.

“Yeah. I’ll help you. I have a toothbrush too,” she mumbles as she searches in her pouch.

(…It kinda feels like she’s just puttin’ on a face.)

“Anyway, why…what’s the point in wearin’ that?” The gas mask is clearly too large for Ray’s face. There are large gaps on each side of her head.

“I don’t know…I feel like it’s already broken,” Ray says. In fact, it hurts a little more to breathe than before.

“Huh? Then just throw it away! It just causes too many problems. If it hurts, just breathe less.”

“…? But you just told me to concentrate on breathing.” For some reason, Ray tilts her head.

“Ah?! If ya don’t got the mask, all ya can do is try t’ stop breathin’!” Zack scowls slightly. It’s weird that Ray doesn’t have a grasp on this, despite being smarter than him.

“…Okay,” Ray mutters meaninglessly. She doesn’t quite understand why, but she feels rather odd because of their unusual situation. Her mouth curves downwards.

“Did ya get poisoned?” Zack tilts his head slightly. For some reason, she sort of looks like she’s having fun.

“I feel kind of weird?” She tilts her head in turn.

(Weird?)

He looks are her closely. She looks the same as usual, but she also feels different. The fact that she’s utterly expressionless hasn’t changed, however.

But it’s weird that something changed at all…

“…I dunno. Anyway, yer always weird.” He’s annoyed of thinking.

“Am I?” Despite her slightly astonished expression, Ray speaks as monotonously as usual as she looks up at Zack. Her eyes are utterly hollow.

(Is she high ‘cause of the drugs or somethin’?)

Is she okay…?

“Anyway, we don’t got much time. I’m gonna clean the floor.” They don’t have time for these silly conversations. He’s fine right now, but if more poison gas comes into the room, he might not last. Determined to escape from the room as quickly as possible, he quickly begins to wipe up the floor.

(Still, this is damn annoying. I’ve never even cleaned anything before…)

With a great sigh, he continues to vigorously wipe the mess up.

(…There really is something written there.)

Ray scrubs the parts she can see clean with the toothbrush in order to see them better.

After wiping the floor clean, it really does appear that the writing earlier has a continuation.

If you have understanding of what part of your flesh has committed a sin, slice it off. Then, weight it upon the scale, along with the weight of your sin. Make them even. But know that if that happens to be your very soul, your wish will not come to pass.

(Weigh them on the scale, and make them even.)

“Zack, I want you to put that leg onto the scale,” Ray says immediately.

“Hah?! Why do I have to touch that gross shit?!” Zack automatically snarls. He doesn’t really like touching corpses. He has never liked the smell of them, either.

“Okay then.” Ray’s listless words make it sound as if she’s abandoned him.

(…?!)

Zack’s eyes narrow. That reaction is different from what Ray would normally do. That’s what he feels.

(This gas really does have somethin’ weird in it.)

As Zack stares at her in amazement, Ray walks up to the corpse and picks up the severed leg.

(…It’s heavy.)

In fact, it’s far heavier than she had expected. Perhaps because of the gas, she’s completely unable to lift it at all.

“Ugh, move! All I gotta do is put it on the scale, right?!” Zack snaps. He’s unable to bear looking at her like that. Pulling the limb out of her hands, he approaches the scale that she points out. Then he sets it upon it with a low thump. It doesn’t take him very long. And Ray becomes annoyed, perceiving herself as being useless.

(Make them even…)

Ray picks up the plates on the other side of the scale, and places them on the other side until the weights begin to match. The moment they align perfectly – there’s a sound of something unlocking in the loft above.

“Something opened?”

“Probably.”

The two of them look up toward the loft. It’s about three metres high up. And there isn’t a ladder they can climb. Even Zack can’t see what the loft looks like.

“Go check if there’s somethin’ up there.”

“How?”

“…Yeah…c’mere.” After thinking a moment, a strange glint flashes through the man’s eyes. Zack guides Ray underneath the loft. And, without any warning whatsoever, he firmly grasps Ray around the hips with his bony hands –

“Then, let’s go.”

“Eh?”

Then, easily lifts her up like a tool of some sort, and tosses her small form up into the loft.

(…?!)

Ray has absolutely no idea what just occurred. She’d just been floating in space for a second, and now she finds herself in the loft.

“Hey! Stop spacin’ out, go look for somethin’! Ya want t’ be useful, right?!” Zack urges her on in a somewhat annoyed tone of voice. She’s too still, trying to process what had just happened.

“Okay.”

That’s right… I’m going to be useful to Zack.

(I think the noise…came from further within…)

Likely because it hadn’t been cleaned in a while, the loft is full of dust. The gap to the ceiling is only about fifteen centimetres. Despite feeling a little apprehensive, Ray crawls further inside. Upon doing so, she finds a small box.

(It’s open…I wonder if the sound was this box opening…)

Inside is a small mechanism. It says “dost thou believe in God?”. Below that question is a “yes” button and a “no” button.

(…God.)

There is no indication of whose God the question refers to. But because of the gas, Ray has no strength to think clearly. She simply, immediately thinks of her own God, and presses the “yes” button. The machine emits a beep, and a card slides out of it. Ray thinks it must be for the card reader at the entrance.

(We’ll be able to get out with this.)

“Zack, I found a card.” Ray peers out from the loft to look down at him.

“Oh, good job! We can get outta this damn room.” He looks up at her proudly. However, he then realises that she doesn’t appear to be coming down.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Um…I can’t get down…” With an expression just a little bit girlishly frightened, she looks down at the floor.

“Hah?! Just jump down!”

“…I think I’ll break some bones if I do that. And…I’m a bit scared.” Despite her blank face, she speaks her true feelings. She’s not very fond of tall places.

“What the hell…ya really are troublesome.” Zack sighs. “Haah…c’mon, give me yer hand.”

“…Hand?” Ray tilts her head.

“Ya can’t get down, right?!”

“I can’t.”

“So do it!” Zack snaps, annoyed at how slow she is to understand. He holds out one of his own bandaged hands.

“Okay.” Putting the card into her pocket, Ray slowly reaches out her hand toward Zack. Grasping onto her, Zack pulls her down and holds her up for only a moment, before unceremoniously placing her on the ground.

“Thank you,” Ray whispers, somewhat unsteady on her feet.

“It’s nothin’. So, where’s the card?” Zack averts his gaze from her with a huff.

“I think that if we put this into that card reader, we’ll be able to get out.” Ray pulls the card out of her pocket and shows it to him.

“Then go on’n’do it.”

“Right.”

(…Huh?)

However, the moment she makes to walk toward the door, she’s assailed by a terrible vertigo that makes her unable to stand. She slowly sinks to the floor.

The hourglass on the televisions is about two-thirds down. Which means that the air in the room is two-thirds poisonous gas.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Zack asks, kneeling down to try to meet her gaze.

She stares up into his bandaged face with hollow eyes.

“…Damnit, ya got poisoned.”

With a tch, Zack pulls the card out of her hand and turns to the device near the door.

“I just gotta put the card in, right?”

“…Yeah.” Ray gives a small nod. Running up to the card reader, Zack attempts to do just that. But it doesn’t seem to want to go into the slot very easily.

“Aah?! Why won’t it go in?!” Unbelievably irritated, he begins to shove the card in forcibly. And then – there’s an ominous crack, as the card breaks right in half.

“Ah…?” Not quite understanding the situation yet, Zack emits a foolish sound.

“Ah…” And Ray’s mouth hangs upon wordlessly as she witnesses something she didn’t even expect.

((Ahahahah!))

In that moment, the room echoes with the laugh of that woman. The televisions once again begin to display her. It would appear that this isn’t a recording this time.

((I can’t believe it! I didn’t expect you to give yourself a game over! I’ll let you know a little something, Zack. You were putting the card in the wrong way. It’s so funny, I just can’t stop laughing! I haven’t gotten enough of punishing you yet, but…sinners have to follow the rules. After all, this was your own doing. But since you’re still looking all right, Zack…I’ll give you both a present of some even stronger gas. It’s my special gift, all right? It’s veeeery expensive. You’re such lucky sinners! Now then, make sure to suffer for me!))

The woman disconnects the feed once again.

(…I really did want to have more fun with you, Zack, but I can’t do anything about you getting a game over.)

And then, she presses a button upon her machine panel, and the gas begins to flow into the room.

▲▽

A sound almost like rain reaches their ears.

Instead of an hourglass, the television now displays a sandstorm so fierce it’s almost painful to look at.

“Arrgh! We came all this way, just open the fuckin’ door!” Zack snarls, kicking the card reader. Hearing that grating voice make fun of him just makes him even angrier. He’s additionally enraged at his own worthlessness.

(Ahh, shit…! I’m gonna die!)

He swallows harshly. He’s in an undeniably terrible predicament.

“Zack.” Ray’s voice is somewhat rough as she slowly stands up and calls his name.

“What?” Despite his rage, he turns to look at her.

“Our promise won’t be fulfilled unless we get out of here, right…?” She looks up at him with a strange expression.

“Hah?! What are ya talkin’ about at a time like this?!”

“Answer me,” Ray says firmly, staring at him with hollow eyes.

“Yeah, that’s right. The bear minimum condition is that I get outta here alive!” Zack asserts strongly, as if answering to that resolve.

“…Okay. I’ll try. But I don’t know if this will help. Is that okay?” Ray asks, her gaze far more earnest than ever before.

However, that isn’t because she’s afraid to die, or because she wants to stay alive. She simply wants to get out of here and be killed by Zack. She feels certain that, so long as Zack kills her, she will be able to go to heaven.

“Well…we might die anyway. Doesn’t matter what it is, just do it!” Zack snaps. As he looks into Ray’s eyes, it seems like a bit of light has returned to them. It’s not in his nature to wait for death to come to him. If he’s going to die, doing something is better than doing nothing at all.

“Okay. I’ll try.” Ray nods, mustering the rest of her strength.

(This gas might be flammable…if I’m able to make it catch fire, it might cause an explosion.)

Recalling a chemistry book she had read several years ago, Ray takes the batteries out of the remote controller, wraps the wire from the safe around them, and takes something that might be able to ignite – the handkerchief used to wipe the floor – and fixes it in place with the wire. Then she gently places it near the wall.

“The hell is that?” Zack has a bad feeling as he looks down at the strange object.

“…If this catches fire, it might explode,” Ray says calmly as she tilts her head to the side.

“What the fuck?! We’ll die!” Zack snaps, his eyes looking odd for a moment.

(What’s the point in speedin’ up our deaths…?!)

Ah…gettin’ killed by that crazy bitch is disgusting.

However, Ray has no time to feel dejected. She begins to calmly give directions to Zack, who hangs his head.

“So let’s quickly go somewhere we can hide.”

“Hah? Where?”

“Over there…” Ray casts a look toward the safe. It’s approximately as large as a refrigerator.

“Are we even gonna fit in there?!” Zack’s eyebrows furrow as he stares at the safe. It looks cramped. It’s large enough to just barely hold Zack’s thin form and Ray’s small body.

“Yeah.” Ray goes into the safe and urges the man inside.

“If you don’t come quickly, it’ll explode.”

“…Ugh, all right!” Feeling strangely embarrassed for some reason, Zack squeezes himself into the safe as well and shuts the door.

“Are we really gonna be okay in here?”

“Probably. It looks pretty durable.”

“I won’t forgive ya if we won’t be okay!”

The two whisper quietly in the narrow, dark safe.

“Okay. But, Zack, I want you to move a bit. I’m crushed.”

“Hah?! I can’t do anythin’ about that, this place is too small!” Zack’s voice grows louder at Ray’s unreasonable request.

“…I’m going to go deaf.”

“You brat…you’ve just been complainin’ on’n’on. D’ya really want me t’ kill ya?!”

“I do. Because you’re the only one who can kill me.”

“Then talk t’ me with that kinda attitude!”

“What do you mean…?”

“Figure it out yerself!”

Zack and Ray embark on a seemingly endless conversation within the safe, unseen by any cameras.

In that moment, they hear a terribly loud sound, and the safe begins to shake wildly. The object Ray had made had exploded due to the gas. A faint hot air blows into the safe through the crevices of the door. But the only one who feels it is Zack. He stands with his back to the door, almost as if shielding Ray.

“It’s damn hot…”

For an instant, he’s reminded of his burn scars. His fingers reflexively begin to tremble. But the sensation back then had been far more terrible. So, this is nothing to him. This is what Zack tells himself.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah…this is nothin’. So, did it explode yet?” Trembling slightly, Zack attempts to play dumb, and peers through the gaps in the door.

“It seems like it.”

Once the room outside grows completely quiet, the two of them slowly and quietly creep out of the safe.

“…Seriously.”

Zack is at a loss of words for the sight that spreads out before him. The room has been charred entirely black.

“It looks like we can get out,” Ray says. In the place the explosion had occurred is a hole large enough for a person to fit through.

“Yeah, we can finally get out!”

“Yeah…”

“What’s wrong?”

“…Um, was I useful?” Ray asks with upturned eyes.

“Huh? Ya blew the place t’ bits. Ya did good!”

“…I see. That’s good.” Ray’s voice is relieved as she hears how satisfied the man sounds. She feels her consciousness drifting way.

(I was useful…)

Perhaps Ray considers this a mission of sorts. This is the first time she has ever felt this way – this strange feeling of completion. She feels like her heart has been satisfied. However, her body feels otherwise – due to the poison gas she inhaled, she feels wobbly and dizzy.

“Hey, don’t die here, okay?” Zack says, seeing her face lose its vitality.

“…I’m okay.” Ray’s voice is feeble.

“Then let’s go. I can’t have ya dyin’, but we gotta move forward, too.”

“Okay.”

And so, the two of them pass through the large hole, and finally advance down the hallway.

▲▽

“I bet she never thought this’d happen!” Zack gives a hearty laugh as he recalls the burnt remains of that room.

“Yeah…” Ray nods, staring at Zack with eyes that might close at any second.

I wonder why…everything’s spinning…

(I was okay until just now…)

Ray stares at the ground. She can’t keep her eyes open. All her energy has left her; just keeping herself standing sends wave of fatigue through her body.

(I’m kind of sleepy…)

“Hey, can ya walk?” Zack stares at her with a dubious expression.

“Yes…I’ll try,” Ray replies, looking back at him with vacant eyes. But it’s not really a response. They’re merely canned words.

“…’Kay.”

Zack turns to walk down the dark hallway. Ray totters unsteadily behind like, almost as if sleepwalking.

She absolutely intends to walk on her own. But it’s as if she’s in that dream; it’s difficult to go forward. Her vision grows dim and hazy, and she can’t tell if she’s sleeping or awake.

(Damnit…she’s so slow…)

“Argh! Shit! How are we supposed t’ keep goin’ at this pace?!” Pulled back by Ray’s slowness, Zack whirls around and snaps at her.

“You go…by yourself?” she suggests blankly. She can’t think.

“I would if I could. But I wouldn’t be able t’ by myself.” He sighs. And – for some reason, he doesn’t like the idea of leaving her on her own on this dangerous floor.

(There’s no tellin’ when that psycho bitch’ll come out.)

“It’s okay…I can walk…” Ray sounds as if she’s trying to convince herself.

“I can’t believe ya when ya got that kinda face. Yer not okay.” He sighs lightly. There’s no way they can go further like this.

“…I’ll try,” she mumbles again. Her voice sounds like it might fade any second.

“What’s with that ‘I’ll try’ crap? Even if you try, you’ll die when yer gonna die. That might be what you want, but if that happens, my wish’ll come t’ nothin’!”

(…Wish…)

The words mysteriously resonate within her.

“That’s true…so, I’ll try even harder,” Ray says, one foot yet in a dream.

“Yer smart, but ya say the same thing over’n’over, just like a doll…” He sounds exasperated.

(…Just like a doll.)

“…What should I do?” she asks him, stock still.

“Shut up. If yer a human, think for yerself,” he answers briskly.

(If I’m human…)

I am…alive. So I’m not a doll. I’m not a doll, that’s why, I’m so tired right now…

“I think that if we stop for a bit, I’ll be okay.”

Reacting to his cold words, she finally puts the feelings in her heart into words.

“Haah. Damnit, ya should’ve said that in the first place.”

“…Yeah.”

Caught as she is between a dream and reality, Zack seems like a completely different person to her right now. Though his words are harsh, he doesn’t try to deny her. And he doesn’t expect or demand anything of her, like Doctor Danny did. Ray feels as if she can remain as herself around Zack. It’s the first time she has ever felt like this in her life.

(I wonder why Zack listens to me…)

No one in that house ever listened to what I had to say.

Her empty eyes don’t tell him a single thing about what she might be thinking about. Sighing lightly, Zack grasps her thin wrist and pulls her along. Walking quickly down the hallway, he pulls her into an alcove where the cameras can’t see them, and sits cross-legged on the floor.

“The cameras don’t see us here. I’ll wait. So do it quick.”

“…Okay.” Giving a small nod, she plops down to kneel next to him. The moment she closes her eyes, she drifts off to a peaceful sleep. It’s a sleep so deep that for a moment, Zack isn’t sure if she’s still alive.

“Hey, Ray. Make sure t’ rest so ya can walk around…yer already sleepin’!” Somewhat astonished she can fall asleep so quickly, the man blinks his long eyelashes. He stares at the girl’s lovely form. Her beautiful face looks like an angel’s as she sleeps.

(She’s so pale, she looks even more like a doll…)

I don’t like cuttin’ up dolls…

Will she be able to smile when they get out of this building…?

(Her eyes are dead, and all she says is okay and I’ll try, she’s so boring…)

“Haah…well, can’t think about dumb pointless stuff forever…guess I’ll rest a bit, too.” With a large yawn, Zack closes his eyes.

Abruptly, he feels Ray leaning against him. But it’s too much of a bother to push her off, so he simply shuts his eyes again.

Though he thinks of himself as fine, it’s still a fact that he also inhaled the poisonous gas. So he quickly falls asleep.

▲▽

And, he has a dream.

He hasn’t had a dream in years. Or if he had, they were only sad dreams full of darkness.

The dream unfolding before his eyes now is a nightmare, not even worth calling a sad dream.

But once a dream starts, it doesn’t simply end. After all, when you’re dreaming, you don’t realise it.

And so, the dream pushes itself upon him.

When Zack was a young boy, he was in an orphanage. Just remembering that appalling institution makes him nauseous. In front of Zack’s eyes, the owners of that institution, a married couple, sit upon a couch in the living room. Their conversation isn’t normal in the slightest, yet they talk nonchalantly.

It’s like a vivid movie…unfolding before his very eyes. A re-enactment of old memories he had forgotten.

“Listen, dear. The child who came in this month…when I peeked into his room because of the stench, I saw he had already become useless.”

“Oh, I see.”

“So…what do you want to do?”

“Just bury him in the garden.”

“Again? Is that okay?”

“No one’s going to look for the children here – especially since they were just thrown away here for some money.”

“…But I don’t want to. I don’t like touching decaying things.”

“How selfish…Oh, come to think about it. Is that one still alive?”

“That one?”

“You know, that one. That brat with the burns, the one that looks like a monster.”

“Oh, that? …It is. Even though I haven’t given it anything to eat…it probably digs through the trash for leftovers. So disgusting.”

“So just make it bury him. It’s fine for a brat to take care of another brat.”

“…That’s true.”

“To tell you the truth, I had it do this for me, too. Just dug like I told it to.”

“Oh? Really?”

“Perfect, right? And by picking up the leftovers, it’s just making the place stink less. We don’t have much other help, and even a monster can be useful if you let it live. Just like a tool. A fitting post for a monster.”

“You’re right about that.”

“Well then, the problem’s settled. I’m gonna watch a movie now. Don’t bother me.”

“…Oh, no, it’s that slasher horror again, isn’t it?”

“I like that movie. Get a nice kick outta those frivolous idiots getting killed.”

“What bad taste. I don’t like that movie. The murderer doesn’t even die.”

“It’s fine. Just don’t bother me. Go tell it to take care of the dead body.”

(…Monster…)

That’s right. I’m a monster. I know this. But I wasn’t born to be your tool…

(Aah…I want to kill…I’ll kill them…)

In that dream enveloped in darkness, Zack is still a boy, yet in the middle of growing. In his small hand, he grips a large kitchen knife.

“Zack…”

I hear a voice.

Ah…?

Whose…voice is this…?

Oh…that’s right.

It’s Ray…

Ray’s calling.

My name…

“…Zack.”

The moment he realises that her voice is real, that nightmare that won’t fade from his memories slowly dims.

▲▽

“…Zack.”

Ray had woken up just a bit before him. Seeing that his sleeping face is warped as if somehow in pain, she gently calls his name.

“Ngh…”

Responding to her voice, Zack slowly opens his eyes.

“…Did you wake up?”

“…Yeah.” His voice is still slightly sleepy. He feels like his brain has been eaten by worms. He feels sick.

That’s right…he’d had an awful dream.

(Why did I have t’ see that…?)

He’d forgotten it for so long – he hadn’t had to remember.

“Um…Zack, you’re a bit heavy.” Ray casts Zack a sideways glance. He hasn’t completely woken up yet.

“Ah?”

On second thought, Ray’s face is strangely close.

(…?!)

At some point when he had been asleep, he had started to completely lean upon her shoulder.

“You were clingin’ on to me first!” he snaps, pulling away.

“…Was I?” Ray’s head tilts to the side disinterestedly. Having been deep asleep, she can’t remember such a thing.

“That’s right! Definitely!”

“…I see.”

“Anyway, can we go now?” he asks, standing up.

“Yes. I feel mostly refreshed.” Her voice is clear, completely devoid of sleepiness.

“Then let’s go. We can’t take so much time.”

“Okay.”

▲▽

Zack proceeds quickly down the dark hallway without looking back.

(Shit…)

He can’t help how angry he is because of that disgusting dream. But, even if it frustrates him, he can’t do anything about the past. And that couple is already dead. After all, he killed them both himself that night –

Further down the hall is the nauseating, grotesque smell of dead bodies. That’s undoubtedly what that scent is. He’s smelt it many times, so there’s no way he could be mistaken. There is also a creepy groaning sound resonating down the hall, almost like a tremor through the walls.

(What is that…)

Straining her ears to listen to the sounds, Ray quickens her pace to catch up to Zack.

Uwaaaah…

As they go forward, the groans become even louder.

(Zack hasn’t said even a single word for a while…he really is angry that I slept…)

Somewhat anxious, Ray’s eyebrows furrow slightly.

“Zack…”

The moment she calls out, as if to stop Zack from leaving her, sirens blare through the speakers. It’s another broadcast from that woman.

((Hello! How are you two doing? In any case, you two are quite late. Just what were you doing?))

The woman’s voice is full of malice. She has an approximate understanding of where they had been resting despite the cameras not showing them to her.

“We weren’t doin’ anything,” Zack answers harshly, ever annoyed by her ever-present good mood.

((Hmph. Still, I’m surprised you managed to escape! I’ll give you a bit of praise. Heheh. I’m quite annoyed, but you deserve it!))

(I can have even more fun now.)

The woman claps her hands in applause.

((Well then, since you’ve come all this way, I thought I’d ask one more time. How about spending the rest of your lives in a jail cell?))

The woman smiles coquettishly as she sees just how angry Zack looks.

Further down the hall are the cells exclusively for her pets. None of them will ever be able to get out. The groans Zack and Ray had heard were from the sinners there, forever waiting for death.

“I already told ya I ain’t gettin’ in! Damn stubborn. And I already know it ain’t anything good, so quit askin’ me!”

((Oh my, how cold. Come now, Zack. Won’t you entertain me and become my tool?))

“Aah? Tool?” Zack scowls. That word is terribly bad for his temper.

“Even a monster can be useful if you let it live. Just like a tool. A fitting post for a monster.”

That nightmare comes to mind, whether he wants it to or not.

((Yes, that’s right. A tool. But don’t misunderstand me. When I’m talking about tools, I also mean the both of you.))

The woman’s tone and expression are quite similar to that old woman. Zack’s head hurts, like he’s just been hit in the head.

((After all, watching you two is so amusing! You made quite a strange promise, right? A dangerous, mutually selfish wish that only pushes responsibilities upon the other…you both seem to be gaining something from this, but, the two of you are nothing more than tools. Though…which one of you is the real tool, I wonder?))

The woman giggles.

(Why don’t they realise that their promise is so pointless…?)

“Ah? What d’ya mean?” It’s not that he doesn’t know the words she’s used. However, he was unable to understand.

((Oh my, you don’t know? That’s fine. You’ll understand soon. And I do like stupid children…they’re quite cute. Right, Zack? Eheheh. Now then, enjoy your next punishment ♪))

The woman cuts off the transmission.

…A tool, huh.

(…Am I really nothing more than someone’s tool?)

“Ah, I feel sick.” Zack scratches at his head irritably, looking down.

“…Zack?” Ray looks up at his face. As usual, he has no idea what she’s thinking. And he can’t see any emotions in her gaze.

(So does she just see me as…a tool that’ll kill her…?)

I don’t know. I don’t want to think right now. About anything.

“…Don’t talk t’ me right now. Let’s go.” Zack’s tone is closed-off as he speaks. He turns away as if to block everything from his sight.

“Okay…” Ray gives a small nod.

(…Zack’s kind of angry.)

She doesn’t know why. But she can tell that he’s extremely irritated.

Is it because I fell asleep…? Or is it because of that woman…

“…mutually selfish wish that only pushes responsibilities upon the other…”

(…No.)

That’s not it. The promise Zack and I made isn’t anything like that…

▲▽

Their footsteps resound down the hall.

Uoooh, uooooh…

The further they go, the louder that awful sound becomes.

(…It reeks.)

She nearly stops breathing as they turn the corner. In front of them is a wall of iron bars with no way to come in or out. There are cells on either side of the hallway, about ten each.

(This is the jail…)

There’s the scent of something rotting filling the air. There are no lights in the cells, and the hallway is still gloomy despite being lit by bulbs interspersed in the ceiling at regular intervals. Squinting into the cells, Ray can see human-like shapes crouched over on the ground.

But Zack appears disinterested, proceeding down the hall without even looking to either side.

Ray chases after him, glancing into each of the jail cells as she goes.

“…!”

And, peering into the deepest jail cell, she unintentionally lets out a cry of “wah!” and shuffles back. Something has grabbed her through the bars of the cell.

(What?)

Staring at it makes it clear that it’s a red hand that looks like nothing more than a lump of flesh. That hand desperately grasps at Ray’s thin ankle, as if asking for help.

“Ah? What is it?” Zack asks, turning back after Ray shrieks.

“A hand…” Ray whispers, staring at that reddish limb as it writhes like some sort of caterpillar.

“…Pets for the rest of their lives, huh.” Zack glowers at the hand, still laying its fingers upon Ray’s ankle. He stomps on it.

“Hah…just steppin’ on ‘em crushes ‘em up. Disgusting. They ended up like that ‘cause they chose to be her pets. Damn useless. Even worse than tools…there are people even dumber than me.” Zack laughs fearlessly, mocking the prisoners.

As he speaks, Ray stares at the hand beneath his foot. It practically looks like it’s been minced up.

(I wonder if he wanted help…)

Suddenly thinking this, Ray crouches down to touch that hand.

“Hey, don’t pay attention to ‘im. He’s gonna die anyway.” Zack sounds strangely upset by Ray’s actions.

“…He’s already dead.”

There’s no way she can help anymore. The hand won’t even twitch.

The person behind the bars isn’t breathing anymore either. She can faintly see his reddish black flesh in the dim light. Or maybe he hadn’t been breathing in the first place. After all, having been reduced to this pitiful form, like a lump of meat – he wasn’t human anymore.

“…That so.” The man sounds indifferent.

“Hey, Zack…do ghosts really not exist?” she asks quietly.

“’Course not. Ya only ask pointless stuff. This place stinks, so let’s go. We can’t waste time.”

“…Okay.”

Sensing Zack’s unusually angry demeanour, Ray can do nothing more than nod and follow him.

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Satsuriku no Tenshi Light Novel Volume 1 - B3 (Part 1)

Satsuriku no Tenshi - Until Death Do Them Part - B3 (Part 1)

Story by Makoto Sanada, written by Chiren Kina, illustrations by Negiyan, translations by me.

If you want to help out with translations, feel free to contact me!

Prologue | B7 | B6 | B5 | B4 (Part 1 / Part 2) | B3 (Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4) | Zack’s Memory || Index

“Hey, Zack…make sure to kill me after we get out of here, just like you swore to God.”

Ray looks up at Zack as if in prayer as they ride upon the elevator taking them to B3.

As long as we get out of here okay, I’ll be able to get Zack to kill me…

To Ray, that is her last…her only beacon of hope.

“Ya…don’t gotta say that over’n’over again. I get it.” Zack’s voice is intermingled with a sigh as he gazes into the girl’s eyes. Her persistence never ceases to amaze him.

The elevator doors swing open. Ray has to squint her eyes against the dazzling light.

(It’s bright…)

The floors until now were dim and gloomy. This one seems to simply have an excess of light. Looking up at the ceiling reveals that an abundance of fixtures have been installed in it.

“B3, huh. Even though we could just go all the way t’ the top, it’s gotta stop every damn time. I guess we gotta find another elevator,” Zack grumbles irritably.

“That’s right.” With a quiet hum of acknowledgement, Ray steps out of the elevator. In front of them is a wall of iron bars, blocking their path. Gently, she reaches out a hand to fiddle with the door.

(It’s locked…)

Ray’s expression trembles slightly beneath her apathetic face. If this door won’t open, they won’t be able to proceed further.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Zack looks puzzled as he stares at her standing there motionlessly.

“I wonder if you’ll understand even if I tell you…probably not.”

“Ah?! Just say it anyway, ya don’t know if I’ll get it or not!”

“All right. …This door is locked,” Ray answers quietly.

“Uh, I might be an idiot, but even I know that.” Though she likely had no ill intent, Zack’s lips curve slightly at her words.

“Do you?”

“…Anyway, ain’tcha good at openin’ locked doors? Good luck.” Given yet another cruel response, the man’s lips twist unpleasantly, and he urges her forth, content to leave the work to her.

“Yeah, I’ll do my best…” Ray nods, despite being at an utter loss.

The room they’re locked in together is a little over nine square metres. No matter where she looks, she can’t see anything else in it. It doesn’t look like she’ll be able to find any clues for unlocking the door just by searching.

(I have to be useful to Zack. But, what can I…?)

Ray slips a hand into the purse slung about her shoulders, looking for some kind of tool she might be able to use. Inside – are her sewing tools and something wrapped in a handkerchief.

(But, this is…)

Upon suddenly touching that thing, she takes a deep breath.

(I can’t…use this…)

Exhaling slowly, Ray once again uses the handkerchief to cover that thing up with her slender fingers.

“Did ya find something?”

Unable to go on waiting, Zack attempts to peer into her pouch from behind her. A little startled, Ray turns to face him.

“Uh, thread, needle, and – ”

“Oh? Can ya pick the lock with that?” he asks, interrupting her.

“No. And this door doesn’t have a keyhole.” Ray shakes her head softly.

“So there’s no point in havin’ a needle or thread! Move, I’ll smash it open!”

“These are iron bars, so I don’t think you’ll be able to…”

“Shut up. We won’t know ‘till I try it!”

(Ah…)

Paying no heed to Ray’s warnings, Zack vigorously swings his large scythe at the iron bars. But, of course, the door doesn’t move even an inch. All he’s managed to do is cause a small mark.

“Shit, it’s hard!”

His hands grow numb from the recoil.

“…It’s iron.” Ray stares at Zack with an expression as if to say I told you so.

“Then ya shoulda said somethin’ sooner! My hands feel all nasty!”

“…I told you they were iron bars,” Ray says, her voice full of exasperation.

It’s at that moment that, before they can even react, a dazzling beam of red light envelops the room.

“…”

“…What?!”

In contrast to Ray, who stands there in disinterested acceptance of her situation, Zack cautiously looks around the room.

Before long, an ear-piercingly shrill beeping sound resonates around them.

“Hey, get back!”

Coming to his senses, Zack grabs a hold of Ray’s arm, pulling her toward him as he leaps out of the way of the door. He has the feeling he heard a soft noise…like a click from the ceiling, as if something had moved.

And, the next moment, just as he had suspected – a countless number of guns fire at precisely the spot Ray had been standing in.

She feels like her eardrums might rupture. Trembling slightly from the terrible sound, Ray unconsciously presses her face against Zack’s chest for just a moment.

“…Tryin’ t’ make ya into swiss cheese or somethin’…” Zack mutters dumbfoundedly as the guns cease their fire. Turning his gaze up to where the bullets had come from, he sees that numerous firearm muzzles poke out from the ceiling where previously there had been nothing out of the ordinary.

(…Bullets.)

Ray slowly takes a step back from him and takes in a short breath. Her heart is restless. The blue moon from that night faintly comes to mind.

The red light flickers out. Instead, a spotlight so strong the two of them can hardly open their eyes shines upon them.

(It’s bright…)

Ray squints her eyes.

((Ahahahah!))

The shrill, mad laughter of a woman bounces off the walls of the room that still echoes with gunshot fire.

((Hiii! Sorry about the late welcome! You were just so slow that I accidentally took a nap! …But…good job on not dying for now. You pass!))

Even though there is no one else in the room, the walls nearly shake with the forceful sound of loud applause.

(So loud…)

It’s truly unbelievably noisy.

((Especially you, Zack! I wonder just how wonderful your instinct really is! To tell the truth…I’ve thought for quite a while that you would make a splendid sinner. I was all sleepy just a moment ago, but now I’m wide awake!))

(A splendid sinner…?)

The woman simply sounds disparaging to Zack, and it vexes him. He looks toward where her voice seems to come from. But she is nowhere to be seen.

This is because the woman speaks to them through speakers installed all over the floor, elegantly watching them on a large monitor within a room through her surveillance cameras.

“I don’t give a single damn if yer sleepin’ or awake! More importantly, open the damn door already!” Within the spotlight so vibrant it seems it might melt the two of them, Zack snarls out an order and kicks the iron bars.

((Yes, of course. You’ve both passed, so I’ll grant you that boon. But I still haven’t finished putting on my makeup. I was asleep, after all! So how about you prepare to receive your punishment, while I finish up over here?))

“…Hah? Prepare?” Zack’s expression twists in confusion as he listens to the woman speak.

((Yes. Sinners have to take some steps before they can accept their punishment. It just feels better that way, don’t you think? Yes…when you talk of sinners…you obviously need a good mugshot. So go on, chop chop! I’ve left a door open for you.))

After speaking, the woman uses a complicated-looking machine panel to open the door.

“…What’s a mugshot?” Zack asks, looking down at Ray.

Ray opens her mouth to reply, but the woman’s voice rings out as if to interrupt her.

((A picture of your face, Zack. You’ve never had one taken before, have you? How wonderful! I’ll treasure it dearly.))

“…”

Ray stares up at the camera with a displeased expression. Both Zack and she must surely be reflected to that woman through that camera.

((That’s right…Rachel, you too. Make sure you both have your nameplates. If you don’t do as you’re told, you won’t be able to proceed to the next room.))

The woman stares steadily into the monitor as Ray stares back with an utterly unreadable expression. She has no idea what that girl is thinking.

(Rachel…)

Hearing a woman she doesn’t even know say her name feels rather odd.

((Heheh…I am the condemner…oh, you sinful evildoers! I’ll punish you until you’ve been forgiven. Because I am the one who has been permitted to do so!))

The woman speaks rapidly in an enthusiastic voice, as if having been given a part to play. And then the broadcast cuts off.

“…Argh, seriously, what the hell was that?! Her voice is so damn annoyin’, and she just blabbers on about whatever she wants…why the hell do I gotta be punished?! Leave the sleep talk for when yer asleep!” Zack grumbles, clicking his tongue.

“…Sinners…” Ray murmurs to herself, as if unable to hear him.

“Hey, Ray. We don’t got time t’ listen t’ that crazy bitch. Let’s go already.” Huffing out his breath in annoyance, the man proceeds through the door.

“…Yeah.”

(…Sinners…)

People who have committed a sin…

As Ray follows after Zack, that word echoes and whirls over and over within her heart.

▲▽

…Serial killer.

As Ray looks up at Zack’s face as they walk, she suddenly recalls what she had read in his profile.

(Zack’s killed a lot of people…)

“Zack, why did you start killing?:”

“Ah? What’s this all of a sudden?”

“…I’m a bit curious,” Ray says. If she says she’s not truly that interested, it might wind up being a lie. But he doesn’t need to answer. She simply wants to talk – it might not matter about what.

And, the word that woman had said, “sinner”…it still clings to her heart, difficult to dislodge.

“Dunno. But there are tons of worthless people that can be killed, right?” Zack replies as he walks. He’s never really thought deeply about whose life he ends. But, the first time he’d killed someone had probably been because he had thought they would be better off dead than alive.

But since then, I think it’s been different…I just kill ‘cause I want to.

“So you kill those sort of people, Zack…?”

“Not really. I just kill when I want to kill.”

(Because I want to…)

I wonder when he thinks he wants to kill someone…I wish he would think that way about me…

▲▽

The pair walk into the room that had been indicated to them by the woman.

It’s a room exclusively for taking mugshots. The back wall is white with a black border.

(I guess we’re supposed to take a picture in front of this…?)

In front of the wall is a polaroid camera. Beneath it, on the floor, are what appear to be numerous discarded photos, likely taken by that camera.

Ray kneels down to pick them up. All the people in the pictures hold nameplates, probably their own names. And each and every one of them have expressions of despair, as if foreseeing their own deaths.

(I feel like I didn’t see any of these people in the profiles…they might still be alive…)

Where are they…?

Feeling a bit of an uncomfortable chill, the girl stands up and looks around the room. Upon a desk are a set of strings and two white, seemingly blank plates. Quietly picking them up and turning them over reveals that they each have hers and Zack’s full names written upon them. These are likely meant to be hung around their necks.

“…Zack, I think you’re supposed to hang this on your neck,” Ray says, picking up the plate that says Isaac Foster and holding it out to him.

“Yeah.” Not thinking of anything whatsoever, the man takes the plate and hangs it upon himself as she told him to.

“…But…why the hell do I gotta get my picture taken…this is so stupid.” However, he quickly becomes angry at himself, perceiving his actions as bending to that woman’s orders. Having become an adult, he has absolutely no intention of adhering to anyone. But she had said that they wouldn’t be able to go further until they took their mugshots.

“…Haah.” Zack sighs at his situation. All he wants to do is get out of here, but it seems like he’s just being tossed around by each of the other floor masters.

“…Do you not like pictures?” Hearing the sound, Ray turns to ask him this in concern.

“I don’t care. I’ve never taken one or had one taken before. I never wanted to, either.” He sounds like a rebellious teenage boy.

“I see…but, we have to do this if we want to go to the next room.” Ray’s expression is somewhat troubled as she speaks.

(I don’t really want to annoy Zack…)

Though she thinks this, on top of both being sacrifices, it seems that actually getting out of this building is somewhat tricky. There are many traps, perhaps to prevent people from running away. Though she still doesn’t know what sort of system this building operates on, seeing those pictures on the floor makes her believe that they aren’t the only sacrifices here.

“…Argh, shit, I get it! We just have t’ take ‘em, right?!” Cursing angrily, Zack goes to stand in front of the bordered background.

“Yeah…then, I’ll start.” Closing one eye, Ray peers into the camera’s lens.

“Yeah, yeah. Hurry up.”

(Ah, this is annoying…)

Unable to disguise his frustration, Zack fidgets and bounces. It’s difficult for the camera to focus.

“Um…please don’t move. It’s all blurry.” Ray earnestly cautions the man.

“What the hell, why are you so serious?!”

“Yes, like that.”

For an instant, Zack’s frenetic movements cease, and Ray presses the camera’s shutter.

A picture soon emerges from the polaroid camera. And a short while later, Zack’s face appears on the film. Though his expression is displeased, the picture isn’t blurry at all.

(It took a good picture…)

Ray is a bit happy. Somehow, she’s having enough fun to forget that she’s being treated like a criminal.

Putting the picture into her purse, Ray picks up the nameplate with Rachel Gardner written on it and hangs it over her neck. Her movements seem to say that she is enjoying herself.

“Take mine next.”

After speaking to Zack, she walks to stand in front of the white background. Her footsteps are light and cheerful, and don’t match with her cool expression.

“Yeah…so I just push here?” Since this is his first time touching a camera, the man feels somewhat uneasy.

“Yeah.” Ray gives a small nod. So Zack simply presses the button thoughtlessly.

“Ah…”

(He wasn’t even looking into the lens…)

“Heh, I really just had to push the button,” Zack says happily as he investigates the picture the camera prints out. “It’s kinda fun. ‘N easy, too.”

“…But it’s blurry,” Ray complains blankly.

“Aah? Yer the one who told me all I had t’ do was press the button.”

“…”

Ray sinks into silence upon hearing his simple counterargument. She unconsciously begins to pout due to her poor mood.

“Ya got the picture, so it’s fine, right?” the man mumbles, perhaps sensing this.

“Yeah, you’re right…” Ray nods. Though she’d been having fun, they’re only doing this to abide by the woman’s instructions so that they can go to the next room.

“It looks pretty good anyway.” Zack’s expression is rather satisfied as he looks down at the film with Ray’s delicate features. He doesn’t especially like having his picture taken, but taking pictures is unexpectedly fun. And it’s the first time he’s ever touched this sort of machine.

“It’s not.” But Ray quickly shakes her head. After all, the picture is blurry. But perhaps, seeing as she is unable to smile, she wouldn’t have a good picture no matter the situation.

As she’s enveloped in a strange feeling of disappointment, there’s a click in the room – surely the sound of the next door opening.

“Oh, it’s open!”

“Okay.”

Though she doesn’t especially like her own picture, she places it into her pouch as well, and chases after Zack. They proceed to the next room.

▲▽

Opening the door reveals a room with an extremely white, pristine floor. There’s not even a speck of dirt.

(…It looks a bit like the room I woke up in.)

In the centre of the space is a transparent box that almost looks like a shower room. It’s about as large as a telephone booth. Affixed to the entrance is a small plate.

(There’s something written there…)

Drawing nearer to it, Ray scans the mocking message.

You sinners must disinfect those sinful bodies of yours! Make sure to do it properly, or else the next door won’t open~ ♪

She reads aloud in a monotonous voice.

(Did that woman write this…?)

“Disinfect, huh?” Zack’s expression twists in confusion. Being honest, he doesn’t have much of an idea of what that could mean.

“Yeah. It says the next door won’t open until we do.”

“…Another one of these, huh. What are we supposed to do?”

“Maybe we should go inside this thing?” Ray suggests. Though she doesn’t know what to do either, other than “disinfect” herself, the machine in the middle leaves her no other ideas.

“What’s ‘disinfect’?”

“I don’t know…” Ray tilts her head a little. The only thing that comes to mind is something she’s seen in a television drama – a bright light that exterminates bacteria, or something.

“Well, whatever. It’s pointless to stand around here thinking. Let’s finish this.” Zack sighs as he enters the box. It doesn’t sit right with him to do things so slowly.

“Okay.”

Ray enters the machine as well. That next instant, the door locks, as if someone is operating the device from somewhere. Letters scroll along the inside of the door. It says, “disinfection start”. A stream of liquid, reeking of alcohol, flows from the ceiling.

“Hah?! The hell is this?!”

(Heavy rain…)

It’s been years since he’d started living in this building. He can’t remember the last time he heard heavy rain. Feeling like he’s about to become overwhelmed by memories he doesn’t want to remember, he reflexively hits his hand against the door. But it’s locked, and won’t open that easily.

(…I didn’t hear about this…)

Having had her expectations completely trounced, Ray once more falls into silence. It goes without saying that she feels displeased.

After about a minute of raining down upon them, the stream finally stops, and the doors open after a message of “disinfection complete” scrolls along the panes.

“Haah…haah…this is way above gettin’ disinfected…!” Immediately after getting out, Zack takes in a series of harsh breaths. It had been nearly impossible to breathe underneath that harsh rain.

“…”

Still silent, and utterly soaked, Ray exits the device as well. With a sudden start, she recalls her purse, and slips her hand into it. It’ll be a problem if the things inside get wet. But the artificial leather has done a good job of repelling the liquid, and nothing has gotten soaked.

(…Thank goodness.)

Once more, that high-spirited woman’s voice reverberates throughout the room.

((Hiii! It seems you’re all well and prepared for your judgement!))

“Hey, bitch, stop screwin’ around! Stop bein’ all lively’n’crap!” Zack raises his voice angrily, as if he has no intention of losing to that woman. His pants had just finally gotten dry from when he had been in the pool on B4.

((Ahahah, you seemed quite dirty, I think it’s fine.))

The woman replies pleasantly. She feels extremely delighted just looking at how soaked the two of them are through her cameras.

(…I want to dry my hair.)

The alcoholic liquid drips from Ray’s platinum blonde hair. Feeling truly annoyed, she lifts a small hand to gather the liquid from some of the strands.

((Well, now that you’re ready, I’ll give you two a bit of a choice!))

“Hah? There’s somethin’ else?!”

((Yes, Zack. This is just the beginning. After you leave this room, there will be maaany painful punishments awaiting you both! So…how about just going to jail? You can take as much time as you want thinking back on all the sins you’ve committed. It’ll be quite valuable to you, I think. And if you do, you’ll have a splendid life ahead of you as one of my pets! So, what do you say?))

The woman crosses her legs and applies mascara to her long lashes as she looks at the two of them through the monitor. They both look so annoyed.

“Who would willingly do somethin’ like that?” Zack snaps. If he’s going to be kept as a pet in some jail and die slowly, he’s better off just stabbing himself.

“So it’d be for my whole life…I wouldn’t just die immediately…?” Imagining herself imprisoned in such a jail, the girl finds herself asking the woman this.

(Aah?!)

Zack glowers at the girl. She had been this way on Eddie’s floor, too. He doesn’t especially like her attitude that anyone can kill her, even if it isn’t him.

((Oh, my…Rachel, you’d like to go to jail? You can of course enter on your own.))

The woman giggles, and urges her on. It will certainly be entertaining to see the girl die as a doll within one of her cells, all alone.

“She’s not goin’! Hey, Ray. Don’t react t’ what she says! Let’s go!”

Annoyed by the girl’s indecisiveness, Zack grabs one of her slender arms and pulls her toward the now-open door.

(Hmph…)

To the woman, this is not an especially interesting scene.

(But, that promise – I should do this while I can…)

((I see…how unfortunate. And I thought I could keep you forever. Well, if you feel like going to jail, just tell me, all right?))

Thinking of all the things that might occur in the future, the woman laughs boldly.

“Shut up!” Zack shouts angrily as he tugs Ray along.

▲▽

(Does that mean she wanted to go to jail?)

Even though she asked him to kill her, she acts like anything goes so long as she gets to die. Ray’s wishy-washy attitude causes the man ceaseless irritation as he proceeds down the hall.

(Well, it’s not like I wanna kill her…with such a boring face…)

In order to quell the strange, murky feelings welling up within him, Zack opens the next door. He’s greeted by a strange scent that flows through the air, like the smell of something burning.

(What is this?)

Feeling rather uneasy, Ray warily steps into the room, looking around. Inside is a raised portion that almost looks like some sort of stage. And on that stage is an ominous-looking chair, attached by chords to complicated-looking machinery on both sides.

“…”

The girl fearfully approaches the chair. It doesn’t appear to be functional at the moment, but it does seem to have restraints.

(This chair…is probably…)

I’ve seen this in a movie once.

Recalling that cruel scene, the girl takes a small gulp of air.

(But…what are these dolls?)

In front of the strange chair, assembled like an audience, are a series of faceless, childlike dolls – there are sixteen in all, all sitting upon chairs of their own.

“What’s up with those?” Zack asks dumbfoundedly as he stares at the mysterious sight.

“I don’t know.” Ray stares at the dolls silently, trying to figure out what they might be for.

“They’re damn ugly, too.”

“…Are they?” Ray tilts her head a little upon hearing his frank judgement. Ray doesn’t see those dolls as creepy or ugly. On the contrary, seeing them all lined up like this is rather nostalgic and pleasant.

“…Ya got bad taste.” Zack scowls slightly, seeing how different their taste in aesthetics is.

“Is this the first judgement room?” Ray suddenly remembers the woman’s statements.

“Who knows,” he replies nonchalantly. It’s not that he had been ignoring her – he simply can’t be bothered to remember so many things.

Click. An unsettling noise sounds from the entrance.

(…Was it locked?)

Ray rushes to the door and turns the knob.

“Zack, it’s locked.”

“Ah? What is it with everyone here and lockin’ doors and talkin’ t’ people…”

“I think she’s watching us through the cameras,” Ray replies, looking up at one of the cameras in the ceiling. She’s seen them everywhere since she woke up on B7. It’s easy to guess that the woman must have been watching them all this time.

“Hah?! Seriously?! That’s creepy.”

“You wouldn’t do that, Zack?”

“No. There wasn’t anything like that in my room, anyway. Well, even if there were, I don’t got such gross hobbies like that.”

Zack continues speaking, somewhat listlessly,

“Anyway, let’s get outta here already. Just loiterin’ around…ain’t gonna let us move back or forward. This kinda stuff tires me out the most.”

Zack lets out an enormous sigh as he looks around the room. And then, as if to take a break, he promptly sits upon the eerie chair.

“Hey, Zack…I don’t think you should sit on that…”

Ray urges him to get away from it. She remembers a wicked scene she had seen in a movie once. A person, slowly burning to death as they suffer in that awful chair…

“Ah? Shut it. I’m damn tired.”

But Zack relaxes even further upon the chair, crossing his legs.

“…You should get off. I think that chair is…” The girl pales as she looks up at him.

“Huh? What about this chair?” He glares at her. From Zack’s perspective, her expression doesn’t appear especially panicked. He doesn’t know what she’s thinking at all. All he knows is that her eyes are dead.

And, with those dead eyes of hers, Ray stares at him – completely oblivious to any danger he’s in, with a stupid look on his face – and says in a small voice:

“…An electric chair – for executions…”

And then, as if someone somewhere had pressed a button, the restraints on the chair fasten around Zack’s body.

((Ahahahah!))

At that moment, the woman’s laughter reverberates around the room at a pitch so high it seems like it could kill insects. An enormous monitor descends from the ceiling. On it is a beautiful woman with medium-length blonde hair, the tips of which have been dyed pink. Her eyes are catlike.

((Hiii! Sorry for meeting you like this through a screen. I am this floor’s condemner. Please burn me in your memory. Oh my – Zack is the one who sat down!))

(…How wonderful.)

The woman chuckles to herself. A most marvellous scenario has clicked in place within her mind.

“Hey, you bitch, let me out of here!” Zack snarls at the woman. The restraints jangle uselessly as he struggles. The cuffs won’t break simply from his ridiculous strength.

((Zack, what are you saying? I can’t just let you go. What kind of condemner wouldn’t give punishment to a sinner? Sinners must compensate for their sins until their lives end.))

The woman cheerfully bounces in her seat. She can hardly contain her excitement at the prospect of hurting Zack with her own hands as much as her heart desires.

(…I’m so happy, I might kill you right now, Zack.)

Filled with great joy, the woman happily operates the machine at hand. A violent current passes through the chair for several seconds.

“…Ugh…!”

Zack’s form writhes on the chair.

(…!)

Ray’s eyes widen as she stares at that painful sight.

“Zack…” As the current stops, Ray approaches the man and calls his name in a voice tinged with anguish.

“…”

But Zack gives no response.

((Oh, my. Zack?))

The woman also seems somewhat uneasy. But she isn’t worried. She simply thinks that it’s boring that Zack should die from something like this.

“…That hurts! You sadistic bitch!”

But Zack wouldn’t die from that. His furious voice fills the air.

(…He’s alive.)

Seeing him so full of vigour, Ray sighs, and presses a hand to her chest in relief.

((How amazing! He’s alive, he’s alive! A murderer, a monster, he’s practically my ideal sinner!))

The woman’s voice is full of excitement, having witnessed Zack’s inhuman immortality with her very eyes.

“Shuddap! Don’t get so happy! I’m gonna kill you! Let me go, damnit!” Zack attempts to break his bonds as he shouts. But he can only manage to move his limbs and torso only slightly.

((Heheh, of course…then how about this: I’ll have that chair send toooons of electric volts through your body…all the while Rachel Gardner tries to turn it off. If it all goes well, I’ll let you through.))

As she speaks of such dreadful things so cheerfully, the woman tilts her head slightly.

(…All the while?)

“…Stop. He’ll die,” Ray says calmly.

This electric chair is used for executions. Even Zack would die from being kept in that chair. Anyone could make this conclusion easily.

((Wouldn’t it be fun to see…just how much of a strong-willed, monstrous sinner Zack is? Oh, Zack…my heart is just pounding! I simply can’t wait to see how much of my punishment a monster like you can handle!))

Of course, the woman has no intention of stopping. On the contrary, she’s impatient to begin the torture immediately.

(I want to see his face warped in agony…)

((Now then, everyone! The judgement will now begin! Please enjoy this wicked sinner’s suffering as he squirms in pain!))

The woman calls out in a strange voice.

Suddenly, the heads of the dolls in front of the stage begin to shudder and shake left and right.

Seeing that strange spectacle, Ray’s body shivers in disgust and grows stiff. It doesn’t seem as if the dolls are being controlled – it looks as if they’ve suddenly been granted life.

((The spectators gaze hatefully at the sinner…and it is in these gazes that the sinner’s death has merit. Here, the onlookers’ eyes pass judgement… Now, start ♪))

The woman’s words are utterly mysterious. And, as she flicks the monitor feed off, her gaze meets Ray’s, and she gives her a strange wink.

The eerie chair Zack sits upon soon gives out an extremely loud sound – and a rush of electricity even harsher than before courses through it.

“…!”

Unable to hold back a groan, Zack’s form twists on the chair. His entire body shakes. It seems he might lose consciousness in a matter of moments.

“Zack…!”

Ray can’t come close to him because of the violent current.

“…Hey, Ray! What ya gotta do now, is keep our promise…! Do it! Ya said…ya wanna be useful…! But…let me kill…that sadistic bitch…!!” Zack musters all his strength as he snarls, even as the electric volts course through him. A normal person wouldn’t have been able to bear it.

“…Okay, I’ll try.” Ray’s expression becomes grim as she stares at that far too cruel sight. She gives a small nod.

“You know…what’ll happen…i-if I die, right?!” Zack asks, his expression full of pain.

(I don’t wanna die…and I’m not gonna let that psycho bitch kill me.)

But it’s true – that he’ll die if this keeps up.

(If Zack dies…)

I don’t want that…I have to stop this somehow.

“…If you die, you won’t be able to do anything. That’ll be a problem.” Composing herself, Ray answers him.

“If you understand…then do something…quickly!”

“Okay.” Gazing firmly into his eyes, she nods.

“The spectators gaze hatefully at the sinner…”

(Are the dolls the spectators…?)

Ray feels that the woman’s final words must have been a hint to unravelling this puzzle – and sinks deep into thought as she considers them.

(The spectators gaze…that must be it…)

The sixteen dolls gazing at the electric chair…

The dolls’ heads rock in mirth as they stare at Zack.

(…?)

Ray abruptly realises that some of the dolls’ heads are not moving. She draws nearer to those dolls.

“It is in these gazes that the sinner’s death has merit.”

(Their gazes give the sinner’s death merit…so I have to take that merit away…maybe…I have to turn their gazes away from him…?)

Ray grips the motionless heads and uses all her strength to twist them around. Upon doing so, it seems like the electric current coursing through the chair lessens slightly.

(It got weaker…?)

“…Zack, how is it? Is it better?” Ray asks, trying to ensure that her plan is working.

“Aah?! Are you joking?! It fuckin’…hurts! Do something!” But Zack’s body hasn’t ceased writhing just from that. His entire body shakes, as if he’s trying to relieve himself of the pain.

“…I’ll hurry. …I’m trying.”

(I must hurry…)

Ray’s fingers ball into fists.

(So I’ve figured out that I have to turn the dolls’ faces away…)

But the remaining dolls’ heads tremble left and right furiously, and it’s difficult to twist their necks.

(…I have to cut them…)

That’s the only way she can help Zack now.

“…Hey, Zack, could you throw your scythe over here?” She wholeheartedly wishes to stop the electric current.

“Hah?!”

“Lend it to me, I need it,” Ray declares as she gazes at him.

(She’s…tryin’ to order me around when I’m about t’ die? Just what does she take me for…?!)

Despite the fact that it feels like his intestines might rupture, he manages to throw the scythe toward her. He doesn’t know what she might need that for, but he has no other options – if he wants to be saved, he has to count on her. Though…rather than having thrown it, it’s more accurate to say that he’d nudged the scythe along the floor.

“…I can’t reach it,” Ray mutters without thinking.

“I can’t…do anything! It’s up to…you!” Zack feels as if his consciousness is drifting further and further away.

(…Shit…)

He feels like his eyes could close at any second.

…No.

“Zack…?” Ray anxiously calls his name.

“…” Though Zack retains some amount of consciousness, he can’t speak. For some reason, he tastes stale bread on his tongue.

Why didn’t you come back…?

Like a spinning kaleidoscope, he sees his child’s self sad expression whirling through his mind.

“…It doesn’t matter if you’re loud. If you’re alive, say something,” Ray says, staring into his slightly open eyes. She wants to confirm that he’s alive.

(…What do you mean, say something…)

He feels unbelievably irritated by Ray’s attitude. She seems to have no consideration for someone on the brink of death. And it’s at that moment that his child self vanishes from his mind.

“Yer so…selfish! I’m gonna die!” Zack snaps, opening his eyes as if to give proof of his survival.

“…Thank goodness.”

(He’s alive…)

Ray’s voice is full of relief.

Zack can’t die – …after all, he’s the one who’s going to kill me…

Ray gently begins to lift Zack’s scythe. Though it must weigh somewhere around ten kilograms, she somehow manages to heft it up. She almost can’t believe Zack had been swinging this around so easily.

(It’s really heavy…but I have to try.)

Ray cuts down the dolls’ heads as quickly as she can. A strange red thing flows from the dolls’ necks. She has no leisure to wonder whether it might be thread, cotton, or something else. The instant she cuts all the heads off, the electricity flowing into the chair stops. The restraints binding Zack to the chair come undone at the same time.

(It stopped…)

Is Zack okay…?

Dropping the scythe to the floor, Ray rushes to his side.

“…Zack, are you okay?” she asks, peering into his listless face.

“…”

But he doesn’t respond. His eyes are closed. However, she can see his eyelashes fluttering faintly between the layers of bandages.

“…Zack…?” She calls his name once more.

“…”

Once again, no response. Nothing but silence flows between them. And Ray simply stares at him intently.

She has no idea how much time passes. It feels like a long time. But the man suddenly stands, enraged, from the chair, and shouts as if brought back to life,

“T…took ya long enough! How much d’ya think I can take?!”

“…You’re alive.” She stares up at him, looking slightly surprised. The moment she heard Zack’s voice, she somehow also felt as if she’d been revived.

“Aah?! Of course I am!”

“…I don’t know what I’d do if you were dead…” Ray’s words come from the very bottom of her heart.

“Hah? I’m not gonna die that easily, stupid.” Zack’s expression is full of pride as he boasts. He doesn’t seem as if he’d just been shocked by an electric chair.

“…Amazing,” Ray murmurs. His vitality can’t seem to be encompassed in that one word.

The large monitor lowers from the ceiling once more. The woman guffaws with laughter as usual.

((How truly amazing! I never thought you’d live through that…the toughness and vitality of monsters truly is fascinating! Oh…you truly are my ideal sinner, Zack. I did look forward to seeing you die…but I’m kind, so I’ll recognise that girl’s efforts…I’ll let you pass through!))

The woman winks gracefully. Ray hears the sound of a door opening.

((And there’s no such thing as only one punishment…there are as many as you have sins. Isn’t that wonderful?))

The woman reapplies bright red lipstick to her mouth and smiles. Before either Zack or Ray can speak, the monitor flickers off.

“That sadistic psycho-bitch…her voice is seriously annoying! I can’t stand that laugh! I’d kill her right now if she weren’t in some screen!” Zack kicks at the floor, trying to relieve his stress, and clicks his teeth.

“…”

Ray’s gaze flicks toward the ground.

(Kill…her…)

For some reason, a thorn pierces Ray’s heart as she hears the word Zack so carelessly directs toward that woman.

(…I don’t think Zack wants to kill me.)

When she thinks this, her chest prickles painfully. She can’t really explain what this feeling is. Because, after all, this is the first time in her life she has ever felt this way.

I don’t know…

She doesn’t know why, but for some reason the idea that Zack would want to kill someone else other than her is extremely unpleasant.

“Anyway, what is this? This looks like a damn murder scene…what were ya doin’?” Zack asks, having finally surveyed the room. The heads of the dolls are scattered about the floor.

“It seemed like the dolls were a part of the mechanism, so I cut their heads off,” Ray replies matter-of-factly.

“What the hell…that’s creepy…this is the worst….ya used my scythe for somethin’ weird, I was on that stupid chair…” Zack grumbles under his breath.

“…Half of it is your fault.” Ray sounds a little exasperated. Thinking back on it, Zack had sat in that electric chair of his own accord, so it’s easy to see where everything had started.

“Shut up, ya should’ve warned me!”

“…I did.”

“Ah? I didn’t hear anythin’ like that,” Zack retorts, his eyebrows furrowing. But it isn’t that he’s angry or upset. Because of the harsh electrical shocks, he can’t quite remember how they ended up in this situation.

“That’s your fault…”

“Well, ya saved me, so it doesn’t matter, right?!” His voice rises in defiance against the girl’s sulky tone.

“But, you might have died…and if you die, you won’t be able to kill me.” Ray’s expression is meek as she speaks. All Ray wishes for – is a future where Zack kills her.

“Ugh, yer really stubborn! You’ll become the worst ghost ever.”

“You said ghosts don’t exist.”

“Oh, shut it! Anyway, I’m not gonna die that easily.”

“…Really?” Ray looks up at Zack with eyes full of prayer.

“Yeah. I’m not gonna die. Anyway, that chair’s dangerous, so let’s get goin’!” Zack begins to walk briskly away, as if to escape Ray’s ever-present “wish”.

Even now, strangely, he can’t muster the desire to kill her. He can’t want to kill her. He’s never met anyone like this.

How does it feel to kill someone you don’t want to kill…?

Zack thinks quietly to himself. But it’s not as if he can’t kill her. He doesn’t want anyone else to kill her, either. Perhaps, if she shows him her best smiling face, he won’t be able to stop himself from ending her life.

(…This is a weird feeling.)

“…I won’t sit on it,” Ray says as she opens the door.

“I ain’t sittin’ on it, either!” Annoyed, Zack puts the room behind him. Ray follows him.

▲▽

The hallway now is lit-up by bright fluorescent lights. It feels a little strange.

“Zack, how much do you know about this building?” Ray asks as they walk.

“Huh? Didncha ask me a question like that already?”

“Yes, but…I was wondering how much you know about the other people here.”

“Not much…just that they’re all creepy,” he replies nonchalantly.

“Really? But you called Doctor Danny by name…and that boy in the grave.”

“Well, I knew their names, but I never really spent much time on their floors…sometimes I saw their faces, but they weren’t normal, so I never talked much t’ ‘em.”

(Who the hell is Doctor Danny, anyway…?)

Zack feels uncomfortable, hearing Ray talk about him in that manner.

He isn’t interested in anyone but himself. And if he did find interest in someone else – it’s because he’s uncomfortable seeing people go about their daily lives, and wants to see their expressions turn to despair. That’s all.

“Not normal…so, did you want to kill them?” Ray asks, though it almost sounds like she’s talking to herself. The word Zack had said to that woman still remains stuck to her heart, unable to be removed.

“Ah?” Zack isn’t aware of any complicated feelings Ray might have. After all, he quickly forgets the words he says when he’s unaware of them. Or perhaps it’s better to say he never remembered in the first place. He isn’t constantly itching to kill people, anyway. It’s an impulsive, transitory feeling.

“…Nothing.” Ray shakes her head in order to withdraw her earlier statement.

▲▽

After a short while of walking, the pair find themselves in front of yet another door. It’s marked with a plate that says “warning: danger”.

(Danger…)

Ray comes to a halt in front of the door, like a robot whose power has been cut off. That word seems ominous.

“Hey, what are ya doin’? Not goin’?” Zack peers into Ray’s face from behind, trying to urge her on. He’s completely unable to read the sign.

“It’s obviously dangerous,” Ray mutters. If that woman had gone to the trouble of writing that – there is likely some kind of trap waiting on the other side of this door.

(But if we want to go forward, we have to go through here…)

What should we do…?

“Hah? There’s no point in thinkin’ ‘bout whether it’s dangerous or not. We can’t go anywhere if we’re all scared’n’crap!” Zack seems to run out of breath as he shouts, irritated at seeing Ray fumble with the doorknob so indecisively.

“But, because of what happened before…I think we should be a little more careful.” As Ray speaks, she recalls that horrid scene – Zack’s body, struck by those volts of electricity, his eyes closed.

If I had been just a little too late, Zack might have died…

Just thinking this causes her to be more and more hesitant about entering the next room.

“Ah? It’ll be faster if we just go instead of screwin’ around,” comes Zack’s immediate reply.

Being on death’s door is now nothing more than something in the past to him.

It’s one of his principles to not look back on the past, ever since long ago. Perhaps more than simply being a principle, it’s a necessity. There is not a single memory he wants to look back on. Ever since he had been born, his life has been nothing more than the embodiment of unhappiness. So he’s not particularly afraid of difficulties or sorrow. Rather, he’s more frightened of being happy.

“…Zack, it’s okay to cross a stone bridge after hitting it,” * Ray points out sharply. Zack’s sense of danger is too dull.

“Hah?! But it’d break! How is it different from goin’ fast?!”

“…It is different, and that’s not what I meant.”

“What?! That’s what ya mean when ya talk ‘bout hittin’ stuff! Stop talkin’ about crap I don’t understand. Let’s get going!”

“…I feel like talking with you just confuses me…”

The punchline is lost to Zack, and the two cross into the “dangerous” room, talking amongst themselves.

* This is a Japanese proverb that means “to do something cautiously”. It’s often used to describe someone who is very careful.

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Satsuriku no Tenshi Light Novel Volume 1 - B4 (Part 2)

Satsuriku no Tenshi - Until Death Do Them Part - B4 (Part 2)

Story by Makoto Sanada, written by Chiren Kina, illustrations by Negiyan, translations by me.

If you want to help out with translations, feel free to contact me!

Prologue | B7 | B6 | B5 | B4 (Part 1 / Part 2) | B3 (Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4) | Zack’s Memory || Index

Ray rushes back to the First Cemetery and squeezes herself through the crack in the wall.

The inside of the crevice is darker than earlier and it’s difficult to proceed. Ray expects that the light in the room within has gone out. Strangely, near the entrance, is a box with emergency light written on it.

(I don’t think this was here before…)

Feeling uneasy, she opens the box. Inside is an old flashlight, and underneath it is another piece of paper.

There’s nothing to worry about. Your wish and mine are a perfect fit!

This is probably another letter addressed to her. The writing is the same as the others before it.

She’s scared. And yet, at the same time, she feels drawn to the words written upon the note.

(Anyway, I have to go forward…)

Ray puts the paper into her pocket and proceeds under guidance of the thin light, walking down the hallway. As she walks into the reference room, she notices yet another memo, as if it had been waiting for her.

I’ll grant your wish. But I have a wish of my own.

(…My wish…)

Taking in a deep breath, Ray shuts her eyes as if to isolate herself from the rest of the world. And in that moment, she feels someone approaching her from behind. But when she opens her eyes and turns around, there is no one to be found.

(What…?)

It’s not a ghost. Zack had told her that they don’t exist. But she’s still a little frightened, so she quickens her pace to find that indentation and return to him.

As she had expected, the cavity is indeed a large switch.

(They really do work together…)

She sees yet another piece of paper on the switch.

If possible, I’d like you to offer yourself to me. After all, “mutual love” is the best!

(Mutual love…?)

Confused by such unusual words, her heart stirs nervously in her chest. A figurative question mark appears above her head. But now is not the time to concern herself with the notes. Zack is waiting for her in the cold water. Despite her hesitation, she brushes the paper aside and steps onto the switch.

At that moment, there’s a small click sound. Suddenly, the wall that had once been a dead end rises up to the ceiling like a pair of shutters.

(…So this wasn’t a wall after all.)

Despite her surprise, she walks further into the room. It stretches into a long hallway, at the end of which is a door with a plaque that reads “Electrical Room / Third Cemetery”.

(Electrical room…there might be an elevator in there. I’ll check it out.)

She balls her hand into a tight fist. But as she begins to walk, yet another memo drifts down in front of her eyes – like a flower petal.

I know all about you. You want to die, right? So, please – say “yes”.

▲▽

(She’s damn slow…)

She probably ran – nah, prolly not. She said she can’t kill herself…

As Ray was exploring the crevice in the Second Cemetery, Zack waits, alone, in the cold water, impatient and irritable.

“But will you really be able to kill me? Since I’m boring…”

The girl’s concerned words unexpectedly cross through his mind.

(She wants me to kill her, but she’s got such a boring face…)

Zack sighs a little.

Why? He has absolutely no intent to kill that girl. This has never happened to him before. Whenever he looks into those dead eyes, all desires of killing simply vanish. It might be simply because she’d asked him to kill her – but he has the feeling that that isn’t the only reason. But he has no idea what else it could be.

“…’Kill me’, huh.” He recalls the stiff farce of a smile she had showed him.

(Well…that wouldn’t have been too bad if her eyes weren’t dead…)

“Haaah…”

Zack emits an enormous yawn as if to reset his brain.

(I’m probably gonna freeze if I stay in here any longer. I can prolly get out now…)

He pulls himself out of the pool.

(I’m all soaked…)

He takes off his red pants and wrings them out with both hands to get the water out. It won’t get dry that easily, but he has no other change of clothes, so his only choice is to put them back on.

(Anyway, what’s she doing?)

Irritably pulling the soaked pants on, he heads to the cemetery Ray had gone to. On the way there, for some reason Ray’s words slice through his mind.

“Because God said so.”

God, huh…she believes in something like that…

“God…doesn’t exist…”

Having arrived at the First Cemetery, he sighs slightly, staring at the graves he destroyed earlier. There’s probably sacrifices he killed on his own floor here somewhere. He can’t remember what sort of expressions they had anymore. Abruptly, he feels like he’s going to remember something unpleasant.

“Argh – !”

In order to quell the memories, he lets out a yell – and it’s at that moment that some sort of unpleasant sound reverberates throughout the floor, like something is about to break.

(Wh-what…?!)

And then all the lights go out, leaving Zack in complete and utter darkness.

“You grave destroyer.”

“Aah…?”

Though he can’t see, Zack quickly realises that the owner of that voice is the master of this floor – a young boy named Eddie. Eddie always retrieves the bodies Zack leaves. So, they’ve seen each other many times.

“Hey, Zack. It’s been a while.”

The lights flicker on, and, as he’d suspected, Eddie stands in front of him. As usual, he wears that ever-creepy, potato-like mask.

“What are ya doin’, Eddie?” He glowers at the boy, who looks strangely exhilarated.

“That’s what I want to ask you! I went to the trouble of preparing your grave, but you went and destroyed it! Why would you do that?” Eddie’s expression does a complete 180 degree flip as he begins to glare at the man in turn. Though it’s difficult for them to see each other’s expressions properly – due to the bandages and the mask – they both have an understanding of what the other is thinking.

“Heh, my grave was pretty lame, doncha think?” Zack brandishes his scythe at Eddie. But the lights flicker off yet again, and Eddie’s form disappears.

“Sorry, I made yours in a hurry. But a grave like that is fine for you, right? It’s sloppy and crude, just like you!”

“Aah? Want me to make you yer own grave first?” In the darkness, the words drift toward him as if to fan the flames of his ire, and, annoyed, Zack turns in the direction of the voice and brings down his scythe.

(Tch…it’s dark.)

But, due to the darkness, he doesn’t touch him.

Eddie laughs as the man spins in fruitless circles.

“I fell in love with her at first sight…”

And, in the darkness like night, Eddie begins to speak of his idealisation.

“I’m always making graves for the other people killed here, but it’s been a little boring lately. I like making graves, but I hold no love for the people inside them…that’s not beautiful. I want to make my ideal grave for that girl!”

(That girl – is he talking about her?)

Seeing that Zack appears to be at a loss within the shadows, Eddie continues to speak, bouncing excitedly.

“You know, we’re probably close in age, and above all else, I can understand how she feels! Loving and being loved, mutual love…! It has to be way lovelier than some one-sided, messed up corpse, don’t you think? Well, if she wants…I don’t mind if it’s messy, too.”

It’s easy to read his desire to kill Ray as well as his freshly budding young love for her.

“Stop talkin’ about creepy shit.”

“Creepy…? What are you talking about? You’re way older than me, but you haven’t even felt love for a girl yet? You really are a savage. Oh, I truly am…far more perfect for her aesthetics than someone like you! That’s why I’m going to be the one to kill her. Don’t get in my way!”

The boy’s laughter wells up within the room. It grows further and further away as he continues to laugh, unable to contain the triumphant sound.

And, once his presence has completely left the room, there’s an echoing sound as the lights flicker on once more. Zack looks around in the dazzling light, searching for Eddie. But he’s nowhere to be found.

(Hey, hey, is that gravedigging brat trying to one-up me…?)

He fell in love with her at first sight?

He’s going to kill her?

“What’s he talkin’ about, love…fuckin’ gross that a brat would want to do something like that!”

All at once, shame toward himself and disgust of the one-sided emotions Eddie has toward Ray combine, and blood rushes to his head so violently he can hardly think straight.

Like I’d let a shithead like him kill her!

He immediately peers into the crevice Ray had gone through.

(She got in through here…)

“Hey, get back here!” he shouts into the crack somewhat impatiently.

“I told ya t’ come back!”

However, his words don’t reach her.

“Argh, damnit…she can’t hear me!”

(How far in did she go…?!)

Suddenly, Zack recalls the storage room. If there’s another room in that crack, it probably comes up to behind that one.

(I’ll go check it out…)

If she dies now, that’ll be a problem!

▲▽

Suddenly, Ray unthinkingly picks up that strange note.

I know all about you. You want to die, right? So, please – say “yes”.

Up till now, the memos she had received had all been vague – and her heart stirs with unease at the words spelled out so clearly on the paper. But at the same time, she also feels strangely excited.

At that moment, the light in her hand begins to flicker restlessly.

(The light… I guess the batteries are going out. I’ll go back.)

She can’t have Zack waiting for her in that chilly water forever. As she turns to go back to the First Cemetery, the flashlight completely shuts off. She can see absolutely nothing.

…Hey, Rachel, I can grant your wish.

(Eh…?)

And she can hear that strange, childish voice, right next to her ear.

She whirls around, feeling an uncomfortable chill. The flashlight flickers on. Who she sees standing behind her is a short boy wearing a strange mask – Eddie.

Observing Ray from beneath his mask, Eddie becomes ever more enchanted by her beauty. She’s even more lovely than she had looked from far off. Yes…rather than cute, “beautiful” is a far more accurate word to describe her.

“Ahahah, you don’t need to be so startled. Rachel, did you read all my love letters?” Bouncing like a young child, Eddie approaches her.

Unnerved by his strange movements, Ray takes several steps back. Even without being told, she’s quick to come to the conclusion that he must be this floor’s master. Zack’s form enters her mind. He’s definitely waiting for her.

(I have to get back…)

However, the moment she thinks this and turns away from Eddie, the wall that had risen up earlier comes down to block her path, as if to imprison her.

“You don’t need to run away, Rachel. …I wouldn’t just kill you, unlike some other people here. And I know your wish.”

“…My wish,” Ray murmurs, despite feeling unease at being locked within the room.

“Yes, that’s right. …I know all about you. About…your father and mother, about all the people around you, everything!” Eddie steps closer and closer to her as he speaks in a sweet voice as if reading from a picture book. “So, I can give you an easy death. That guy ruined your grave, but I can make you a perfect one again! …Hey, we seem to be close in age, right? So we fit together, don’t you think?”

Though Ray stares at him emotionlessly, as if his words have no meaning, Eddie continues to smile at her gently.

“Come on, try telling me your wish!” Despite feeling somewhat annoyed that Ray has yet to give him any kind of reaction, he continues to speak in a cheerful voice.

(Wish…my wish is…)

Ray gulps, and takes in a small breath.

She only has one wish. And that is for someone to kill her. And there is someone in front of her who would grant her that wish right now. That is undoubtedly the truth.

“…I want to die.” Ray gazes at the eye she can see through the slits of his mask – Eddie’s left eye – as she speaks.

“See, I was right! I can kill you, Rachel – so, say ‘yes’!” Eddie feels happy she has told him she wants to die. His eyes gleam with the delight of the possibility of making her his own.

“…”

“…I’ll kill you.”

But Ray remembers what Zack had told her.

Despite the fact that there is someone who would kill her right in front of her…Ray can’t say “yes”. The reason for that is, undoubtedly, the promise she had made with Zack. But it’s not because she would feel guilty for breaking that promise. Somewhere in her heart, Ray – had stopped thinking that she wants someone to kill her, and started thinking that she wants Zack to kill her.

“Come on, I’m getting impatient. Are you confused about something?”

Ray looks away from Eddie, who hangs his head glumly, and keeps silent.

“Is it…because of him?”

“…”

“Hey, why are you with Zack?” Seeing her completely disregard him in such a manner, Eddie begins to feel numb, and his voice becomes cold as he speaks to her.

“…I made a promise with him, that he’d kill me.” Ray finally answers his question. Whilst on the elevator on the way here, Zack’s words had echoed within her mind over and over.

“…Heh, that’s weird. How about I just kill you now instead of him?” Eddie’s voice drips with his discomfort. It’s not as if Ray absolutely has to be killed by Zack just because of some promise. On the contrary, according to the rules of this building, Eddie is the one who has the right to kill Ray, since he is the master of this floor.

“…But, then, he wouldn’t be able to get out of here,” Ray answers after thinking a moment.

Of course, her feelings of wanting to be killed right now have not changed. It’s not as if she isn’t moved by Eddie’s words. She’s certain he would kill her painlessly if she were to simply ask. But for some reason, she simply can’t feel as if she wants Eddie to kill her. Her heart is mysteriously occupied by Zack’s existence.

“What…but that doesn’t matter at all.” Eddie can no longer suppress his scornful laughter at how closely her answers are intertwined with the man.

“…Hey, Rachel, I’ll kill you… So, come on, just say ‘yes’!”

And, the moment he corners her against the wall –

“...Hey! Can ya hear me?!”

(…!)

From behind the wall, Ray can hear an irritated voice calling out.

“…Ah, he sounds so annoying…” Eddie sighs slightly.

There’s no doubt about it, the one shouting behind the wall – is Zack.

“Go on, choose. Do you want him to kill you, or me? …My beloved Rachel. I can most definitely give you a lovely sleep…” The childishness has left his voice – now, as Eddie stares into Ray’s eyes, he speaks to her almost seductively.

(Lovely…)

Ray can imagine herself being killed by Eddie. This might have been the first time someone had told her they loved her face to face. But in her imagination, she simply has a blank, doll-like face. That’s not what Zack would call a “good face”. She looks dead even before actually being killed.

“Hey, Eddie!”

“Yer ‘aesthetic’ stuff is pretty sloppy!”

“Yer sayin’ yer gonna kill her when her face is so boring?!”

In contrast to Ray, who sinks into her own thoughts, Zack grows irritated at Eddie’s words and shouts at them.

“Aah…just shut up already. I’m talking to Rachel right now.” Eddie’s voice sounds absolutely disgusted.

(…Talking…? Yer just manipulating her…!)

“Hey, Ray! Are you there?!”

“If ya can hear me, answer!”

He yells madly, unknowingly calling Ray’s name for the first time. The only sound that comes through to her is that shout of “Ray” that resonates within her.

“...Me?”

Surprised that he had said her name, she answers him.

“Yeah, obviously!”

“Don’t just go off and get yerself killed!”

“There are plenty of people who’d wanna kill ya in this building!”

“But I’m definiitely gonna be the one to do it...!”

“...I swear to God!”

In that moment, Ray – feels as if she can see in an infinite number of angel feathers fluttering before her eyes from the heavens.

Ring… The sound of a bell resonates around her.

“To God…?” she repeats with a quivering voice.

She doesn’t know if it’s normally moving or if it’s normally stock still…but right now, her quiet heart beats so harshly that she feels it might come to a halt entirely.

“…Yeah, that’s right…!”

“So, no one else besides me is gonna kill ya!”

Zack’s declaration is passionate. This might be the first time he’s ever raised his voice for someone else. The truth is that in his heart, he still can’t kill Ray, who is still so doll-like. But, for some reason – he doesn’t want someone else to kill Ray. He won’t allow it.

“…Okay.”

Ray nods her head, and yells loudly so her voice might reach the man behind the wall.

“Hit that wall as hard as you can…!”

She doesn’t want to be saved. She wants to see Zack right now.

Zack laughs broadly as he hears her request.

All the while, Eddie stares sorrowfully at Ray.

“Rachel, why?!”

But Eddie will no longer be reflected within Ray’s eyes. The only thing she sees is Zack.

The floor resonates with a harsh sound, as if the man were playing an instrument for her. And that sound catches at Ray’s small chest so harshly it hurts.

Bam, bam!

Bam, bam – !

The sound seems to intertwine with the beat of Ray’s heart, and grows ever louder, like a final crescendo of fireworks.

(Zack.)

Wrapped up in that sound, Ray’s heart begins to call that name for the first time.

And in that moment, the bams become louder than ever before.

And, with the shrill sound of an explosion, the wall finally crumbles. From the speckles of dust and rubble, the tall shadow of a man approaches.

“…Yo.” He smiles proudly at her.

“…” Keeping her heart under control, Ray stares directly at Zack. The ringing in her heart won’t stop. It’s almost like that night, that book…she feels the same sensations she had experienced when she had read the book written by God.

“Where’s the damn brat?” Having confirmed Ray’s safety with a look of relief, Zack quickly looks around the room. But Eddie has already concealed himself.

“Ohh…why, Rachel? There wouldn’t be a problem with me killing you… Do you really want him to kill you? I would definitely be better!”

Though he’s nowhere to be seen, he continues talking to Ray. It feels like he’s talking right next to her ear – but he truly isn’t there.

“Stop mumblin’ like that… Where are ya?! Get out here! I’ll kill ya!” Zack brandishes his scythe, raising his voice menacingly.

(…I don’t need Zack.)

“Rachel, I’ll kill you. – So, wait for me, okay?”

Eddie speaks calmly, as if completely ignoring Zack’s very existence.

(Rachel will definitely be mine. After all, I fell in love with her at first sight.)

Eddie’s voice fades away, and the sound of a door opening rings out through the room.

“Shit, that bastard ran away!” Zack stomps the ground. Then he turns to look at Ray, looking slightly angry.

“And you! Yer so weak! Why’d ya get caught by that shitty brat so easily?! Yer gonna die even if I don’t kill ya!”

“…Yeah.” Ray nods, though it seems as if she’s not wholly present in the moment.

“I’m definitely gonna be the one to do it…!”

“…I swear to God!”

Those words echo over and over in her head.

“Hey, are ya listenin t’ me?” Zack peers into the girl’s face. She doesn’t even twitch – it’s like she really has turned into a doll. “Hey!”

She finally seems to return to consciousness, and turns her face up toward him. Abruptly, she approaches him.

“Just now, you said…”

“Ah…?”

“God, God…you said…’I swear to God’… Will you really swear to God for me? Will you really swear to God to kill me…?” Ray unhesitatingly advances toward Zack, as if with the intent to corner him against the wall, repeating that word, God, over and over again. As Zack stares into her eyes, he can see some sort of concealed madness hidden within them.

(Wha…what’s she…?)

She’d been spaced out and quiet before, but now he feels a strange, ominous, unfamiliar presence from her.

“That’s what I said! I…hate…liars!” Despite his hesitation, he backs away slightly from her and shouts.

(Hate liars…)

“…I see. Okay. I’ll work hard. So I can be useful to you.”

Ray seems to regain her composure. After all, if Zack truly hates liars, then the oath he had just made to her would certainly be kept.

“Then good.” Now that the demon or whatever seems to have left Ray – Zack feels a bit relieved.

“…By the way, you said my name.” She suddenly remembers.

“Hey, Ray! Are you there?!”

That was what Zack had said back then. He had called her Ray.

“Oh, did I? But I don’t remember all of it. What was yer name again?”

“Rachel Gardner.” Ray gives her name just like when she had answered the computer on B7.

“That so. …I took ya along with me ‘cause I thought you’d be useful. …But yer also pretty troublesome.” Zack sighs as he speaks. “…Right? Ray.”

He stares at her with that glittering gold eye. Ray sees her expressionless self reflected within it. And she feels a bit strange. Perhaps because she tries to make some sort of expression.

(…Ray.)

It was the first time anyone had called her name like that. Unlike Eddie or Danny, Zack says her name not wanting anything of her. His voice is rough but still somehow gentle.

“So, what d’ya wanna do?” Zack asks, as if trying to take control of the situation.

“I heard a door opening somewhere just now. It’s probably that one.” Ray points at the door called Third Cemetery. “That kid is waiting…he said.”

“Annoying bastard. Well, I don’t wanna stay here any more anyway. Stinks of dirt. Let’s get outta here.”

“Yeah.”

Exchanging glances, the two of them continue down the gloomy hall toward the door.

▲▽

“I smell dirt…”

The corridor smells of damp earth. The plate on the door reads Third Cemetery, so the scent undoubtedly comes from there.

“He’s got even more graves? Don’t go jumpin’ in an open one.” Zack`s expression turns wry as he imagines the state of the room. Looking at her blank eyes, he figures she might do something dangerous like go off and die on her own.

“I said I wouldn’t commit suicide,” Ray declares, brushing his concerns aside. Her voice is clearly devoid of lies.

“Heheh, ya did, didn’t ya.”

(God…huh.)

Recalling Ray’s words, Zack opens the door, somewhat exasperated. The smell of soil is so strong as to be nauseating.

(…!)

“Hey!”

And among the massive quantity of graves within the room, Eddie stands near the entrance, holding a shovel.

“…You came, Rachel.” Eddie smiles softly beneath his mask, his gaze only on Ray.

(Killin’ this brat is just gonna be annoying…)

“Move, ya little shit,” Zack snaps harshly. Since Eddie keeps disrespecting him, he’s not in an especially good mood.

“Huh? Why should I listen to you?”

“’Cause I’ve been alive longer than ya!”

“Oh, that’s stupid. I’m really tired of talking with idiots.”

“Hah?!” Rage at Eddie’s attitude begins to flare within Zack’s heart.

(I’m gonna kill this brat!)

“Hey, Rachel, did you know what sort of person he is? He doesn’t know anything about beauty, and he was useless even in the past, too!”

“…I read that in his profile.” Rachel recalls the contents of the resume she had read. It was surely something Eddie had prepared.

“Then, why are you choosing Zack instead of me?! I can kill you!” Eddie’s voice grows hoarse, like a child wailing.

“…He swore to God for me…that he would kill me.” For an instant, those blue eyes that reflect nothing seem to shine.

“And to me, that is everything.”

Like the vision she’d seen earlier, angel feathers flutter before her eyes.

(To God…?)

Eddie’s eyes widen.

“…Hey, what’s with that God of yours? That’s weird. I didn’t hear anything like that from God.” With a bitter smile, Eddie thinks of the God he believes in. His God is different from Ray’s. “And, we don’t have that kind of freedom here. What we’ve been permitted to do here, is what we want on our own floors – and that includes…the right to kill.”

(…The right to kill.)

Ray looks to the ground.

(God wouldn’t give someone the right to kill…)

And thinks this deep in her heart.

“Hey, Rachel…will you just never accept me?”

Ray can see Eddie’s boyish round eyes through the holes in his mask.

“…The one who will kill me isn’t you.”

The one who will kill me…is that man…Zack.

Ray speaks in a voice far clearer than ever before as she thinks about what Zack had shouted at her from behind the wall.

“Hahahah! Ya heard her! Serves ya right, ya damn brat!” Zack laughs wholeheartedly at how mercilessly the girl responds to Eddie. He feels as if he’s won something.

(Not me…)

At that moment, Eddie’s heart becomes submerged with a past he doesn’t want to remember. It’s a memory of when he had still lived with his family –

▲▽

I had three other brothers. And my belongings were always passed down to me from my older brother.

I wanted new things. I wanted new things, that were only mine…

So I studied a lot. If I got good marks on a test… my parents got me what I wanted…like new toys or clothes. But even those would eventually be given to my younger brother.

But living things, and only living things, can’t be handed down or given away. In our house, there were many pets, like cats or birds, fish and bugs.

And of course, when we had them, they were “the household’s”. But there was always a single moment where I thought of them as “mine”. That was when I made graves for them. I was proud to make graves for them. I was able to make perfect graves for them.

The moment I buried them, I thought to myself, “Ah, this one is mine. In the end, I was able to bury this lovely one in a grave I made”. And I was happy.

One day, my older brother, emotionally unstable as if from unrequited love, vented his anger out on a bird, and killed it.

(How awful…even though this bird isn’t brother’s, he went and killed it!)

Despite my resentment, I made a grave for the bird. But I was unable to feel the joy of knowing it was mine.

The bird my brother had killed had been “stolen”, and it wasn’t mine anymore…

Next, our cat fell ill. We took him to the vet but were told his illness couldn’t be cured. So, he suffered terribly everyday.

“We can’t let him stay like this…how about we give him a peaceful death?” Mother said.

That night, I stole away that cat’s final moments with my own hands. I made him a grave. And I felt happier than I’d ever felt before. Seeing to his end, and making his grave…I truly felt, beyond a doubt, that that cat was mine…

▲▽

(So I have to kill Rachel, too…or else she won’t be mine.)

As if to chase away the past, Eddie’s fingers form into tight fists within his black gloves.

“Aah, what a shame. I wanted you to stay pretty even in death. Did you know? Graves are dark and cool, and they feel really nice…?”

‘”…I see,” Ray replies completely disinterestedly. It would be nice to pass away in such a grave.

“Hey, Rachel…let me at least put you there.”

(If I just put her in a grave, she’ll be mine…!)

Eddie quickly approaches her, and makes to grab her.

“…! What’re ya doin’!” Zack unthinkingly swings his scythe at Eddie.

“Ah, no! You thug! Murderer!” Eddie nimbly bolts out of the way and shouts at Zack. He gets away with only a scratch on his arm.

“Yer a murderer just like me!”

“Don’t liken me to you! No matter how strong you are, your head is empty! That’s why you’re always so angry, all you can do is run around! You can’t even do your job right and kill people properly!” Eddie angrily yells back at him. Ray watches their quarrel without expression. Eddie’s voice is that of a yet immature boy – she can’t see him as someone who lives here for the purpose of killing others.

“Hah? Yer tellin’ me that? You’re the one who’s all desperate! That’s a lot of frustration for a little brat! Don’t make me laugh.” Zack looks down at Eddie as if to provoke him.

“…Shut up, you idiot.” Eddie’s voice abruptly surpasses anger and suddenly becomes calm, hearing the way the man talks down to him. “I don’t care about you, I don’t need you. The one I want is Rachel.”

He turns to Ray and whispers as if reciting her a poem.

“Hey, Rachel…I’ll make you the most beautiful grave in the entire world, and hold you there for all eternity!”

To Eddie, this was a genuine, pure expression of his love.

“So…I’ll see to your end, Rachel…!”

As Eddie declares this, an unsettling sound reverberates around the room, and the floor is plunged into darkness.

“Ah, shit! Not again!” Unable to see once more, Zack feels a bit of anxiety. Ray might be killed by Eddie. He must avoid that outcome above all else. After all, he had promised Ray he would kill her.

“Hey, Ray! You go on ahead! This is an electrical room, right? So there’s gotta be a power source somewhere, yeah?! Put it on and get back here!” Zack calls out to Ray in a darkness so complete he can’t tell if his eyes are open or closed.

“Okay!” Despite her misgivings, Ray turns in the direction of the man’s voice, and pulls the flashlight out of her pocket. Then she begins to run.

(I have to find it – …But the flashlight doesn’t have much battery left…I have to hurry…!)

In the pitch darkness, Ray runs with only the unreliable flashlight to guide her way. The countless graves make the room seem like a labyrinth.

“…Hey, Rachel, where are you…?”

She can hear Eddie’s voice behind her.

(…I have to hurry!)

She sees a large machine. That’s definitely some sort of power supply. She runs toward it with all her strength and pulls a lever marked “B4 light”. In a single instant, the floor is illuminated. Ray stands at an elevated part of the room. And, looking down, she sees an enormous grave.

Standing in front of it is Eddie, overcome with surprise.

“Why, Rachel? I made your grave for you and everything…!” he laments, unable to understand why she would do such a thing. He gasps for breath, likely because he had so frantically run after her.

“…You don’t need to make my grave.” Somewhat out of breath herself, Ray replies to him coldly, shaking her head.

“Rachel, why would you say something like that?” Eddie’s voice trembles as he speaks. To him, Ray seems like ice that will never melt.

And Ray can see Zack, who had been chasing after them both.

“…That’s cause…ya got rejected!” Zack draws nearer to Eddie, who shouts childishly.

“…Don’t come near me…!”

Eddie’s voice roughens. He’d been so focused on chasing Ray that he had completely forgotten about Zack.

“Ray said she doesn’t desire yer damn grave.”

“…Liar.”

“I don’t tell lies. ‘Cause I hate liars.” Zack mercilessly presses forward, as if to drive the boy further into despair.

But why…I can make Rachel happy…

Someone always steals my precious things…

No…I’ll definitely take Rachel in the end!

Eddie turns to Ray and speaks quickly, as if trying to entreaty her.

“Hey, Rachel, stop hanging around this demon, and come inside my grave, okay? When you go in my grave, you’ll see, you won’t need to go home. You won’t have to go to that awful house with your parents…”

Looking straight at her, Eddie points his shovel at her.

(…Don’t need to go home.)

Those words reverberate in Ray’s heart, though she has no intention of going home even if she is able to get out of this building safely.

But the moment Zack sees Ray’s expression, that seems to waver for some reason, his irritation toward Eddie reaches its boiling point.

“Argh…you don’t shut up, do ya!”

He can’t afford to let Eddie get any closer to Ray. Because he’d promised that he would kill her.

“…Hey, if that grave is so nice, how ‘bout ya get in it first…?!”

(…!)

Eddie shudders at the villainous look in Zack’s eyes. But it’s too late –

Zack swings his scythe, and pierces Eddie’s chest in one swing.

A fountain of blood bursts from the boy’s chest, and in a single instant, his world is encroached with darkness. It’s not because the light has gone out – it’s because his life is just about to end.

(…Why?)

He can’t tell if he’s blind or if he’s in a pitch-black room anymore. All he’s conscious of is the bitterness of being unable to make Ray his.

“Oh, there’s a grave just perfect for ya here!” Seeing he truly is about to die, Zack grins, and throws him into the pit.

“Let’s cover ‘im up, too!” Speaking quickly, Zack picks up a gravestone that had been left on the ground, and shoves it onto the hole like a lid. Perhaps ironically, that was the new gravestone Eddie had just made for Ray.

“Hey, Ray, ya did good. He’s in his precious grave ‘cause of you! This conceited gravediggin’ bastard!” Zack laughs heartily.

(He said…that the graves feel nice, so he can probably go to heaven…)

Ray stares at the gravestone with near-transparent blue eyes, looking to be as if in prayer.

▲▽

“…Ah.”

At that moment, Ray becomes aware of a small card stuck in the other side of the stone. Descending, Ray pulls out her sewing set from her pocket and uses a needle to skillfully pull out the card.

“What’s that?”

“I think…it’s the card for the elevator.”

“Oh! We’ll finally get outta this shitty place.” Zack stretches out his body like a cat.

“Yeah.”

Ray puts the card into her pocket, then tugs at the hem of Zack’s hoodie.

“Hey…”

“…Ah?”

Somewhat unsettled by the cute action, Zack turns to look at her.

“Was I useful to you?” Ray asks in a serious voice as she looks up at the man, thirty centimetres taller than her.

“Uh…anyway, stop! Stop with that ‘you’ thing. It’s creepy.” *

“…Then, Isaac?” Ray tilts her head like a little bird.

“…Zack. Just Zack is fine,” Zack mutters as he turns his gaze away.

“Okay. Zack, was I useful?” She promptly corrects herself as she hurries after him.

“Yeah, a little bit,” Zack mumbles, scratching at his cheek. It’s a habit he has when he feels embarrassed.

“…I see. That’s good,” Ray whispers, and closes her eyes.

I swear…to God.

Those words still reverberate within her.

* Note: Ray uses a form of “you” that is polite. Zack doesn’t like it.

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Satsuriku no Tenshi Light Novel Volume 1 - B4 (Part 1)

Satsuriku no Tenshi - Until Death Do Them Part - B4 (Part 1)

Story by Makoto Sanada, written by Chiren Kina, illustrations by Negiyan, translations by me.

If you want to help out with translations, feel free to contact me!

Prologue | B7 | B6 | B5 | B4 (Part 1 / Part 2) | B3 (Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4) | Zack’s Memory || Index

“This place…is kinda cold.”

“Yeah.”

Getting off the elevator, they’re greeted by a plaque engraved in the wall, reading B4, and cold air that fogs up with each breath. It’s as if they’ve arrived in a world of winter. Inhaling results in the intake of a chemically scent so strong as to make Ray’s head spin.

Inside the room is a pool that has been split into two by a narrow path. Looking into the bluish-green waters, Ray can see a dark shape at the bottom. It seems strangely human-like in shape.

(I wonder what that is.)

The girl stares into the water in concentration. But the pools are unexpectedly deep, and with the low visibility, she can’t make out what it is clearly. Leaning down close enough to see her face reflected back at her leads to the unpleasant scent becoming even stronger. She’s reluctant to investigate further.

“Hey, what’re ya lookin’ at?” Zack stares at her in puzzlement as she crouches down.

“There’s something in the water…”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Hah? Ya don’t know. Then I don’t either. Anyway…aren’t ya cold in that flimsy jacket?” Zack poses his question as he stares at her exposed legs. The temperature is probably about ten degrees Celsius. Ray’s clothing happens to consist of a white jacket atop her shirt, and a pair of black shorts.

“I am cold, but it’s all right.” Her answer comes out in a quiet mutter. Saying she isn’t cold would be a lie. And she really is cold. But simply saying she’s cold won’t magically conjure up any other clothes she can wear, so it’s really pointless overall.

“Huh. Well, starin’ at that whatever it is ain’t gonna help ya. C’mon.”

“Yeah. I can kind of smell dirt from beyond those doors…” Staring across the short bridge, she can see that there is a sign near the door there. It says “Second Cemetery”.

“Gonna check it out?” Zack begins walking along the bridge.

“Yeah.” Ray follows after him.

▲▽

(Are we really inside a building…?)

The Second Cemetery is revealed to be a spacious, wide room. The old-looking walls are made of brick, and the dirt beneath their feet is damp.

“…Graves…”

And there are several tombstones, engraved with someone’s names.

“Makes no damn sense either. Tch, what’s the point of makin’ all these graves?” Sounding utterly disgusted, Zack looks around the room.

I hate the smell of dirt.

Whenever he breathes in that scent, unpleasant memories of his childhood flit through his mind.

“Wanna try diggin’ any of ‘em up?” Trying to shake off those images, he attempts to make a little joke.

“I don’t care.” Ray, however, answers him coldly as she explores the room. Her only obligation is to get out of this building with Zack. Anything else, the man can do as he pleases.

(Tch…what a boring brat.)

Feeling his mood spoiled by the girl’s response, he follows her further into the room.

(It really is cold…)

Ray’s eyebrows pull together as she feels the chill flowing against her skin. As she walks among the graves, she sees something conspicuously large among them. Coming nearer to it, she realises that it is not a tombstone, but a monument.

(There’s something written on it…)

Upon the stone is yet another set of mysterious writing.

“Here lie the graves of those impure.

“The pitiful ones, neither wanted by God or the angels.

“Covered by soil, beneath the dirt, they wait for purification.”

(Angels…)

“An angel, or a sacrifice?”

Ray is reminded of those words. They don’t seem to have any sort of deep meaning despite their prevalent re-occurrence. But she still doesn’t understand what they are meant to represent.

A little ways past the monument is a large pit – perhaps a dug-up grave. Peering into the hole, Ray sees something quietly crouched at the bottom.

“…” She stares intently at it.

“D’ya wanna get in it that badly?” Zack asks coolly, watching her as she stares into the grave without even twitching.

“No…looks like I can’t,” Ray mumbles quietly as she shakes her head. The thing that looks as if it’s crouching is, in fact, the dead body of a man. It seems as if he had been killed very recently. “This grave already has someone in it.”

(Another dead body…)

“Aah, all these bodies are makin’ me sick! Don’t you look over here!” Zack irritably snaps. He approaches the grave and shows absolutely no mercy for the body inside as he begins to stomp on it. It becomes so messy that it’s impossible to think that man might have been alive only a few days ago. Zack’s demeanour as he kicks the corpse – as if to even some sort of grudge – is odd, even compared to before.

“Ah…” Ray quickly turns her gaze away. Even though it has become nothing more than a lump of flesh, waiting to rot, the girl feels as if it made eye contact with her for a moment.

That is when she notices a door labelled “storage room”. Coming closer to it, she suddenly feels the air grow much colder against her skin. It seems to be coming from this room.

▲▽

The room denoted as “storage room” is as dark and quiet as night – or perhaps it would be better to say that it makes Ray think of the afterlife. Stepping inside reveals the room to be unbelievably cold.

(It’s like we’re in a freezer…)

Ray rubs her arms over her jacket.

Further inside is a pool smelling of chemicals, like the one in front of the elevator. At the bottom are human-like shapes. Ray can’t see them clearly, but it’s likely they’re corpses. The walls here seem brittle and cracked, perhaps because of the humidity.

“The walls are all crumbly…”

“It’s all damp’n’worn-out…this ain’t a good place t’ be.” Zack loiters around the room as he mutters to himself.

Within the storage room is an enormous refrigerator. Upon seeing it, Zack recalls how Ray’s “wish” had caused him to vomit all the snacks he had eaten earlier.

(What is she doin’, askin’ someone t’ kill her all of a sudden…I don’t get it at all. And ‘cause of her, I’m hungry.)

“Aah…is there anything in there?”

Sighing loudly, he thoughtlessly opens the fridge – and immediately loses his appetite.

“Whoa. A body…”

What was in the fridge was not anything edible, but rather, something that would make him expel the contents of his stomach again – the grotesque sight of a dead man’s body. It’s so destroyed it looks like simply touching it might cause its legs, arms, and head to fall off. The body is covered with a thin vinyl, and upon it is some sort of note.

Watkin Beckett (36)

Place of death – B3

Cause of death – Blood loss due to bullet wound

※ He sustained terrible injuries, so exercise caution when handling the body

“Was this person also…a sacrifice?” Ray asks, glancing at the body in the fridge.

“How should I know?” Zack’s response is utterly devoid of interest. He doesn’t want to touch the corpse, and if possible he doesn’t want to look at it, either. And he hates the stench of rotting bodies most of all.

“It says ‘B3’…we’re on B4, so we still have a way to go.”

“Huh, that so.” Zack gives a hearty yawn, like a cat.

“Do you know a lot about this place?” the girl asks, staring up at his listless expression.

“Dunno. I just came here ‘cause I was told that I could kill whoever I wanted to. I guess the other guys are the same? I dunno the details.” Dimly, he thinks back upon when he had been invited to this place. But he can’t recall how many years ago that’s been – he’s forgotten.

“…I see.” Ray murmurs.

“Could kill whoever I wanted to.”

Those words seem to catch at something in her chest. At the same time, she asks another question, as if to shake off old memories.

“Where were you before you came here?”

“I can tell ya, but what d’ya wanna know for?”

“Nothing…I just felt like asking.”

“What? Anyway, shouldn’t you be the one tryin’ t’ remember what you were doin’? Even if we get outta here, I’m not gonna take ya home.”

(Home…?)

If this were an anime, an enormous question mark would appear above Ray’s head right about now.

“…You said you’d kill me after we got out of here.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Zack speaks like someone who has just remembered something they had forgotten.

“…Please don’t forget.”

“I’m not going to!” Zack irritably tears his gaze away from her. He doesn’t have the desire to kill this doll-like girl, even though he’s made that sort of promise with her. Frankly, all he can think about is getting out of this building alive.

(Well, when we get outta here, those dead eyes’ll prolly be back t’ normal.)

“I’m freezin’, so I’m gettin’ out of here!”

“…Okay.” The girl nods, her expression gloomy. Even though she’s made that promise with him, she has no positive proof that he’ll keep it. If he winds up not killing her…she can no longer see any reason to want to leave this place.

There’s an uncomfortable silence between them now as they leave the storage room. This time, they go down a hallway. There, they find a door with a signboard that states “First Cemetery”.

▲▽

Ray’s blue eyes immediately alight upon a glittering new tombstone.

She comes closer to it, walking across the damp earth and between the other gravestones.

“…”

The grave, which gleams unnaturally in this room completely devoid of any presence of life, has tiny letters neatly engraved in it.

“Huh? What is it? Somethin’ written there?”

“…A name.” With a closed-off expression, she gazes at the letters lovingly carved into the stone.

“It’s a gravestone, so that’s obvious. What’re ya so surprised about?” the man asks carelessly, peering into her paling face.

“…It’s my name. My name is on it.” Ray doesn’t take her eyes off the tombstone despite feeling his gaze upon her. Her voice is strained. This glistening new grave has “Rachel Gardner” emblazoned upon it.

“…That so,” Zack mutters. He can’t read that name. He doesn’t even know her name in the first place. So even if he would have been able to read, he wouldn’t have known it to be Ray’s name.

“Then, is this one mine?”

In front of Ray’s tombstone is what looks like an enormous boulder, one that might have been used for carving. It’s as if someone had simply abandoned it there. It was probably prepared in a hurry as soon as Zack had been called a sacrifice. Having lived in this building for a while, he quickly understands that it’s the work of the master of this floor.

“…Damnit, I’m not even dead yet and he’s makin’ me a grave. That pisses me off. I wanna smash it.”

Zack glowers at the boulder, an enormous contrast to Ray’s immaculately carved gravestone. His dirty palm squeezes around the scythe slung over his shoulder.

(…Stop makin’ such disgusting things, damnit.)

“Your scythe will be the one to break first.” Despite warning him in that calm voice, she continues to stare at her gleaming grave.

“Shut up, I know that. Stop starin’ at that thing like an idiot.”

“I’m not staring.”

“Hmph, whatever. Sorry, unlike you, I don’t wanna die.” Zack progresses further into the room as he speaks. When he does, he notices an enormous crack in the brick wall, perhaps because it was brittle.

“Hey, hey…just how beat up is this place?”

In response to his voice, the girl turns toward the man and rushes up to him, peering into the crack with him. It feels like it’s trying to invite her inside.

(I wonder where it leads to…what’s inside?)

“It looks pretty deep…”

“Is it all right if I go in?” Ray suggests, thinking that Zack probably wouldn’t be able to fit.

“Hah? D’ya think you’ll run away’n’get out of here by yerself?” Zack’s voice is threatening, as if he doesn’t trust her.

“I won’t run away. …You haven’t killed me yet.” The girl unflinchingly meets his gaze.

(Did that bastard Danny drug her or something…?)

Zack instinctively turns his gaze away.

Certainly, on his floor, Ray’s reactions had seemed a bit weak in comparison to other sacrifice’s – but she’d still shown him a girlish despair and fear. She hadn’t been so calm or assertive. And Zack feels strangely uneasy about her abrupt change.

“You were…seriously creepy right now…”

(Creepy?)

Ray’s head tilts slightly at Zack’s unexpected reaction. She hadn’t had any intention to make him think she was creepy.

“…Well, whatever. It’s not like we can just stand here’n’do nothing. Go on and get back here.” Zack’s speech is half-hearted. He doesn’t want to think, he just wants to find a way out of this building as fast as possible.

“Okay.”

“And if ya die on the way there, make sure to tell me.”

(…Die on the way…?)

“…If I’m dead, I can’t tell you.” Though she’d thought for a short period of time before responding, she does so with her usual composed expression.

“…”

“…”

In the silence, Zack abruptly comes to realise just how illogical his statement had been.

“…Th-then at least make yerself useful before ya die!”

Reddening slightly beneath his bandages in embarrassment, he lightly smacks Ray on the rear.

Useful…

“…All right.”

Staggering slightly from the impact, she looks up into Zack’s face and firmly nods her head. But she hesitates stepping into the crevice. She feels like she wants to stare at that gravestone – with her name upon it – for a little longer.

“Hey, go already! I don’t got a lot of patience.” Unable to bear seeing her in such a state, Zack urges her forward with an irritated tone of voice.

“Okay. Also, I want you to look for something, like a card,” she suddenly requests. On B7, B6, and B5, she had needed a card to get to the elevator.

“Yeah, all right.”

“…And.”

“Hah?! There’s something else?!”

“If you could…please don’t destroy my grave.”

As she asks this, her face seems just a little bit sorrowful.

She doesn’t know who made that grave. But, the truth that her grave exists somewhere in this world…eases her heart. And it seems to beat just a little faster.

Without waiting for a reply, she squeezes her delicate body into the gap in the wall.

“…Who cares.”

Left alone among the graves, Zack mumbles to himself.

▲▽

Ray proceeds through the cramped space.

It’s gloomy, like a cave, and she can barely see. Dirt trickles from the ceiling down in front of her; the sensation is almost choking. Ray moves forth, trying not to breathe in the stale air – and suddenly the path in front of her opens up into a small, cramped room. It almost looks like a secret base of some kind. A lightbulb above bathes the room in a warm orange glow that seems to cut through the unpleasant chill she feels.

(A room for building graves…?)

In the centre of the room is a large work desk. On top of it are various items carelessly left there, such as a catalogue for gravestones and papers with tombstone designs drawn on them.

(…What’s this?)

There’s some kind of blue notebook lying open on the table.

(There’s probably something written in that.)

There might be something about the building in that notebook… With that thought in mind, Ray peers at the page the book has been left open on. The childish handwriting reveals a strange message.

I learned about her for the first time today.

I was curious about her for a long time. But I never really knew about her!

I want to meet her, but he’s in the way. She has a really pretty voice!

She’s definitely, definitely a wonderful girl. I have no doubts about it!

After all, I fell in love with her at first sight.

Ah, this is bad…I have to make special preparations for her!

Something I made for her, a special place only for her – a place where she can eternally slumber.

She reads the odd note with a dubious expression.

(Someone’s diary…? …Whose room is this?)

There’s another door further in the room. Approaching it slowly, she places her hand upon the knob and turns it. But it won’t open.

(It’s locked…how do I open it?)

Her gaze alights on the scattered grave blueprints.

(…There might be some clues in here…)

Just as this thought comes to mind, she hears a terrible racket coming from the place Zack waits for her – the First Cemetery.

(…So loud. What is he doing?)

▲▽

Having been left alone in the graveyard, the creepiness of the room only seems to grow. He feels as if he’s been abandoned for a different world entirely.

“Damnit, even if I look around, there’s only graves in here.”

(And these graves are seriously annoying.)

Zack tch’s quietly to himself as he stares at the roughly hewn stone, likely the grave meant for himself.

(I wanna break it…)

However, even he knows that Ray is right – if he tries smashing it, his scythe’s blade will what breaks first.

(Isn’t there anything else in here?)

As he looks around, his gaze abruptly alights upon a pickaxe left leaning against one of the tombstones. It was probably left by whoever was digging up the earth.

(A pickaxe…)

Zack smirks and picks it up. Since it isn’t his own weapon, he has no qualms about breaking it.

(This damn gravestone…)

“I’m gonna smash it!”

Having decided this, he begins to laugh. It isn’t that he’s having fun. He’s simply disgusted that his grave would exist here.

(I’m not plannin’ on dyin’ yet!)

A loud clang echoes through the chamber as he strikes the grave with the pickaxe. But it doesn’t crumble.

(It’s hard…)

It won’t break from such a strike. The blade of the pickaxe is a bit chipped now.

“Hah – don’t be so tough when yer such a shitty piece of work!”

He wonders why. There are – emotions he’s never felt before welling up deep inside his heart. He never felt like this when he was just the master of his floor, chasing after sacrifices. His voice grows harsh as if to convey his hatred for the one who had made this grave, and he strikes it again and again with the axe.

It’s like a switch has been flicked. He won’t stop. He can’t even stop himself. He slashes at the tombstone that had been crafted for him over and over again.

And at some point, it becomes merely a rubble of rocks scattered about the floor.

But the actual breaking of it feels even better to him than he had expected.

Not even a minute has passed, and it’s already lost all form.

(I did it!)

But for some reason, he still feels irritated. Zack glances around the room, clicking his tongue. Everywhere he looks, he sees only graves – which should be obvious, given that this room is called a cemetery. Beneath the graves are, of course, bodies. That’s nothing that brings joy to him.

(That’s right…I’ll break all of ‘em…!)

It’s damn creepy to be makin’ these things anyway. It’s pointless for these things to exist. No matter how much you pray, they’re dead; people don’t come back to life. Corpses are gross. I know that!

“Hyahahahahah!”

He doesn’t have an ounce of hesitation. As he thinks this to himself, mad laughter rushes up from his throat.

(Aah…I’ll smash every single last one of ‘em!)

Zack’s eyes gleam from the slits of the bandages wrapped around his face.

Raising the pickaxe high, he begins to slash at gravestone after gravestone, releasing his pent-up frustration and anger, transforming each grave into nothing more than rough piles of stones.

(Oh, that’s right, there were a bunch of graves over there, too – )

After demolishing the last grave in the First Cemetery, he rushes to the Second Cemetery as quickly as he can. He won’t be able to calm down until he destroys every single thing he can possibly break.

(‘Cause graves are useless!)

“Hyahahah!”

Laughing uncontrollably, Zack stares at the gravestones lined up in front of him, and begins to hit them with all his strength. Reigned by his instincts like this, he neither needs to think about nor remember anything. The only thing he abides by is the strange elation filling him up.

And in just a few minutes, he’s mercilessly ruined each and every one of the gravestones.

At some point, there had been the sound of a switch flipping, or perhaps something breaking, but Zack had not paid it any bit of mind.

(Is this all of ‘em?)

Feeling somehow satisfied and slowly regaining his composure, the man briskly returns to the First Cemetery.

Somewhat taken aback, he gazes at the destruction he’s caused, before his eyes land upon the monument with Ray’s name engraved upon it. It looks so very different from the other graves that he had forgotten to smash it.

“If you could…please don’t destroy my grave.”

But he remembers that request. Zack feels his strength leave his body, as if a button has suddenly been pressed.

(…She asked me not to break it…)

He doesn’t care about what she wants –

But for some reason he can’t bring himself to go against her. He feels like he shouldn’t break that grave.

“…”

Dropping the pickaxe to the ground, he sprawls out in front of Ray’s grave, as if exhausted.

What d’ya need a grave like this for…

▲▽

As that unpleasant sound rings out over and over again, Ray stares down at the grave blueprints. There’s some sort of strange equation written in them. It’s as if it points to the location of something, though it doesn’t state precisely what that thing is.

(Maybe…there’s a switch to open the door beneath one of the graves?)

Putting together the numbers in the formula and recalling the arrangement of the graves in the room, Ray becomes certain that this is true. But the moment she comes to this conclusion, she hears a beeping sound from the door.

(…?!)

Turning toward it, she comes nearer to the door. She gently holds the knob, and though she hasn’t done anything, it’s unlocked.

(It was definitely locked earlier… Did he open it? How…?)

Feeling somewhat suspicious, she opens the door and proceeds through it. On the other side is a large room. Perhaps it’s a reference room of some kind; the walls are lined with shelves so full of books that there is not a single space between any of them.

Ray selects one of the books and pulls it out. Maybe it’s because it’s been a while since she’s read one, but she feels strangely happy to be touching the pages. She has always enjoyed reading, ever since she was little. The words move her heart, and she reads again and again to remember each and every word.

That book was like that, too… Those words had seemed to become a part of her very being.

That book, the book she read that night, had held the word of God.

(But, that book isn’t here…)

As she recalls the contents of that particular text, she skims through the one in her hand to confirm its subject matter. It seems to be some sort of religious tome.

(…It’s not the God I know…)

With a cold gaze, she returns the book to its shelf. She has no interest in a fake God.

(What’s that?)

She sees some sort of large folder on one of the lower shelves. She carefully picks it up and opens it. It seems to be composed of a large number of resumes or profiles. The first page is about Watkin Beckett, age 36.

(Watkin Beckett…)

Ray remembers this name. This is the name she had read on the rotten body in the fridge.

There is a picture of Beckett on the file. It’s an image of the man on a plain black and white background, smiling.

The next page has a picture of a man who looks similar to the one Ray had seen in the open grave.

(Is this a list of people who have come here…?)

Thinking to herself, she turns through the pages with her ghostly pale hand that looks as if it knows no defilement. And finally stops at a particular page, heart jerking in her chest as her eyes go wide. There is something about her written here as well.

Rachel Gardner.

There is, of course, a picture of herself. She has a vague recollection that this is a picture Danny took of her when she first came in for counselling.

(…Oh…)

For a moment, Ray reads the profile as if it were written about someone else. When she had laid on that operating table, she had finally known about herself and her past better than anyone else. But she still can’t remember why she had come to this building.

(…Why was I taken here…?)

She sighs a little.

But it might be better that I can’t remember…it probably would have been better to not remember any of this…

Feeling rather despondent, she turns another page. At the final one, her hand comes to an involuntary stop.

(Is this…him…?)

Her gaze falls upon what is unmistakably a picture of Zack.

(He killed people at the institution he lived in? Then he was involved in other murders…and I guess he was killing people in here, too…)

Right now, he’s on the run…but I wonder how many he’s killed…?

She unconsciously reads the words on the resume one more time. It’s not that she wants to know about Zack’s past. She simply has an instinctual feeling that she must know about him.

“It seems he is extremely responsive to human emotion.”

(…Human emotion…)

“Don’t run around all happy like. …Whenever I see someone lookin’ too happy, I…just get the urge to kill ‘em.”

Those words surface within Ray’s mind.

(I…don’t look happy. I guess that’s why Zack can’t bring himself to kill me…)

Feeling rather melancholic, she closes the folder. And at that moment, a soft voice makes its way to her ears.

…Hey, I know your wish. That’s why I’m going to see you so I can grant it for you.

It’s an unsettling voice, accompanied by childish laughter.

“…Is someone here…?”

Ray looks around questioningly, trying to dispel her fear. But there’s no one there, and no one answers her.

(…A ghost?)

No. Feeling a bit frightened of such an unknown existence, she moves in the direction of the voice…further into the room. It continues on into a passageway that abruptly ends. For some reason, there appears to be some sort of circular indentation in the ground.

(What is this…?)

She steps into the cavity, but nothing happens.

Is there…some other mechanism?

(Anyway, I’ll take those profiles and go back for now.)

Turning back, she takes the files about herself and Zack and makes her way back to the First Cemetery.

▲▽

(…They’re all broken.)

The cemetery is quiet, and doesn’t look at all like it had previously.

“Um…”

Dubiously, she steps in front of her grave and peers down into Zack’s face. He lays upon the ground as if sulking.

“Ah? What are ya doin’?! Yer slow!” In reaction to her voice, the man stands up.

“…That’s what I want to say,” Ray mutters as she stares at the graves brought to ruin. But it’s easy for her to understand that he must have done this because she’d asked him to wait, and he’d lost patience.

But…he didn’t break mine.

(Did he leave it because I asked?)

“So, what did ya find?” Zack asks her, completely nonchalant about the state of the room.

“Um, I found some sort of reference room with a bunch of resumes.”

“Hah? Re-su-me?”

(What’s a resume…?)

“Yes. See, Rachel Gardner…this is a paper with things written about me.” She speaks disinterestedly – this is how she tells Zack her name for the first time – and holds out the paper to him.

(Ra…chel Gardner…?)

But he can’t remember that name. And even if he looks at that profile, he can’t read it.

(I can’t read this…)

The only thing he’s aware of is Ray’s picture. And the Ray in the picture just looks like a beautiful girl to him, a girl completely free of troubles. It looks like she has no reason to want to die.

“I dunno what this is, whether it’s a re-su-me or whatever the hell, but I can’t read it.” Zack speaks without hesitation. Even if he holds something with writing in his hand, he can’t make heads or tails of it. Every single thing just seems annoying and pointless.

“Right…”

(He can’t read…)

That makes Ray feel a little strange. Never before has she met an adult who can’t read. So she’s a little curious as to how he sees letters. Do they look like pictures to him?

“So you don’t need that?” she asks, recalling what was written on her profile.

“No, can’t do anything with it, anyway… And all it does is tell us stuff about you.” Zack’s words sound like a declaration as he drops the piece of paper to the ground.

“Yeah…”

(All it does…)

For some reason, those words stir Ray’s heart.

“So, what’s that one about?” Zack jerks his chin at the other paper Ray holds.

“This one…says something…about someone named Isaac. …Is that you?” Holding out the paper, the girl stares straight at him.

“…Yeah, that’s right. Isaac Foster is me.” Scowling slightly at her, Zack’s expression seems to become slightly more mature.

“So, what did ya think after readin’ that?”

(What did I think…?)

For an instant, she can’t answer.

What did I think? His past…doesn’t concern me. After all, I just want him to kill me…

After they get out, she’ll be able to get Zack to kill her. To Ray, that promise is everything.

“…Nothing. This is just a paper about you. Nothing more than that.” Ray answers coldly, staring at the profile.

Perhaps she had used Zack’s words on purpose, or perhaps she had simply unconsciously taken a liking to how he had put it.

But Zack strangely dislikes Ray’s wooden manner of speaking.

(‘Cause she didn’t think at all, just said what sounded right, yeah…?)

“Yer not scared of me?” Zack’s words are deliberately calm.

“…Scared? No, I’m not,” the girl replies to him nonchalantly. After remembering everything, she no longer feels frightened. It’s scarier to be alive right now.

“Huuuh…” With a keen gaze, Zack stares into her blue eyes. He has no idea what she’s thinking.

Not scared, huh…

“Oh, come to think of it, I once knew a woman who said the same stuff as you…” His hand tightens around his scythe. And, as if he’s overlapped Ray with that woman in his mind, he begins to tell her of a memory he doesn’t particularly want to recall.

▲▽

…I wonder how many years ago that was.

“You’re Isaac Foster? I’ve been a huge fan ever since I saw you in the news!”

The moment that woman saw my face, her eyes began to shine. It was the first time anyone had ever said anything like that to me.

“Ah…? A fan?”

I’d thought about killing her as soon as I caught her…but I guess I let my guard down a little.

“Yes! So, I’m not scared of you.” She smiled as she spoke.

Her confident attitude intrigued me, so I gave her five seconds to run instead of three. Her face grew pale and she began to struggle violently.

(Ah…what should I do…)

Should I let her go…?

For a moment, I thought of something stupid like that. So, to test her, I said –

“Yer my fan, right? Stop strugglin’ if yer not afraid.”

And –

“Are you stupid?! I’m not your fan! I just said that because I didn’t want you to kill me! You monster!”

She started to scream –

▲▽

“I…hate liars. So, I killed her.”

Zack speaks coldly, as if he can remember that moment vividly. He doesn’t know why, but the memories he wants to forget never seem to fade.

Nevertheless, he’s both disgusted and surprised with himself that he would start talking about such a thing simply out of a singleminded desire to scare Ray.

(I hate liars…)

“…Does that story have anything to do with how I can make you kill me?” After thinking a moment, Ray asks him this with an utterly straight face.

“…Ah?”

“If I take those steps, will you kill me? Oh, maybe I should be a fan of yours, too?”

(He gave me three seconds that time…)

“Hah…? What are ya talkin’ about?” Zack stares at her, open-mouthed, disappointed by her half-insane trail of thought. He’d made that promise with her, but he’s never met someone who would say such a silly thing when they might be in danger of being killed.

“…Am I wrong?” Ray’s eyebrows furrow together. She has absolutely no self-awareness that what she said was strange.

…Ah, that’s right…she wants me to kill her!

(Why did I tell her all that…)

I want you to kill me – as he remembers that completely ungirlish request, this whole debacle suddenly seems ridiculous to him. And trying to make someone who wants to die be afraid of him was his first mistake.

“…Whatever. Anyway, why aren’t ya scared of me?” he asks her somewhat exasperatedly. He regrets telling her that stupid old story.

“I don’t know anything about you.”

“Hah? You don’t know…ya read that thing, didn’t ya?”

“I did. But, I just met you, so…I don’t know much about you yet.”

Now that she says it, that’s true. It feels kinda weird ‘cause of that strange promise, but it’s true. We’ve only just met.

Despite her monotonous words, Zack finds himself agreeing with her.

“…That so. Then, was there anything else?” Feeling somehow defeated, he weakens his grip on his scythe as he asks his next question in an attempt to change the subject.

“Um, I heard a voice.”

“A voice?”

“Yes, a boy’s. He said he knew my wish…” She still clearly remembers that voice.

“Hah?! That’s creepy!”

“Yeah. But I didn’t see him. Also, I found a dead end. There was some kind of hollow in the floor. It must be a part of some sort of mechanism…”

Though Zack seems strangely surprised, Ray completely forgets to tell him that the voice had said he wanted to meet her to grant the wish, and continues on with her report.

“What kinda mechanism?”

“Probably a door will open somewhere. Since there’s nowhere else we can go.”

Nothing had happened when she had stepped in that indentation in the hallway. So Ray has come to the conclusion that there must be an additional one somewhere, and that the two work in unison.

“Yeah, probably.”

“Yeah. So I want to go look for it.”

She has a bit of a hunch. In front of the elevator, in that pool…she feels like that hadn’t been a dead body. Thinking carefully, nothing had been suspended in the water, so those shapes could not have been human.

“Aah, I get it. But first, I gotta do something.” Zack stares directly in front of him as he speaks. He sounds annoyed.

“What…?”

Zack is staring at Ray’s grave. She has a bad feeling. She has an uncomfortable idea of what he wants to do.

“This grave…” Mumbling to himself, Zack approaches the tombstone with Ray’s name. And, staring fixatedly at the grotesquely gleaming gravestone, he retrieves the pickaxe he’s discarded to the floor. Ray has the feeling her misgivings were correct.

“This grave pisses me off so much that I gotta destroy it…!” With a bold grin, he swings the pickaxe toward that glittering tombstone with all his might.

“…Wait!” Ray lets out a small cry that she isn’t even consciously aware of. But Zack can’t stop himself. He simply thinks of the person who had made that grave as he mercilessly crushes it into smithereens.

“…”

Ray stares at the tombstone dumbfoundedly. She’s unbelievably sad. She feels as if the place she belongs in has been razed from this world.

“Hey, yer grave ain’t here. Ya only get t’ die after I get out of here.” Zack declares this, seeing her look so despondent.

Ray twitches slightly, widening her eyes.

“…Yeah.” And, looking up at him, Ray nods, though somewhat dispirited.

Will Zack…really kill me…?

She still can’t truly believe those words. Zack might simply want to get out of here. But…when Zack had said he hated liars, his eyes had been frighteningly earnest.

(I want him to kill me already…)

She thinks that often. Maybe when she had first encountered Zack, she shouldn’t have run – then he would have just killed her. In her frozen heart, Ray thinks about that for a little bit.

▲▽

Shortly after, Ray leads Zack to the elevator with heavy footsteps. She has to ascertain whether or not that thing at the bottom of the pool is a part of the mechanism. The man, for his part, looks pleased.

Rushing to the water, Ray peers into the pool. As she expected, there’s a large switch of a similar type as in that hallway.

“Hey.”

“What?”

“Um, I’m not sure if that’s the mechanism, but I want you to go over there and stand on that switch.” Ray points at the switch in the pool.

“Ah?! Go in the water? Me?!” Zack’s eyebrows lift. Even if this wasn’t such a cold floor, he still wouldn’t want to get into that water. It smells gross, like chemicals.

“…If you don’t want to, you don’t need to.” Ray’s arm drops as she looks at Zack’s clearly unsettled expression.

“Hey, I didn’t say I didn’t want to!”

“But your face says you don’t want to.”

“Aah?! There’s nothin’ wrong with me makin’ a face like that! Just t’ let ya know, I ain’t plannin’ on dyin’ here, unlike you.”

“Then, I want us to cooperate…”

“Yeah, I get it, even if ya don’t tell me. I just gotta get in, right, right?!” Swearing angrily to himself, the man gets into the pool and wades to the area she’d pointed out to him. What he’s looking for is probably a metre in. The entire lower half of his body is submerged in water.

“Damnit, this pisses me off…’n it’s cold…” It’s even colder than he had expected; if he stays in there too long, he feels like his body might start to freeze over.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m not, but that doesn’t matter! I just gotta get on this, yeah?!” Mumbling complaints, he steps upon the swtich. It makes a small, pleasant noise.

“Yeah.”

As she nods deeply, she notices a small memo pad at her feet, as if someone had dropped it there.

(…What is this?)

She slowly picks it up. It feels as if someone had been touching it recently; it’s ever so slightly damp with water.

I’ll lend you a hand.

If you want to suffer, I’ll make you suffer. If you want it to be peaceful, I’ll be nice. I’ll let you choose what you want.

Tell me, how do you want to die?

The writing is childish, just like in the note she had read earlier. She doesn’t know who wrote it. But she’s certain that it is addressed to her.

(That notebook, too…)

A place where she can eternally slumber.

Recalling the note, she ponders a bit. Since the person isn’t Zack, she might be able to get them to kill her right away… Her heart stirs.

“Hey, what are ya doin’?”

For some reason, Zack stands straight in the cold water, staring directly at her.

“I found a note…it says ‘I can kill you’.” Despite her inexpressiveness, her face trembles slightly with the thought of someone else killing her. Zack’s face twitches in annoyance.

“Ah? Kill you?” For some reason, blood rushes to his head.

Don’t underestimate me.

“Give me that.” Stepping off from the switch, Zack approaches the side of the pool and forcibly yanks the paper from her hands. Then he tears it up into small pieces, dropping them in the water.

“Listen here. Don’t ya go thinkin’ about gettin’ someone else t’ kill ya! You’ll piss me off if I won’t be able to get out of here.”

“Right…but will you really be able to kill me? Since I’m boring…” Ray’s voice is so soft it seems like it might completely vanish. She’s concerned that he won’t kill her when they get out. She wants to disappear from this unhappy world as soon as possible.

But Zack is simply fed up by her trying words.

“If ya want t’ die, why don’t ya just kill yerself…?”

For some reason, the thought that she could be killed by someone else irritates him. But when he looks into her eyes, like a still lake – any desire to kill melts away.

“…Because suicide isn’t allowed.” After a long silence, Ray finally speaks, her words like scatters of rainfall.

“Aah? Why’s that?”

“….God…because God said so.” Ray’s eyes grow distant. She recalls the book she had read that moonlit night. But Zack ridicules her serious words.

“Heh…God, huh. Then put some effort into makin’ me want t’ kill ya.”

(Effort…?)

Ray can’t think of anything. After all, to this man, killing someone must be as easy as eating a piece of candy. That was how he had killed Doctor Danny. He’d cut through his body without an ounce of hesitation. But when Ray asks him to kill her, he won’t. And she can’t understand why that is.

“What should I…?”

“Huh? Be useful. And if ya want me t’ kill ya, stop makin’ that boring face. If you’re a human…you can get angry, and cry, and stuff like that, right?”

“Get angry, or cry…?” He probably doesn’t like expressionless faces. Thinking this, she tries to make some sort of face. And though she childishly tries to do so, her eyes remain utterly dead.

“Do ya even got face muscles…? Maybe yer already dead, or a ghost or somethin’.” Zack seems to come to a similar conclusion. Though a ghost likely wouldn’t wish someone to kill them.

(A ghost…)

Ray’s eyebrows lower slightly. It’s rather irritating for him to call her a ghost.

“…I’m alive, that’s why I want you to kill me.”

“Argh, I get it. C’mon, try smiling.” Despite her dark expression, the man continues to lightly give her orders.

(Smile.)

Perhaps that’s proof that she’s alive.

“…How is this?” The corners of her lips pull up in a faint curve. She tries with all her might to smile. But as Zack had pointed out, it seems like her facial muscles simply don’t respond.

“Yer eyes are totally dead.” From Zack’s point of view, that was by no means a smile.

“I see…so it’s no good,” Ray mumbles, feeling discouraged. But that emotion also doesn’t reach Zack’s ears.

(…I don’t even know if she’s even alive.)

“But…I’m not a ghost,” Ray continues, as if she had read Zack’s mind. She thinks she won’t be afraid no matter how scary a person she sees. But she absolutely can’t accept that she’s a ghost. She feels so uncomfortable at the thought that Zack might see her as one that she unthinkingly rejects it.

“Hah? What, I know that! Ghosts don’t exist, idiot!”

“Eh…? They don’t?” Ray looks utterly surprised. She recalls a horror program she had watched one night when she couldn’t sleep, in a pitch-black room. Even if it had only been a fake ghost – after seeing it, she’d been so unnerved at seeing the strange spirit on the screen that she had thought they might truly exist. Sometimes, it frightened her to the point she couldn’t sleep. She truly doesn’t like ghosts.

“‘Course they don’t! Yer weird, that’s why I called ya a ghost! If they really existed, they’d prolly be around here somewhere.” Zack is strangely serious in response to her speculative questions about ghosts.

(Oh…)

Certainly, it wouldn’t be odd for them to be in a building like this. But, since she hasn’t seen any, it might really be as Zack says…they might not exist…

(Does she seriously believe in ghosts…?)

“Anyway, how old are ya?” Zack asks, abruptly curious. He can tell she’s younger than him just by looking at her…but she’s smart, believes in ghosts, and wants to die – he has no idea exactly how old she is.

“I’m 13…” She answers honestly. There’s no particular need to lie. And Zack had said that he hates liars.

(13, huh. Still a brat.)

“And you are?”

“Ah? I’m an adult,” he replies. He likes saying that – it’s cooler to say he’s an adult than to say he’s 20.

“…An adult?”

(Maybe 20?)

At only 13, being 20 years old seems quite a bit older than her. But the Zack in front of her doesn’t feel older. Perhaps the only thing that makes him seem older is the fact that he’s taller than her.

“Ah, but that doesn’t matter. Do something with that mechanism or whatever it is and get back here.”

(We just wasted time on dumb crap…)

He can’t just stay in this water forever. He’s getting a little irritated at the cold.

“Yeah. I’ll go check out the floor in the crack.”

Zack had been the one to ask about her age first…so, feeling somewhat gloomy, she turns toward the door. They can’t afford to prolong their conversation.

“And hurry it up!”

“Okay.” Nodding, Ray leaves.

As she walks back to the First Cemetery, her heart whirls a little as she recalls the words on the memo – I can kill you.

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Satsuriku no Tenshi Light Novel Volume 1 - B5

Satsuriku no Tenshi - Until Death Do Them Part - B5

Story by Makoto Sanada, written by Chiren Kina, illustrations by Negiyan, translations by me.

If you want to help out with translations, feel free to contact me!

Prologue | B7 | B6 | B5 | B4 (Part 1 / Part 2) | B3 (Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4) | Zack’s Memory || Index

With a terrible vertigo, Ray gets off the elevator. As she takes deep breaths to calm herself, she’s suddenly aware of the strong scent of antiseptic.

(Is this a hospital…?)

Her blurry vision slowly returns to normal, revealing that the current floor is utterly unlike the floor she had been on previously. It’s like an extremely clean hospital, and reminds her of the floor she had woken up on. But the atmosphere is different. That floor didn’t give her even the slightest impression of vitality. This floor feels as if someone was just recently hard at work here – it feels alive. Taking a single glance at the ground, she can see that every single tile shines brightly from having been freshly polished – someone has obviously recently been cleaning.

But, because the light isn’t on, it’s very dark.

The single source of light she can see is at what appears to be the reception desk, where a large computer gives off a pale, cold light.

As if drawn in toward that light, Ray briskly walks toward the desk.

Behind it are numerous tall glass shelves, filled with various medications arranged in a peculiarly tidy manner. Small lightbulbs shine upon them from within the shelves, almost as if they had been placed there for display purposes. The medicine bottles shimmer beneath the light.

On the computer screen is a slideshow of eyeballs scrolling past, one after another.

(I feel sick…)

There is a small analogue clock near the computer. Ray has no way of telling whether it is day or night, but the time has stopped near eight o’clock.

(So I guess it’s eight…)

An image of a clock surfaces within the girl’s mind. But it isn’t the clock she sees right in front of her right now – it’s a wall-mounted clock with a cute little bird motif.

(Is that the clock in my room…?)

That’s the feeling I get, but I can’t remember…

And for some reason, when she tries to remember – she feels afraid.

(Anyway, I have to find a way to get out of here, before that thing finds me…)

She’s certain that if he finds her again, he’ll kill her. She completely lacks the confidence that she’ll be able to escape should he chase her again.

(I wonder if I can find a map or something of this place…)

Gulping, Ray begins opening various drawers.

However, she’s unable to find anything that might tell her about the building. Instead, she finds various patient charts, likely containing information about the patients’ data and symptoms. Unfortunately, the handwriting is no better than chicken scratchings, and Ray is unable to read them.

(Looks like there’s nothing here, then…)

Feeling rather disappointed, Ray leaves the reception area –

And that’s when she sees someone tall leaving one of the examination rooms, heading straight for her.

(…!)

She doesn’t know who that is. But she instinctively feels that she must run away. Alas, the moment she begins to flee, that mysterious person grabs her dainty arm and calls out to her.

“Wait, Rachel! It’s me.”

The slightly urgent tug on her arm prompts Ray to turn toward him, even as she forcibly tries to pull her arm away.

(He said my name…?)

“Rachel, have you forgotten me?”

“…Eh?” Ray’s eyes widen a little. Unlike that man from before, this one has a gentle face.

“Listen…I’m the one who examined you. Don’t you remember?”

(…Examined?)

“I’m your counsellour!”

In that moment, the sound of a bell resonates in Ray’s ears. It’s certainly the same sound she heard when she first opened her eyes.

“You’re…the doctor who examined me���?”

“Yes, that’s right. I’m your physician, Doctor Danny.”

(Doctor…Danny…)

That name sounds familiar. And, dimly, she can remember some kind of counselling session.

That’s right…the doctor that always looked over me in that counselling room…wore a white lab coat…and had glasses…

The man in the faint memories called back to her looks quite similar to the man standing in front of her right now.

“…Doctor Danny…my counsellour…”

Ray repeats those words as if to revive more of her memories. However, despite the fact that she’s able to recall the appearance of the counselling room, she’s unable to clearly remember the face of the psychiatrist who had examined her.

…But…I’m sure that it was Doctor Danny.

“Rachel, you seem a bit scared. Well, I suppose that’s to be expected…this place is quite scary, after all. But relax. I’m most certainly your doctor. …Right?”

As if to calm her, Danny smiles gently at her.

(…I feel as if during our sessions, he would always smile at me like this, too…)

“…Okay, doctor.”

As she faintly remembers that smiling face, for an instant, Ray feels as her strength is about to leave her – and she finally looks at Danny with the same empty eyes she had had when she had awoken.

“Ah, you’ve remembered me. And…it’s good you’re all right. You’re smart, though, so I figured you would make it this far.” Danny sinks into silence. His expression morphs into one of severe brooding as he stares into her tranquil blue eyes.

“…Doctor, why are you here?” Ray finds his expression somewhat suspicious, and can’t help but pose this question.

“I…before I realised it, I found myself here. I can’t find the exit, you see, and I’ve been here for quite a while…but there’s no one else here on this floor except for me anymore.”

Danny answers her after what seems to be a bit of thought.

(No one else…)

Thinking back on it, there had been no one on B7, either – and B6 had only housed that grim reaper-like man.

“You know, doctor, I’m really scared…I was even chased by something earlier, too… What is this place…?” Ray asks, her small shoulders shaking. That insane laughter still reverberates through her ears. It had sounded like something out of some terrifying movie.

“Rachel, the one who was chasing you was most likely…a serial killer. This place is kind of scary, you see – it seems to be some kind of game for them. The murderers give chase, and kill whoever they manage to catch… I’ve heard the ones being chased are called sacrifices.”

“…Sacrifices?” Ray recalls the broadcast she had heard in the elevator when she had been going up to B6. Though she hadn’t heard it properly, she feels like she had heard that word.

“I don’t really know the details, either. Anyway – let’s go. If possible, I’d like to survive this place with you.” Danny takes the girl’s slightly cold hand and smiles gently at her.

“Yeah…”

(Is doctor a sacrifice…too?)

An angel, or a sacrifice?

Those words, that had seemed like magic, surface in Ray’s mind as she gazes at the doctor’s somehow nostalgic smile.

▲▽

After that, the two of them walk in a silence so deep and profound, they might as well be beneath the sea.

Danny walks briskly and surely, like he knows this place by heart – even though neither of them can see the end of the hallway. There is not the slightest bit of hesitation in the man’s actions.

“Doctor, have you been trapped here for a long time?” Ray asks, looking up at Danny’s face. Truthfully, the man is so calm that the word trapped seems to be inaccurate, and she feels rather uncomfortable in his presence.

“I guess you could say that… Rachel, are you worried you won’t be able to leave?”

“I think I’ll be all right if I’m with you…” Ray says this a bit breathlessly. Though, truthfully, she doesn’t feel that way – she merely has the unconscious feeling that this is what she must say.

“That’s true. Even if we aren’t able to get out, so long as we leisurely spend time together like this, something good might happen. Something good for you, as well as for me. Ah, I’m truly happy that you came, Rachel.” Danny glances toward her as if an idea has suddenly occurred to him.

“…? Yeah…”

(Was he…always like this?)

She tries to remember her counselling sessions with him. But she can’t recall even a fragment of what she had talked to the doctor about or why she had come to him for counselling.

After a while of walking down that dark hallway, the two of them come to an enormous pane of glass blocking the rest of the way.

“…A dead end,” Ray murmurs with a sigh. Framed behind the glass, she can see the hallway continue on; it’s like looking at an exceptionally strange painting.

“Yes…we can’t go any farther. Since this glass is very sturdy.” With a slightly troubled expression, Danny knocks on the glass a couple times.

“I see…”

(…Because, he’s been locked up for a long time, right?)

And as that thought surfaces in Ray’s mind –

“It seems that the two of us are locked up here together, huh?” Danny says pleasantly, gazing through the glass.

“…Eh?”

It could be a joke to relieve the strain on Ray’s mind. But that statement seems far too unnatural.

Because, just a while ago, he said he wants to leave this place with me…

“…Come, Rachel. I’ll take you to that room. The door is unlocked.” Turning his gaze away from Ray, whose brows are furrowed in consternation, he points toward a door they had passed when they had been walking earlier.

▲▽

“A special patient once stayed here.”

In the room is a single pure white bed, its frame composed of stainless steel. The bed is surrounded by a tall enclosure. While it appears clean and tidy, there is a scent in the air that reminds Ray of blood. The two IVs arranged near the bed still have some sort of liquid inside them.

(This is…?)

Near the pillow is an emergency button. However, as the girl looks closer, she notices that the button has already been pressed. Not only that, it even has a small crack in the centre.

“Have you met this patient, doctor?” Ray asks, staring at that strange crack.

“Yes. But she died shortly after I arrived here.”

“Why?”

“An illness.”

“She wasn’t being treated?”

“I…am a psychiatrist. I can do nothing but give my support to those whose minds are ill.”

(A sick mind…?)

Was my mind sick…?

Surely it must be something like that – though she cannot remember what occurred before she came to the hospital. That’s why, in this moment, Rachel can only think of herself as a completely normal girl.

“…Doctor, what did I come to you for counselling for?”

“You really can’t remember, Rachel?” The doctor stares intently at her eyes, as if he’s been torn from something desperately important to him.

“…No.”

“I see. Then I’ll have to remind you immediately… More importantly, take a look at this. Try to read it.” Looking a bit eager now, Danny points toward the writing on the wall.

“Do you know your own wish?

“Do you have something you desire?

“If that is your instinct, then fighting against it is meaningless.

“For if it were not, you would not be here.

“Every wish has a price.

“Do not break the rules.”

“Do these mean anything…?” Ray recalls the other words she read on the lower floors. They were all like this – written in white chalk.

“Yes, probably. I only noticed this recently, but there must be some rules for this place. After all, that killer didn’t follow you here.”

(…Rules…)

A flash of realisation overcomes Ray as she thinks. Certainly, the door for the elevator to B5 is now open. So if that man was still chasing her…surely he would have already caught up to her by now. But it seems as if he has no intention of pursuing her.

(Is that because that’s one of the rules…?)

“Then, what about the ‘wish’?” Ray asks as she thinks.

“Who knows? I guess everyone has their own. But…yeah. I…want pretty eyes. My right eye is bad… I don’t like the colour, either. If I had eyes like yours…I’d be overjoyed.” Danny’s answer comes quietly, as he looks down at her pretty face, yet with some vestiges of immaturity.

(He doesn’t like the colour…?)

As Ray looks up at Danny’s right eye, she sees that it certainly doesn’t seem to shine very brightly; however, it still looks like a normal eye to her.

I wonder what he means when he says he wants pretty eyes…

As suspicion begins to cloud her mind, she notices a small window out of the corner of her eye. Seized by some strange sense of anxiety, the girl runs to the window. There’s no light. No matter how hard she looks, she can’t get any sense of depth of what lies outside; in fact, she can’t see anything at all. All she can see are several scratch marks, as if someone has torn at the material with their nails with all their strength.

“Rachel, do you know what these marks are?” Softly coming closer to her, Danny begins to trace the markings with his finger.

Ray shakes her head slightly.

“…I’ll give you a hint. A patient made these marks. …Now, do you understand what they mean?”

(What they…mean?)

“…No.” Her reply is quiet. No matter how much she thinks, she can’t come up with an answer.

Seeing her puzzled expression, the doctor looks somehow satisfied. It’s almost as if he’s pleased that she doesn’t know the answer.

“Then that’s fine. You don’t need to know the meaning of these marks.” He smiles with his usual, soft smile.

“Do you know the answer, doctor…?” Ray asks quietly. His manner of speaking implies that he does.

“No, and I don’t want to. More importantly, let’s go find the exit.” As if dodging her question, the man simply produces a beaming smile, and grips Ray’s hand as if to lead her away.

(…Ah.)

However, in that moment, Ray’s eyes land on another set of markings on the wall – they look like words.

“Doctor, I have the feeling there’s something written over there.”

Shaking his hand off, the girl runs to the other wall.

“…lp…help me…     I’m sca…

“There…three… …I’m…only one he…

“…’re coming...kill m…   …only…one…”

Most of it is covered in dust, so Ray can’t read it completely. She lifts a hand to begin wiping the dust off.

But in that instant –

“Stop! You’ll get dirt in your eye!”

Until now, he’s been so calm and gentle – but now his expression has completely changed as he shouts those words. Grabbing her arm roughly, he tears her away from the wall.

(…?!)

Doctor, that hurts.

Despite wanting to say that, Ray keeps her mouth shut. Somehow, it doesn’t feel as if she can say that right now. Danny’s facial expression is wildly different from earlier – until now, he’s been able to seem completely normal.

“Rachel, take care of your eyes. Because they’re so beautiful that I can’t help but want them.”

He speaks as if scolding her, gazing at her blue eyes as if they might be unpolished raw gems. Her eyes are reflected in his own.

“But, there’s something written…” She speaks hesitantly, unnerved by his insistent speech, as she glances at the wall once again.

“It’s surely just the patient’s boring whining. Just a regular person’s complaining.”

“You can read it, doctor…?”

“No, one of my eyes isn’t good…but it’s definitely something useless. Now, Rachel, your eyes must be a bit worn out now. How about you take an afternoon nap in my room?”

“A nap, now?” she asks quietly, confused by his usage of the words afternoon nap.

“…You’re right! That was silly of me. You’re so smart, Rachel!” Once again, he smiles sweetly, evading her question.

“…Is it noon?” Feeling somewhat distrustful of his attitude, Ray asks once again.

“Hmm, if you think it’s noon, then it must be noon.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have no idea. I’ve been here for so long that I can’t tell what time it is. Come along, Rachel, let’s go to my room.”

▲▽

Danny pulls Ray down the hallway somewhat forcibly. Tugging her down a bend in the corridor, he makes his way to a room at the very end of the hall.

“I found this key shortly after I arrived here.” And, taking a small cardkey from his lab coat, he opens the door.

(It looks like that other card…)

Ray is immediately reminded of the card she picked up after she buried the bird. It had opened the door for the hallway that lead to the elevator.

I wonder if his key could open the special patient’s room, too…

“Is this an operating room…?” Whilst thinking, the girl looks around the room from where she stands in the doorway. It looks precisely like an operating room. Against the walls are cold, stainless steel shelves, upon which are numerous sorts of tools and utensils. When Ray concentrates her gaze, it looks as if the tools are smeared in some sticky, dark substance, like blood.

(I thought this place wasn’t used anymore…)

Grimacing slightly, Ray steps into the room.

“I always spent my time here.”

Danny smiles as he scratches the pale green surgical table. It looks as if someone has left marks on it.

“…I’m a little scared.” It’s an instinctive feeling, borne of the terrible stench that assails her nose as she looks around the room.

“Are you? There’s no need, Rachel. This is just a normal room. More importantly…would you let me look at your eyes, Rachel?” Smiling as he approaches the trembling girl, Danny grasps her by the chin and tilts her head up. And then he speaks, earnestly, as if reciting poetry –

“Oh, Rachel, your eyes truly are beautiful…but they’re so full of fear… Almost like normal eyes… I’m so sad. I want to see your real, lovely eyes… I wonder if they’ll return to that exquisite stillness, like that blue moon, once you wake up from this nightmare…?”

(Nightmare…? Normal eyes…?)

Ray doesn’t really understand what Danny is talking about.

“Listen, Rachel…I’ve always wanted to live with those eyes of yours.” Danny’s expression almost looks as if he’s about to burst into tears as he gently traces the flesh around the girl’s eyes.

“Doctor…?”

(Why is he sad that my eyes are “normal”…?)

She doesn’t understand… And I feel like he’s acting differently than before…

She’s suddenly bombarded by a thick, oppressive unease. Instinctively, she takes several steps away from the man.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve always been alone, so I’ve picked up this habit of talking to myself. It’s strange, I know.” Speaking rather offhandedly, he picks up a cup from among the various tools and splashes in some pure black coffee from the coffee maker. He takes a sip before he speaks again, his ring finger tracing his lips contemplatively. “Speaking of which…it seems I’ve forgotten something in the back room.”

“You forgot something…?” The girl stares blankly at the man’s retreating figure, unsure of what to make of his sudden statement.

“But it’s really dark in there…and my eye isn’t good, so I’m sure I won’t be able to find it… Do you think you could get it for me, Rachel?”

“What is it…?”

“You don’t remember?” He smiles softly.

“…I don’t.” Ray shakes her head.

“I see…I’ll give you a hint.”

“My eye is alexandrite.”

With his gaze downcast, the man recites those words as if they might be a spell, playfully holding his index finger against his mouth.

▲▽

(What did he forget…?)

He said something about alexandrite…is he talking about a jewel?

Encroached by a growing anxiety thanks to the ineffectual hint, Ray continues down the short hallway in the surgery room.

She finds herself in a small, dimly lit room, similar to a shed. The orderliness with which it appears to be organised is almost odd. The only source of light in the room is a small blue light bulb flickering in the ceiling.

It would appear that this room is supplied by water; she can hear water droplets trickling from a facet somewhere in the room, falling in even intervals. The room smells faintly of rust.

(I wonder if that coffee was made from this water…)

The tall steel shelves are lined with clear jars, all filled with various specimens. One especially large one is filled with some sort of liquid, and contains a countless number of small round objects bobbing up and down.

(These are…eyes…)

“They’re…all blue…”

Unthinkingly, she takes several steps back from that ghastly sight, and stumbles over a large white box. With a loud crash, she tumbles to the ground along with the box – and from it spill a vast number of fake eyes. Red, green, blue – the three colours roll about the floor chaotically.

“…Rachel, have you found my eye?”

Her heart jumps. She hears Danny’s voice sounding out behind her.

“Doctor…what are these…?”

Despite understanding that these are fake eyes, Ray wants confirmation. She hadn’t even considered the possibility that Danny’s forgotten item might be an eye. Because, after all, as the doctor had peered at her above the rims of his glasses in the darkness – she had clearly seen herself reflected in those eyes.

“Those are eyes. Say, Rachel, which one do you think is mine?”

(His eye…?)

Still completely bewildered, the girl looks among the scattered eyeballs, and finally points at a blue one, the same colour as her own eyes.

“I…want pretty eyes. If I had eyes like yours…I’d be overjoyed.”

(That’s what the doctor said…)

“Hahah, Rachel, I’m happy. You mean the blue one, right? I really do adore blue eyes. You have them, too. But…I don’t need that blue one. It’s nothing but a poor imitation…compared to your eyes. The only blue eyes I need are yours.”

For a single instant, he glares at the eye Ray has pointed out, then curves his mouth as he looks toward Ray’s. It isn’t – a real smile. After all…Ray’s eyes as they are in that moment aren’t the ones he desires. Danny knows better than anyone else what Ray’s eyes truly look like.

“Come, Rachel. Would you look at me with those lovely eyes of yours? What sort of face did I make back then? Try to remember our private meetings…the ones outside the counselling room.”

(Outside the counselling room…?)

But Ray cannot remember anything about herself prior to coming here. The only thing she can recall are her counselling sessions with Danny – but even those memories are faint and indistinct.

“…I don’t remember meeting you outside the hospital.”

“…I see. You still can’t remember everything about me.” With an exaggeratedly keen expression, the man continues – “Oh, I see. I remember. My eye is in that drawer. Could you open it? It’s dark, I can’t see very well.” All at once, he’s gently smiling again, pointing toward a small drawer amongst the shelves.

“Okay…”

For some reason feeling as if she mustn’t disobey him, she approaches the drawer as prompted and opens it. Inside is a single artificial eye. Ray picks it up – and nearly drops it.

(…! This eye…has two irises…)

A red and a green eye seem to glare at Ray from within the glittering white eyeball.

“Rachel, that’s my eye. You still can’t remember…even if you look at that?” Quietly creeping closer to the girl, Danny whispers in her ear.

“…No.” Fearfully, the girl twists her neck to peer at the man over her shoulder.

“You’re…still trapped in that dream. Would you give me that eye now, Rachel? I guess I’m not really myself without it. For you, and for myself, I need to put it in.”

(In order to regain your memories…)

Smiling sweetly, Danny holds out his hand.

(For him and for me…?)

Her eyebrows furrow at his words – but she still extends her hand to give him the eye.

“Thank you, Rachel. I’ll put this on now, so…would you wait a bit in the other room?”

Having received the artificial eye, Danny brushes his bangs aside and slowly pulls his right eye out of its socket.

(He…doesn’t have…an eye…)

The empty darkness gaping at her from the man’s skull looks like nothing more than a black hole.

“I won’t forgive you if you run away.” That darkness seems to glower at her.

▲▽

Returning to the operating room, Ray recalls each and every one of Danny’s strange actions around her.

(It’s odd…)

I can’t remember anything, but…the doctor who acted as my counsellour didn’t behave like that… I’m certain of it.

(Is it okay to just wait here like this…?)

I’m kind of scared…

She wants to leave immediately. Filled with a growing unease, she pushes on the door. But it seems to be locked.

(…Did he do this?)

Danny is the only one on this floor… He used to be the only one on this floor. That patient died…after he came…

I have to run! I have to get away from here…!

“I have to…!”

Her voice trickles out – and someone gently rests a hand on her shoulder. That soft touch seems to say, I won’t let you run. And then the grip tightens.

“Rachel, where were you going…?”

Danny whispers against her ear.

“…Doc…tor…”

(What should I – )

Her entire body trembles.

“I just said you can’t run away, right? This is…my floor.”

“…Your floor…?”

“Ah, yes. So if you run away to some other floor…I won’t be able to do anything to you myself.”

“On this floor is someone befitting of it.

“This individual is not permitted to leave their own floor.

“If you do not wish to be killed by this person, you must progress to the next floor.”

Ray recalls those words. Those are definitely the rules Danny spoke of.

(…He – isn’t a sacrifice…)

So that means…?

He’s going…to kill me.

The instant she realises this, she begins to scream.

“…No, doctor…! Let me go!”

If she’s killed, she won’t be able to go home anymore. And she doesn’t want to die yet.

But Danny ignores her cries, and pulls roughly upon her dainty wrist. He hauls her onto the operating table.

“You know, Rachel, I…wished to gaze at your living eyes forever. But, I have to do this. After all…you no longer have my ideal eyes…” Pinning her to the table with his hands, he speaks as if about to weep.

“So, Rachel…give me your eyes.”

That eye, split into two, looks down at her in contempt.

(Give him my eyes…? No…I’m scared!)

I want to go home…!

Those grotesque eyes stare down at her as she struggles wildly – and Ray loses consciousness.

▲▽

She has a tiny dream.

In the dream, she sits on the living room sofa, listening to her favourite music box. She sews her dolls as if in a trancelike state. The exact instant the music box stops, the dolls are complete. And they are quite a bit larger than herself.

(Ah, good. They’re done…)

The moment she squeezes them tightly to her chest, she regains consciousness.

(A dream…)

Realising she has returned to the real world, she timidly opens her eyes. Her dainty arms and legs have been restrained against the operating table. She can’t move.

“…Ah, Rachel. You’ve awakened.” Danny’s bicoloured eye seems to glare at her blue ones.

(Rachel…how can you look at me like that? Like you’re nothing more than a frail little girl…)

Your eyes really have become just plain blue eyes. Rachel, I’m so sad…

“Come on, can you really not remember why you’re here? Or why you’ve ended up like this…? If you do, you’ll be able to reclaim yourself. Take back those wonderful eyes of yours and live with me, Rachel…!”

He grips her hand tightly, his expression like that of one in prayer. It’s like he’s desperately waiting for her to come back to life.

“…” Looking at him, for a single instant, Ray feels like she might already be dead. She feels as if she’s become nothing more than a doll, like the one she was sewing in the dream.

“…It won’t work, huh.” Grimacing, Danny bites at one of his fingers in frustration.

(…When I woke up, I was here… I don’t know why… I want to go home.)

“Please, Doctor, let me go. I want to go back to my mom and dad…!” Ray gazes at Danny with earnest eyes, like those of a regular girl.

“…Rachel, I can’t do that. Certainly, your eyes are ordinary now…but they are far, far more beautiful than anyone else’s I have ever seen…” He gently touches her cheek.

“You can meet your mother and father very soon…” His words have a hint of laughter behind them.

“…How?”

“Right after I kill you.”

“…If I die, I won’t be able to meet them…”

“That’s not true. Because your mother and father…are waiting for you in hell.”

That ringing sound reverberates against her eardrums.

“Come, Rachel, look at me…”

Ring. Almost as if in response to Danny’s words, that sound resonates once again. It’s louder this time.

Suddenly, she remembers that full moon.

(That moon…)

…It was a blue moon.

An unnaturally blue full moon…

“Rachel…?”

Yes…that night…a blue full moon floated outside the sky in the window, as if she had been looking at a completely different world.

(…I…)

“…”

The sound rings out again, and Ray’s long eyelashes gently flutter against her cheeks as she slowly blinks. And, with eyes dull, as if she’s seen the end of the world – with eyes just like from before she lost her memories, she gazes at Danny.

“…Doctor Danny.” Despite her the wavering in her voice, her tone is clear as she calls his name. The girlish insecurity that had coloured her voice previously is no more. It’s a voice devoid of emotion, a voice that conveys she has recalled her memories, completely lacking in falsehood – and, at the same time, reclaimed her true self.

“Ahh…Rachel! You remembered me?! Ahh…your eyes…your eyes are so beautiful!” With a face full of ecstasy, the man gazes at her blue eyes that have shed all vestiges of normality.

(Yes – these are the eyes I wanted…eyes that have neither despair nor hope, just beautiful eyes…)

“…Doctor, I…shouldn’t be alive…” She looks at him with emotionless eyes as she speaks quietly.

I…remembered everything. About the counselling sessions I had with the doctor everyday…about mother and father…the tragedy that happened on the night of that full blue moon…and about the book I read beneath the moonlight…I remember everything.

(What lovely eyes…!)

Danny quivers in delight as he practically devours the sight of her eyes submerging beneath the weight of her hopelessness.

“That’s not true at all! I’ll take these off now. And then, live with me forever, Rachel!” Breathing roughly, the doctor hurriedly unfastens the restraints. He cries out as if to shout his emotions with his entire body –

“Oh…I’m so happy!”

▲▽

A man in a dark hooded sweatshirt strides down the hallway, a hand wrapped tightly n bandages grasping a large scythe that glints in the light. Zack is on a floor very different from his own, B6 – the hallway gleams immaculately in the meagre illumination.

(Damnit…where did she go?)

He doesn’t understand why. But through some sort of impulse, Zack has followed after Ray all the way to B5. He doesn’t usually follow a sacrifice to a different floor, even if they escape him. But right now, letting that girl go leaves his stomach whirling in dissatisfaction.

(I’m definitely gonna kill her.)

With a small tch, he grips his scythe tighter.

And it’s then that he hears Danny’s voice – the owner of this floor – resounding from the other side of the wall.

Oh…I’m so happy!

(…Happy, he said?)

The instant he hears that thrilled tone, the man is overcome by a boiling vexation. It might be the only emotion he’s ever felt since childhood.

(…Fucking bullshit.)

Fuelled by that terrible irritation, he thrusts his blade into the door of the operating room, slicing it open. It’s destroyed in the blink of an eye. Danny whirls around. His expression turns grim as he sees Zack standing there in the doorway. His teeth gleam through his bandages as he sneers out a laugh.

“Hyahahahahah!”

Zack’s insane laughter resonates in the tense atmosphere of the room. There’s not really anything particularly funny occurring. It’s just that he simply doesn’t like people who are enveloped in happiness.

Staring blankly at the ceiling, the girl finally reacts to that laughter.

(It’s that man…)

She immediately realises it’s the murderer she met on B6 – the master of that floor.

Zack doesn’t hesitate – he simply obeys his instincts to stride into the room, and immediately slices Danny’s belly. The girl, whose eyes only reflect despair, doesn’t react at all like when that small bird had been killed. Flecks of blood splatter in her vision, like in her restored memories.

“Y-you…”

Why.

(I was finally…finally about to make Rachel’s eyes my own…! I can’t…I can’t die like this…!)

His vision rapidly begins to pale and blur at the edges due to the immense pain he feels. And from that line between death and life, he looks up at Zack.

“Hey now, Danny…ya sounded so happy just now, I couldn’t help but just cut ya open!” Watching Danny’s consciousness slowly fade and seeing the despair clouding his expression causes the man to laugh contentedly.

“…” He wants to say something back, but he can’t. His hazy eyes begin to close as his surroundings fade away completely. For an instant, he sees Ray’s blue eyes floating in his vision – those eyes that have lost all emotion. As if they had become his.

(What lovely eyes…)

Beckoned by that fantasy, his eyes finally shut as he falls into a deep sleep.

The instant Danny stops moving, Zack appears to lose interest, his expression cooling. He abruptly turns toward the table.

“…Hey, I found ya in a hell of a mess, didn’t I?” He grins happily at the girl sprawled on the table.

“C’mon! If ya wanna live, run for it! Run, struggle! Cling to hope! And then I’ll slice ya open!” Zack’s loud voice, filled with a bizarre excitement, echoes throughout the room as he lifts that enormous, grim reaper-like scythe up.

But Ray doesn’t hear the man’s words at all. She is at the utter bottom of despair. Her head is filled with the memories of what happened that day of the full blue moon.

“…Ah?” Having been completely and utterly ignored by Ray, the man utters a sound of disapproval.

(…What’s going on?)

Ray, lying on the table with an unsettling vacantness upon her face, seems like a completely different person from the girl he met earlier.

“Hey, how come yer makin’ that boring face? Ya don’t want t’ live, not even when I’m pointin’ this blade at ya?” Zack asks her. Her eyes are those of one who isn’t looking anywhere, eyes that don’t reflect anything – it’s like she’s already dead.

“…”

I don’t.

She reflexively wants to say this, but her voice won’t come out.

“Hah…how boring. I’m a grown-ass man. I don’t like cuttin’ up dolls.” She looks like a dead fish lying on a cutting board, waiting to be diced up. Sighing, he lifts his scythe away from her. For some reason, he’s unable to want to end the life of someone who has no attachment to the world of the living, even if they lie at death’s door.

(Should I go back…)

Beep beep beep.

Just as he makes the decision to leave, a speaker somewhere in the room crackles to life. And, like before, a church bell chime rings out.

Betrayer alert.

The master of B6 has attacked the master of B5.

This is a violation of the rules.

The betrayer has become a sacrifice like Rachel.

According to that broadcast, Zack has just become a sacrifice.

“…Damn, they’re not fuckin’ around. Guess I should run.”

(…But where’s the exit?)

With a slightly foolish expression, he leaves the room without casting a second glance at the doll-like girl on the operating table. He doesn’t really have a reason to want to live, but that absolutely doesn’t mean he’s going to just let himself get killed.

(A sacrifice…)

Left alone in the operating room, Ray stares at the ceiling, quietly thinking to herself.

That’s right…I shouldn’t be alive…

After Zack leaves, she forces herself to stand up.

On the floor is Danny’s grotesque, bloodstained, still-warm body, splayed on the ground.

(Doctor…can’t see anymore.)

With sad, faded eyes, Ray stares expressionlessly down at the man. He looks as if he might only be sleeping. She pokes his cheek as if he were nothing more than a toy.

(I wonder if he’s dead…)

“…”

His body doesn’t even twitch.

Suddenly, she catches a glimpse of the cardkey inside the pocket of Danny’s once-white coat, now dyed red.

(I…might be able to use this on the other doors…)

Without hesitation, she thrusts her hand into his pocket and fishes out the card, dropping it into her own pocket.

▲▽

…I’ve woken up from that happy dream.

That’s the only thing she clearly understands in this world as she unsteadily totters out into the hallway, leaving Danny behind. She walks down the hallway, overwhelmed with the despair brought by her reawakened memories.

As she walks, she passes by the door to the special patient’s room, and recalls how Danny had stopped her from brushing aside the dust covering the writing on the wall.

(I wonder what it said…)

Curious, she pauses in front of the room, and lifts a hand to push the door open. But the room is locked. She doesn’t doubt for a second that Danny was the one who had locked it. So – the card she’d taken from him should work.

Ray pushes the cardkey into the door’s slot. With a clunk, the door opens, as she had suspected it would.

(So I guess this key works on all the doors on this floor…)

Confirming this to herself, the girl pushes the door open and slips the key into her pocket.

(…Let’s take care of that dust…)

Brushing aside most of the dirt reveals insane, heartrending words carved into the wall, stained red.

Help me, help me, I’m scared, I’m so scared!

There were three of us, but I’m the only one here.

They’re coming to kill me, they’re coming to kill me. Out of the three of us, I’m the only one who’s going to be killed.

They’re coming to kill me as if it were only natural.

Who allowed them to do this?

Help me, help me, God…!

(I knew it. The patient was killed by that doctor…)

“…God.”

Whispering that final word in a strangely meek tone, the girl leaves the room.

▲▽

Feeling as if she’s been trapped in a nightmare of some sort, Ray once again advances down the hallway.

She notices countless glimmering fragments of ��� something spilled all over the floor. It’s that glass wall – it’s been utterly shattered into tiny pieces. She quickly comes to the conclusion that this must be the work of the man who had killed Danny – the man called Zack.

That man cut through the glass, just like that…just like he killed doctor Danny…in just an instant, he left this world.

(God? …Oh, God, would you forgive me if I were to be killed…?)

“…”

I want…to be killed…by that man…

Spurred by her instincts, Ray runs over the fragments of glass toward Zack.

“…It won’t open! Even if I hit it, it won’t break… Damnit, what should I do…”

She sees Zack struggling to open those unmoving doors. There’s probably an elevator behind them.

“…What are you doing?” She calls out to him with renewed willpower, the knowledge of what she will ask him to do bringing her a little bit of hope.

“Hah? …What are ya doin’, waltzin’ up to me like that?” Reflexively turning upon hearing her voice, the man speaks threateningly, glaring at the girl. But Ray no longer feels afraid of him.

“…Um…I have a favour to ask.”

Taking a deep breath, Ray looks up at his face, covered in filthy bandages, and sees his eyes peering out at her like slits from between the layers of linen. Fixing her gaze upon that pretty golden eye, she speaks:

“…Please…kill me.”

Zack’s eyes go wide, and, for an instant as he stares at her, he’s utterly fascinated. With the expression she wears right now, he would have never thought her to be a thirteen-year-old girl.

(…She asked me…to kill her?)

I’m gonna be sick…!

The moment he comprehends Ray’s desire, he vomits everything he had eaten that day – or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he expelled all that food with the intention of ridding himself the strange shiver that welled up within him.

“…Ueghh!”

No one had ever requested something from him like that before. No one had ever desired anything from him before. And from the bottom of his heart, he truly doesn’t understand why a girl he just barely met would ask him such an insane thing without even any forewarning.

“Shit! Don’t ask me for creepy stuff like that! I don’t have time t’ screw around with weirdoes with fucked up faces like yours!” The man shouts at her, wiping the puke staining the bandages near his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie in order to suppress the hellish disgust he feels.

“…So you won’t?” Her expression twists into earnestness as she looks at him, avoiding turning her gaze to the mess on the floor. She can’t understand why Zack is so repulsed by her wish. After all, he had dispatched of Danny in the blink of an eye. It should be easy to kill her.

“Whether I will or won’t ain’t the problem! What’s a kid like you doin’ here, anyway?!”

“…I was here before I realised it.”

It’s not a lie. She remembers far too well what occurred before she came here. But she still doesn’t know why she’s here.

“Hah? Ya don’t remember anything before ya got here?”

“…I don’t.” She answers after a small pause. Certainly, she could answer that she remembers, or that she doesn’t remember. But it’s definitely better to say she doesn’t.

“Well, guess it doesn’t matter. If ya got time to say creepy shit, do something about this door!” Kicking the doors leading to the elevator, the man raises his voice yet again.

“That should open with this cardkey.” Ray retrieves the key she took from Danny and holds it underneath the card reader. The patient’s room and the operating room had both opened with this card…so she’s certain that this door should open as well.

With a sharp sound, the doors slide open, as Ray suspected. And the elevator to B4 reveals itself to the two of them.

“…Hahah!”

The moment he sees the elevator, Zack smiles gleefully. It’s as if his irritation seconds before had been nothing more than a lie.

“Come to think of it, ya got here all by yerself, right?” he asks, looking at Ray, his expression akin to a child who has just come up with a fantastic idea.

“Yeah.”

“Ya see, I’m kinda dumb. So…help me get outta here together.”

“Together…?”

Stooping over to match her height, Zack gazes deep into her eyes. They seem to convey that she’s surprised about something.

“Oh, right. Ya said ya wanted me t’ kill ya.”

“…I did.” She responds with a serious expression.

“Killin’ ya’s easy, but I ain’t feelin’ up t’ it when ya got such a damn boring face. So when we get outside, you’ll be able t’ show me a better face, won’t ya?” Looking into her blank face, Zack laughs like a mischievous child as he makes his offer.

“So, when we get outta here together…I’ll kill you.”

She hears a bell ringing, somewhere. It might be nothing more than an auditory hallucination. But that sound has been the clearest thing she has ever heard thus far.

“…Really?” She looks up at Zack with hopeful eyes.

“Yeah. But make sure t’ behave. And don’t run around all happy like. …Whenever I see someone lookin’ too happy, I…just get the urge to kill ‘em.”

“…Okay.”

(…I definitely can’t make a happy expression.)

Thinking this, Ray nods her head.

“Well, seein’ yer dead eyes, I guess I don’t have t’ worry. Let’s get outta this place.”

“Yeah.”

For just a moment, as the two exchange their vows, they stare at one another. Then they advance into the elevator.

“When we get outta here together…I’ll kill you.”

As the elevator begins to move, those words reverberate through Ray’s head over and over. Those words are like a dazzling beacon shining within this colourless world of despair and sadness.

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Satsuriku no Tenshi Light Novel Volume 1 - Zack’s Memory

Satsuriku no Tenshi - Until Death Do Them Part - Zack’s Memory

Story by Makoto Sanada, written by Chiren Kina, illustrations by Negiyan, translations by me.

If you want to help out with translations, feel free to contact me!

Prologue | B7 | B6 | B5 | B4 (Part 1 / Part 2) | B3 (Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4) | Zack’s Memory || Index

The rain poured relentlessly, as if to wash away everything in its path.

After I killed that married couple and left the institution, I walked toward the city in the midst of that unforgiving rain. The institution was in the outskirts, but I thought that if I walked far enough, I’d get to the city. So I continued on, single-mindedly.

(…But what am I gonna do when I get there?)

It’s not like I actually had any place to go.

And because there was nothing good to eat, the harsh rain mercilessly stole away what little remained of my strength. The thrill of killing that married couple was the only thing allowing my skeleton-thin body to continue moving forward.

As I tottered unsteadily along, a red car came to a stop beside me. A tall woman in high heels, wearing heavy makeup, emerged from the it.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

I guess she felt concern for me, a kid walking all alone on a night like this, in the pouring rain.

But the moment she took a closer look at me, she couldn’t help but scream.

I can’t blame her.

My clothes were soaked in blood, and my once-painful burn scars were clearly visible beneath my unravelling bandages. And in my hand, I carried a kitchen knife smeared in the orphanage caretakers’ blood.

“Y-you should run along home, now!” The woman spoke quickly, her expression enveloped in fear.

“…I don’t got a home to go back to.”

The moment those words left my lips, I pointed the knife toward her. After all, the face that woman was making was the same as the woman in that movie. So I couldn’t just let her go. Maybe I’d wanted to feel that thrill again.

The woman immediately turned her back on me and ran back toward her car. But she was too slow.

“Kyaaa…!”

It was just like that movie. Just like that murderer, I swung my knife downwards and slashed at her as hard as I could. She immediately shrieked in such a high-pitched, shrill way – it was annoying. But that irritating voice drowned out the rain. In the end, she stopped breathing all too soon.

After that, I climbed into her car. Because the rain wouldn’t get to me there. I was tired from walking. And even if I got to the city, I’d have no place to go after that.

The woman lay discarded on the road beside the car, the whites of her eyes staring sightlessly. Her lips, stained bright red with lipstick, looked sort of creepy.

“…”

But, I wonder why…unlike the moment I had stabbed that woman to death, I couldn’t feel any particular interest in the dead body. In fact, I wanted it to just disappear.

(Guess I’ll sleep a bit…)

I closed my eyes as if trying to avert my gaze from the corpse. But I couldn’t fall asleep very easily. That strange elation still thrummed through my body.

So, unable to sleep, I simply lay in the car like that.

Eventually, the rain began to abate, and the sky cleared up.

(What should I do now…)

I wondered to myself, staring up at the dark sky through the rain-spattered window. But nothing else surfaced in my mind asides from that. Perhaps it was better to say that I couldn’t think of anything else. I’m not very good at thinking. Somehow, the very act annoys me. When I try, my mind whirls, and it becomes nothing more than a chore.

“Hah…”

I unintentionally sighed, and that’s when I heard something hit the car door.

(What was that…?)

Twisting my body to look outside the window, I saw an old man standing there. I guessed he must have been homeless…his clothes were quite shabby-looking.

“…It’s no good to just leave a car in the middle of the road like that. Is the driver around?”

After a moment, the old man said that, his eyes not seeming to see a thing. Perhaps it was because they couldn’t focus on anything; but it felt like he was looking somewhere far off into the distance.

Suddenly, the old man’s cane collided with the dead woman’s body. However, he merely tilted his head, apparently not finding the sound to be of much concern. I have no idea whether or not he knew it was a person – but he seemed to be strangely apprehensive regardless.

“Is someone there?”

The old man turned his gaze toward me, as if he could sense my presence.

“Ah…” I unintentionally made a small sound, as if I’d been asked a question.

“A child…? Where did you come from?” the old man asked me in a soft, kind voice.

“…”

I don’t know why, but for some reason, I couldn’t answer him very well. I hadn’t really talked to people or held conversations before. In the first place, I didn’t know where that institution was – and even if I did, an idiot like me wouldn’t have been able to explain it.

“…Shut up.” Irritated, I mumbled this to myself.

(…I hate adults who talk all confusing the most – )

I clenched the knife in my hand and held it toward that old man. But I didn’t have much strength anymore. It was probably because, on top of walking in the hard rain, I hadn’t slept all night. But it should be easy to kill an old man like this all by himself.

But, even though I held that knife up toward him, that old man’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. In fact, his face was as blank as if he hadn’t been thinking of anything at all.

(Why…?)

For some reason, that made me feel so sick I wanted to puke.

“What’s wrong? I’m blind, you see. If you don’t say anything, I won’t understand you.”

The old man hung his head as he said that. I really did feel like I wanted to vomit. Maybe it was because of the bad air in the car and the lack of sleep.

(…He’s…blind…)

I felt somehow let down. This was – anticlimactic. And for some reason, I lost every bit of strength in my body.

I suddenly found myself assailed by an unbelievable sleepiness. And so – my consciousness faded, as if I were falling into a black pit.

▲▽

When I opened my eyes, I didn’t recognise where I was. I was in some kind of worn-out house that reminded me of an abandoned building. The air smelt filthy, like a toilet.

(What is this…?)

On top of my filthy body covered in blood and rain was a dirty trench coat.

“Did you wake up?”

The moment I stand, a door riddled with numerous cracks slid open. The old man came into the room from what looked to be a kitchen. He reeked of urine. And that was when I understood that this unhygienic place must be where he lived.

(He took me here…?)

I wonder…what happened to those dead bodies. The married couple and that woman. Though I did think of them for an instant, I’ve probably got nothing to do with them anymore. I don’t even like corpses. Just like thinking… I guess there’s nothing in this world that I like.

“Please, eat this.”

The old man held out a piece of bread to me with a hand stained intermittently with black spots. I was still half-asleep. When was the last time I’d been given something to eat…? Anyway, my stomach was always empty. Or, maybe I was always so hungry that I’d stopped feeling hungry in the first place.

I snatched the bread away from him as if afraid he would take it away, and stuffed it into my mouth. It was awfully hard. But I didn’t care much. So long as I could eat it, it didn’t matter what it was; whether it tasted good or bad wasn’t important.

The old man took another piece of bread similar to the one he had given me, and with that expressionless face of his and his bad-looking teeth, he began to eat as well.

“Why were you there all by yourself?”

I’d consumed the bread in the blink of an eye, but the old man ate frighteningly slowly. And he asked me that question once again after he had finally finished.

(Why…)

Even now, I can’t really understand what had been happening around me. Just how I’d been able to live this long. Why I was alive. I don’t even know that now. I just don’t want to die, so I keep on living. I wanted to kill that married couple and that woman, so I killed them. That’s all –

“…Well…you must have some reason. It’s all right if you can’t put it into words. If you have nowhere else to go, I wouldn’t mind if you stayed here with me.” The old man said that after a short silence.

“…Why?” Unthinkingly, I opened my mouth.

I didn’t understand him. He’d just met me this morning, we had no blood ties, and it’s not like I’d done anything for this man. I didn’t understand why he would say something like that to a kid he’d just barely met.

“If you don’t want to, you can leave whenever you like.” The old man spoke curtly. But I think he sounded a bit lonely, too.

“…I didn’t say I didn’t want to,” I mumble as if talking to myself.

(…That’s right, it’s good I’ve got a place to sleep now…)

“I see.”

It was probably my imagination that that old man smiled a little. It had to be. There’s a limit to creepy shit like that.

▲▽

And so, for a short period of time, I lived with that blind man in that abandoned building.

Though I say we lived together, we didn’t do anything together, nor did we speak to one another. Most of the time, we dozed. I don’t know why, but for some reason, when I was with that old man, no matter how much I slept, I felt drowsy.

Perhaps because of his poor eyesight, he neither cleaned nor cooked. He didn’t go out often except in the mornings. I didn’t feel like going anywhere, either – I didn’t know where I would go anyway – so I simply stayed in that tiny room that stunk of piss, and closed my eyes, not thinking of anything. Strangely, I didn’t feel bored.

It was the first time I’d lived without thinking of anything and without being tormented by anything. And I wasn’t hungry anymore.

“Eat this.”

Because everyday, that old man would give me hard, crusty bread.

I accepted that bread full of wonderment. The old man also ate that hard bread.

(It’s all mouldy…)

Because of the rain, sometimes the bread would be mouldy. I understood less and less why that old man, who clearly didn’t have much money to his name, would give me food, especially because I never did anything for him.

After all, until then, I had only ever been used by the adults around me –

But that old man never ordered anything of me.

He just talked about trivial things whenever the thought hit him.

Stuff like, “the weather is nice today,” or “what do you want to become in the future?”, or “I wish you good dreams”…

At those times, I’d always get some weird shiver in my heart. It made me want to rip it out with my own two hands. But I couldn’t figure out what that shiver was.

So, I couldn’t do anything to appease that weird, uncomfortable feeling.

▲▽

“It’s cold today.”

“…”

For some reason, when he spoke to me, I felt such a strong shiver that I couldn’t stand it.

(…I feel sick.)

I wanted to get rid of it immediately. And once I thought that to myself – I once again felt an urge to kill.

(That’s right…how about I kill that old man?)

I decided that that would be the easiest way.

But whenever I approached him with a knife, his face bore an expression of one who knew absolutely nothing. I guess it was natural, since he was stupid on top of being blind.

(…Ah.)

Suddenly, killing this unhappy, wretched, blank-faced old man seemed completely and terribly pointless. Even if I did, that shiver definitely wouldn’t go away.

So I went outside. I wonder how much time had passed since I had left the house. But, that doesn’t matter.

(I want to kill.)

Those words were the only ones rattling about in my head. It didn’t matter who it was so long as I could kill them.

Not too far from the house, there was a small river, which could be crossed over by a bridge. I killed someone there. All I can remember now was that it was a guy – I have no idea what kind of person he was. He was talking to someone on his cellphone, laughing happily, so I killed him. The person on the other side of the phone sounded panicked. Maybe it was his lover or something.

The moment that man had seen the knife in my hand, his body had stiffened in fear.

And seeing that gave me an elation so great that it dispelled that shiver I felt.

Oh, I get it now. I guess I wanted to figure out what that thrill I felt was.

But, for some reason…I thought about that old man, too.

I wonder what he’d think if he saw me right now…he’d probably lose his mind…

…So, I’ll kill him…

If I do, I’ll know everything there is to know about this thrill surging through my body.

And so, with the blood of a man I’d never spoken once to all over my body, I returned to the house where that old man waited for me.

“What happened?”

Despite being blind, it seemed he could sense that something strange had happened. He could probably smell the fresh blood.

“I killed someone. I wanted to kill them, so I did.” I said the complete truth, staring straight into that man’s white eyes.

And then…I told him everything. I told him about all the people I had killed before I had met him. I told him about what I had done on that rainy night I had met him, about the married couple at the institution, about the woman who had called out to me. I told him everything in great detail.

I was certain he would become greatly panicked, discovering he had thought I was just a poor kid, learning he’d taken someone like me into his house.

“I see.”

But he didn’t become flustered in the slightest. He wasn’t even afraid. He just said that in a somewhat sad voice.

(…Why?)

I didn’t understand.

If he’d become panicked, I would have killed him right away –

“So, what do you want to do now?”

(…What do I want to do?)

I couldn’t answer him. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I didn’t have any sort of answer. Because – I’d just wanted to see his terrified face.

I thought I’d kill him without even batting an eyelash as soon as he showed me a face filled with despair –

“…”

I sank into silence as blood dripped from my clothes, and the old man simply said,

“You must be tired, right? Go on and sleep.”

And draped my shoulders with a filthy coat.

What is this? What the hell is this?

(What exactly am I to this old man…?)

I didn’t know. I don’t know. Maybe I was afraid of knowing.

(I don’t want to think about anything anymore.)

My knife was twisted and worn from cutting into the flesh of four different people. Dropping it, I collapsed right then and there, and fell asleep. The only thing I knew was that the knife was probably useless by now.

▲▽

The next day, when I opened my eyes, the old man wasn’t there.

But that was normal. He was never here at dawn. Every morning, he’d go for a walk. And from who knows where, he’d bring back that hard, stale bread.

When my eyes fell to the table, I noticed something strange – a piece of paper of some kind.

I’ll be back at noon. Wait for me.

But I couldn’t read. I was never taught. So I didn’t understand what was written there.

(It’s probably something for me…)

There was that shiver again. And for some reason, I was painfully curious about what that letter said.

So, the entire day, consumed with an unending agitation – I waited for that old man.

▲▽

…That morning, that child stank of blood.

His voice was hoarse, and he smelt filthy. That was all I needed to tell what unsanitary conditions that child had been living in. Someone like me, who was exiled from decent society, can understand these things –

And yesterday, that child killed someone.

I’d thought it was unusual for him to go out. And when I had smelt the blood, I had had to ask him what had happened. And he had answered honestly and immediately, without the slightest bit of shyness – in fact, he had seemed almost boastful.

And that’s not all. He also told me about all the other murders he had committed. I could not figure out if his tone was merry or menacing.

And I didn’t know what to say, so I simply said, “I see”.

What should I have said to him?

I’m sure he wanted something from me…but I don’t know what.

Perhaps he wanted me to give some kind of meaning to his existence. He seemed almost tormented by my kindness toward him, toward someone I had just met.

And I found him to be extremely pitiful…and needing to be loved.

But I had not the self-confidence to convey that to that child. Even though I’ve come to this age, I’ve never had a child of my own.

I only took him home with me that day on a whim.

Perhaps I couldn’t leave him alone because I’d been reminded of myself, a long time ago. But it was also true that I had simply thought him to be pitiful.

Suddenly, I found myself wondering if it would be all right for me to try to turn that child toward a better path, even just a little bit. I wondered if there was even the slightest thing that I could do for him.

After all, I only have a few years left. And until now, I’ve only lead an insignificant, irresponsible life.

Would it be all right for me to try to do something for that child from now on?

The heat of the sun washed down upon me along with the drizzling morning rain. Tapping my stick on the ground to make sure of the path ahead of me, I walked toward the usual bakery. There, I bought soft, fresh bread for him, not the scraps he was used to.

I wonder if he’ll already have awoken when I get home…

(I think I should be able to ask him for his name now…)

I laughed as I imagined that child’s bewildered response, and hurried down the path home, tightly holding my bag of bread. The sweet scent of freshly baked bread filled the air.

▲▽

In the end, the old man didn’t come home that day. Or the next. Or the next.

He must have run away. I should have killed him when I had the chance –

I tore the letter I couldn’t read up into tiny pieces, and threw it to the floor.

What was this? What was this feeling? I don’t know.

I don’t know I don’t know Idon’tknowIdon’tknowIdon’tknow – I don’t want to know –

“Arghhh!”

As if to expel all the uncomfortable sensations I had ever felt, I screamed aloud, and set on the house in a rampage. After all, if he wasn’t going to come back, there was no reason to hold myself back. I broke everything that could possibly be broken. I stabbed the furniture with all my strength, using that warped knife.

And a shimmering blade fell out of one of the drawers.

(A knife…)

Ah…I want to kill.

I want to kill I want to kill I want to kill I want to kill I want to kill! I want to kill so bad I can’t help it!

Uncontrollable urges took a hold of my body. Unhesitatingly, I grabbed that knife and ran outside.

Of course, I had no where in particular to go.

(I want to kill.)

That was my only goal.

I walked as if sleepwalking, when I saw the neon flickering lights in the city. As if drawn toward them, I wandered into a back-alley. A little ways inside, a tall man with a skull necklace and a curly-haired woman wearing a miniskirt were talking to one another enthusiastically.

“That old guy only had five dollars in his wallet!”

“Whoa, seriously?”

The man held a familiar-looking cane in his hand.

(That’s…)

There was no mistaking it. That was the walking stick that old man had always carried with him.

“Seriously! It was such a waste of time. He pissed me off, so I threw him into the river. Hahahah!”

And, with a disgusting laugh, he broke the cane clean in half.

That day…the day I first killed someone was the first time I ever saw a movie.

I don’t remember what it was called or what it was about anymore. But I remember a scene where a murderer killed a man and a woman – a couple. No…it’s not that I remember it. It’s been seared into my memory.

That monster appeared, crushing their happy, flimsy days into nothingness.

…I see. Because happy people like that exist, monsters also exist.

(…I’m gonna…fill you with despair – !)

When I came to, the knife was stained with blood. The curly-haired woman lay collapsed on the ground, twitching erratically.

“Wha – what are you doing…!”

Despite his attempt at bluffing, the man’s voice trembled.

And I felt a thrill in the depths of my heart far exceeding that of before.

For some reason, I heard that old man’s words again.

“So, what do you want to do now?”

…I’ve decided.

I want to kill them.

I don’t know if it’s fun. But I want to warp the faces of those bastards, smiling like creeps, into agony and despair, and I want to kill them.

That’s what I think from the bottom of my heart.

No one got close to me, except for that old man. No one needed me. It didn’t matter if someone as gross and disgusting as me was there or not.

But as long as I have a knife, I can make people look at me with despair and fear.

And that moment makes me happy.

(Does thinking that make me a killer?)

“…I’m a monster.”

When I tried saying those words, I felt a tugging sensation, a mixture of pain and delight.

It might have been the moment I freed myself from being tormented by others, or it might have been the moment I realised what I was.

(…I am the one who kills others.)

Yes, that’s definitely what I am –

Spontaneously, I started to laugh.

“Hyahahahah!”

My eyes were wide open as I raised that knife up and rushed toward that man, his expression full of despair as his body trembled in fear. And I stabbed his body, his face, his heart, over, and over, and over again with that knife.

The screams stopped. The two dead bodies simply lay on the ground grotesquely. I really did simply lose interest once they died.

I looked up at the clear night sky to see the amber full moon shining down on me.

“The weather is nice today.”

“…Ya shouldn’t’ve gotten yerself killed…”

I sighed a little, and tasted hard bread on my tongue.

I walked away into the darkness of the alley, clutching that knife. To that house, where the old man won’t come back anymore, to that ruined old building – to sleep.

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Satsuriku no Tenshi Light Novel Volume 1 - B6

Satsuriku no Tenshi - Until Death Do Them Part - B6

Story by Makoto Sanada, written by Chiren Kina, illustrations by Negiyan, translations by me.

If you want to help out with translations, feel free to contact me!

Prologue | B7 | B6 | B5 | B4 (Part 1 / Part 2) | B3 (Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4) | Zack’s Memory || Index

With a muffled clang, the elevator comes to a stop.

(It stopped…)

What was that announcement just now…? I couldn’t understand it very well…

With a listless expression, as if still caught in a dream, Ray gets off the elevator. And doing so is like stepping into a nightmare. She’s assaulted by a terribly offensive odour.

(It stinks…)

Is this really the inside of a building?

The space that extends out in front of her is completely unlike the hospital she had been in a few moments before. This should be in the inside of a building…but the asphalt road stretching out ahead makes it look like she’s outside. Randomly interspersed on the road are mounds of trash. She has no idea what they were before becoming garbage…but she suspects they’ve been left as they are for quite a long time. The air is full of the stench of rotting food scraps. Within the piles of trash, she can see a massive number of flies, bugs she’s never seen before, and countless swarms of glistening, black cockroaches. It’s a spectacle so filthy that it makes her want to vomit.

I feel sick…I really don’t remember ever coming to this place…

(…Anyway, I need to find the exit.)

Turning her gaze away from the legions of bugs swarming the road, Ray holds her breath as she crosses through the trash.

After just a short while of walking, she comes to a naked concrete wall, upon which numerous copied and magnified newspaper clippings have been affixed.

An unknown murderer?

On (date redacted), a man’s body was found on the road.

The corpse has numerous stab wounds, and so the occurrence is being treated as a murder.

It seems the serial murders that occurred here last month are still ongoing.

Since there cannot be any similarities found between any of the victims, it is asked that residents living in the area maintain caution.

Despite her vacant expression, Ray is overcome with surprise as she finishes reading the strange article.

Clang…

Suddenly, a disturbing sound rushes through her ears from the other side of the wall. It sounds like an empty can falling to the ground.

(Is someone here…?)

Holding her breath, she looks around. But she can’t see anyone around her. And yet, she can still keenly sense a strange presence in the air.

(I should go…)

As if spurred by that unsettling noise, Ray begins to wander about the floor, searching for the exit.

She doesn’t know for how long she wanders that mazelike labyrinth of roads and passages. All she seems to be able to find are bugs – the exit is nowhere in sight. Ray abruptly comes to a halt, like a robot whose battery has run out. Tired, she stares into space, and notices a spiderweb stretching down from the ceiling.

(…That’s – )

For a moment, Ray opens her eyes wide. Behind the wisps of webs, she can see a flashing emergency exit sign. Beside it is a sign denoting the way to the elevator.

(An elevator…? So that’s the exit?)

As if a moth drawn to a flame, Ray rushes to the exit door. However, it doesn’t seem like it will open for her, no matter how hard she tries to pull on it.

(I wonder how I can open it…)

Tilting her head to the side, she suddenly feels as if something else is near her. She quickly turns her head to look. What she sets her gaze upon is what looks like a pitch-black alleyway. Peeking inside, she notes that a different scent seems to come from that direction.

“…”

She feels vaguely frightened about going that way.

“…Come on, Ray, sit with us.”

However, as if descending from the heavens, a soft voice calls to Ray from within her mind.

(That’s right…I have to quickly get back to mom and dad…)

Ray takes in a soft breath, as if about to descend beneath a pool of water, and she unsteadily steps into that alleyway, overflowing with bugs.

▲▽

As she walks down the alley, there’s the unpleasant sound of her boots squelching on the bugs’ crushed bodies.

At the end of the passageway is a small, empty space. It’s as gloomy as if it were nighttime. As her eyes gradually grow accustomed to the darkness, Ray realises she can see splotches of dark red marks scattered all over the alley. They’re threatening traces of some tragedy that must have occurred here before.

(This is blood…)

But why would there be blood in this building…?

Thinking this wonderingly to herself, Ray looks around the alleyway. On the wall illuminated by a yellow lightbulb from above, she can see words written in white chalk, with the same hand as the text she had seen on B7.

“On this floor is someone befitting of it.

“This individual is not permitted to leave their own floor.

“If you do not wish to be killed by this person, you must progress to the next floor.”

(Some kind of graffiti…?”)

As she reads them, she idly stores those words in her memory. It was not that she had intended to do that. She merely unconsciously memorised those words. Ray has always been like this. Ever since she had been born, she had always been very intelligent. No matter how trivial the subject matter, she has never once forgotten the contents of the books she has read, even those she has only read once.

Next to the graffiti is another newspaper clipping. On both the wall and the paper are ominous splashes and traces of spilt blood.

The Back-Alley Murderer

Once again, on (date redacted), a corpse has been discovered in (state redacted).

The body of a teenage boy was found in a back alley. His identity is unknown.

His body is covered in enormous slash wounds. The investigation on the local serial murders continues.

Ray reads this article with no emotion.

(A teenaged boy…)

Perhaps it’s nothing more than because they are of similar ages, but for some reason, her interest is piqued. But now isn’t the time to stand still in this creepy place.

(I have to go home…)

Sighing a little, Ray begins to walk once more. But at that moment, there’s a somehow lovely peeping sound that comes down from the ceiling. Looking up, the girl looks for the source of the sound. There’s a small hole near the ceiling, where she can see a small white bird. It calls to her as if trying to get her attention.

(Why is a bird somewhere in a place like this…?)

Ray tilts her head a little. If the inscription that this is B6 is correct, then this should be a place that’s very deep underground.

(…The bird is cute.)

Before she can even begin to think about it, the desire to touch the bird wells up within her. That such a lovely creature could exist in such a filthy place with no other sign of life – Ray’s trembling heart is unable to conceal the relief and happiness she feels.

“Come over here,” she calls out to the bird softly, beckoning to it with a small hand. But the bird simply tilts its head as Ray did before, and doesn’t leave its hole. Though she can’t see into the darkness, it seems like the bird is very weak

(Maybe it’s hungry…)

“Wait just a bit…I’ll get you something to eat.” With a soft smile, the girl hurriedly leaves the back-alley behind her.

▲▽

Looking around for anything that could be edible, Ray once again proceeds through the floor. As she walks to the end of another alley, she can some garage shutters, only halfway shut, out of the corner of her vision. Beyond the shutters, she can see a smashed locker – as if someone had kicked it.

(I wonder if there’s something to eat in there…)

Ray’s stature makes her perfect to squeeze beneath the shutters.

The place reminds her of a factory. Right next to the entrance is a washstand stained with dark red liquid. But now matter how much she twists the facet, water won’t come out.

(I’m thirsty…)

Though she can’t quite remember, she feels like it’s been a long time since she’s eaten or drank anything.

The floor is asphalt, and rough to the touch. Had she not known better, she would have never assumed she was inside a building. Scattered on the ground are filthy work clothes and carelessly stowed away wooden boxes of numerous sizes. Amongst the boxes are those of a size that Ray could fit in with room to spare.

(I wonder if this was some sort of factory…)

Faintly thinking this, Ray opens each and every one of the boxes, looking for something to eat. Unfortunately, they are all empty.

“Ah…”

In the final, smallest box she opens, she finds a half-eaten bag of popcorn.

(Thank goodness…it’s a bit damp, but it seems edible…can birds eat popcorn…?)

Pressing the bag to her chest so that nothing spills out, she carefully opens up the black purse hanging from her shoulder and places the popcorn inside. Standing up and beginning to make her way back to the bird, she pauses when her boots make a crunching sound, different from when she had been stepping on the insects earlier. Turning over her foot, she picks out something from the bottom of her shoe. It’s a rumpled news article that someone must have crumpled up and thrown away.

Serial killer.

On (date redacted), the body of John Smith, age 26, was found in a factory.

From the wounds on his body, it’s assumed that he is the victim of the same serial killer that has been troubling this city.

John Smith was an employee of this factory. He is described as a fine young man by his colleagues, and was diligent and serious.

His body was found the day after he excitedly told his coworkers that he would be getting a new car. He seemed very happy.

This heartless killer has plunged the city into fear.

A murderer…

(For a while now, I’ve just been seeing these kinds of articles everywhere…do they have something to do with this building?)

As she reads that terrifying news clipping, she suddenly has a terrible premonition rattling within her head.

But at that moment, she hears a distant peeping, as if the bird is calling her back.

That’s right…I have to get back to that bird, quickly…

Having lost interest in the news article in a single instant, Ray tosses the crumpled news article to the ground and jogs back to the bird.

▲▽

The bird continues peeping in the back-alley, as if trying to tell Ray where it is.

(Was it waiting for me…?)

It hasn’t moved from where she’s seen it last. Sighing in relief, Ray takes out the bag of candy from her purse and shakes out two or three pieces of popcorn into the palms of her hands. Then she stretches her hand out toward the little bird’s direction. As if tempted by the scent of food, the bird timidly leaves the hole in the wall. It gently and happily pecks at the popcorn.

“You can eat them all.”

(…How cute.)

The bird is doing its utmost effort to eat the kernels of popcorn in her hand. It looks so lovely that the girl cannot help but smile at it. She had always liked cute things. For some reason, just by being around them, she feels her heart become enveloped by a mysterious calm.

(That puppy…was cute, too…)

As she gazes at the bird, she is abruptly reminded of a puppy she had.

(Oh, that’s right…come to think of it, I did have a pet puppy…)

My memories might be coming back, little by little…

Nevertheless, she still can’t recall why she came here, nor what sort of person she was. All she can remember is her name, age, that she came for counselling…and that she’s witnessed the murder of some unknown person.

As if trying to shake off those unpleasant memories, she reaches out a hand toward the bird.

“Oh no, are you hurt…?”

The moment she goes to pet it, she realises that the wing on its opposite side is stained in blood, and looks as if it’s been cut with something sharp.

(It looks like it hurts…and you can’t fly like that, either.)

…I have to fix you up.

Gently, with both hands, Ray bundles the bird onto her lap.

“It’s all right, stay still.”

From a first aid kit in her purse, she takes out a roll of bandages, and gently wraps them around the bird’s body, as if wrapping a precious present.

“…You’ll be okay now.”

As she finishes neatly tying the bandages, once again that ominous clang sound rings out – except this time, it’s far closer. The small bird, as if it has an understanding of what that sound means, begins to tremble.

“…It’s all right, don’t be afraid. Let’s get out of here together…okay?”

However, Ray pays no mind to the sound drawing closer. Instead, she pets the soft and warm body in her hands, and smiles gently at the little bird. The bird is unnaturally afraid of whatever has made that noise, and slips out of Ray’s grasp.

“No, don’t run away – ”

Though the bird can’t fly very well, it struggles in the direction of that noise, and Ray chases after it.

“Come on, come over here.”

And the moment she smiles, reaching for that bird –

That pure white bird splits into two, and its body soars through the air.

Red liquid gushes outward, splashing on Ray’s cheek. For a single instance, the air is filled with silence. Hot blood rolls down her cheek and drips to the ground. And then, a loud, violent laughter resounds against her eardrums.

“Hyahahahah!”

Completely dumbfounded, Ray can only look on at the tall, thin man laughing madly where he stands in front of her. He wears light, stained pants, and a dark sweatshirt with a black arrow motif. His head is covered by a hood. And in his left hand, he holds a large, grim reaper-like scythe – a scythe that he could probably easily kill a person with.

But she can’t see his face very well. For some reason, his face and skin are completely wrapped in thick, white bandages, as if to hide something.

…Who is this?

Unthinkingly, Ray takes a step back from this strange man.

“Just now, you were makin’ a pretty satisfied face.” Seeing her flinch backwards, the man sneers and laughs fearlessly.

And looks down at her, quite a bit shorter than himself, whilst saying –

“But now it’s full of despair…!”

With a voice so loud Ray feels as if her eardrums might break, the man approaches her a single step at a time. Rising to the surface of that man’s mind is Ray’s face, as she appeared when smiling toward the bird, and for some reason he appears to be having so much fun he just can’t help himself. It was at that precise moment, having seen that so-called satisfied face, that he clearly realised that Ray had been decreed the sacrifice.

…What?

At the word despair, the memory of a murder rises up within Ray’s heart, and her body stiffens. Yes, that spectacle…was surely nothing short of despairing.

But would I feel despair at the death of someone I don’t know…?

(I don’t know…I can’t remember.)

When she tries to remember something, a strange fear she can’t begin to comprehend seizes her, welling up from somewhere completely unknown.

“Right now, I’m gonna give ya three seconds! So try’n’run away! And cry, scream, beg for yer life! Show me more of that despair-filled face!”

The man laughs loudly as he stares intently into her clear blue eyes and her utterly bewildered expression.

She doesn’t quite understand what has happened or what is happening. The image of the bird, sliced cleanly in half, has been seared right into her eyelids.

“Three…”

But she has not the leisure to think about what is about to happen.

(I have to run…!)

With a gasp, as if coming back to herself, Ray turns her back on the man, and runs.

And in a single instant, she recalls the only place she might be able to hide, and makes a mad dash for that place.

▲▽

“…Hah? Where did that brat go…?”

Loud banging resounds throughout the floor as the man irritably kicks at the wooden boxes.

(That’s definitely the murderer those articles talked about…)

Ray had run to that factory-like room, where she now lays curled up like a cat in one of the large boxes, eyes squeezed shut tightly.

(…Well, I know she’s hidin’ somewhere…)

“Should I just destroy all of ‘em?”

(…!)

As he mutters to himself, Ray’s eyes unintentionally snap open.

(…God – )

All she can do right now is pray that she isn’t found by that man.

But it seems her prayers are in vain, for, just as he’d said, the man begins break every box in sight. The almost excited sounds reverberate throughout the room. And of course, she’s frighteningly aware that that will mean the box she’s hiding in, as well.

(…)

The man comes nearer, and Ray presses her hands against her mouth in order to not let out a single sound, reflexively flinching against the side of the box. However, perhaps because it’s located in his blind spot – the man doesn’t even attempt to slice through the box she is hiding in.

“Damnit, she’s not here! …I’m not gonna go easy on her when I find her!”

Outside the box that holds the trembling Ray, the man snarls this under his breath and, after mercilessly slashing a few more boxes, he turns and leaves.

As the loud sounds of his footsteps fade away, Ray opens the top of the box and carefully peers out to look at her surroundings, despite her fear.

(Did it leave…?)

She can’t see that man anymore.

(I have to leave before it finds me…)

If it catches me…it’ll probably kill me.

Ray sees dark blood radiating in all directions within her mind. And in that moment, she hears a soft peeping noise…that bird, that shouldn’t be able to cry out anymore – an auditory hallucination.

(Right, that little bird…)

I’ll go back to where it is…

▲▽

“…”

Gingerly, so as not to be found by that man, Ray creeps back to where she had left the bird. There, she finds the body lying in a pool of blood, split into two. It’s not breathing anymore – it’s almost as if it were a lie that it had been alive only a short time ago.

(How awful…)

“…Come here. I’ll take you with me.”

Ray gently picks the bird up into her hands. Though it’s become a bit stiff, it’s still soft and faintly warm. It reminds her a bit of cooling bread.

(I should at least bury you…)

Looking around, Ray notices a shovel leaning against the wall, as if it had been prepared especially for her. She immediately puts the bird down and picks up the heavy shovel, enthusiastically getting to work.

However, as she picks up the bird once more to place it into the hole she has unearthed, her mind suddenly wells up with a strange, uncomfortable sensation, almost like white noise.

No…

And, as Ray gazes at the bird, her blue eyes become so clear as if she sees the very edges of the world.

(…No…this bird is different…)

It wasn’t like this. It didn’t look like this. It wasn’t this pitiful.

As those words resound in her head, she stares at the bird with wide, clear eyes. This dreadful vision is not the same bird she had thought was adorable.

(…I have to fix you up to be like that bird.)

Her small hands quiver as she removes a sewing set from her purse. It’s the same sewing set she uses to make dolls.

“It’s okay, you won’t feel pain anymore…”

Smiling with just the corners of her lips, Ray matches up the halves of the bird together and strokes the feathers over and over, as if comforting the creature.

(…If you go to heaven like this, you won’t be able to fly.)

And anyway, that bird was cuter.

So,

“I’ll fix you up to be my bird – ”

She smiles yet again, just with the corner of her mouth, as she murmurs this. Then, with thread as white as the bird’s wings, she carefully begins to sew the bird back together. Though she had never been properly taught how to, she had always been good at sewing, ever since she was little. She is so fully concentrated on her work that it is as if she has left her body, as if she has entirely forgotten the dangerous circumstances she has found herself in. All Ray can focus on is diligently, attentively putting the bird back together. In a few minutes, it has returned to its original form, despite the seams.

“…See, you’re all better now.”

The bird is a bit colder than before. Gently stroking its head, Ray places it into the hole. She notices something glinting on the ground near it.

Wondering what it is, Ray picks it up, and sees that it is a card about the same size as a small ticket.

(Did someone drop it…?)

If that man had misplaced it – maybe it’s the elevator card key…

The precise moment she thinks this, there’s an ominous clanging sound of someone kicking an empty can.

(…! I have to find the exit, quickly…!)

She already understands what that sound indicates. Shoving the card into her jacket pocket, the girl quickly stands up. But in that instant, she hears loud, excited laughter. When she looks up, she sees that man standing upon the drainage pipes snaking around the walls. Jumping down, he stands as if to block her from the exit.

“I finally found ya…”

Beneath the thick bandages that cover his face, the man sneers a laugh in the same manner he had when he had first seen Ray. It seems her frightened appearance amuses him. The eyes she can see through the gaps in the bandages flare up brightly. And as he brandishes his scythe toward her and fills the air with his loud, devilish laughter, he yells out –

“This time, I’m not even gonna give ya one second…!”

“If you do not wish to be killed by this person, you must progress to the next floor.”

The final sentence of the graffiti she had seen earlier resurfaces in Ray’s mind.

(…I have to run. I have to get out of here…I have to get home…!)

After all, mom and dad are waiting for me…!

Though she thinks this, her legs are frozen in fear. For one moment, she sees her parents sitting on the sofa, holding one another’s hands tightly. Then the vision disappears.

“Now, show me your despair-filled face!!”

The girl who had stared at the bird so peculiarly as she stitched it up is no more. She stands there paralysed with fear as the man relentlessly raises his scythe.

(What do I do…?!)

It seems all is lost – and that is when she notices something that looks like a breaker on the wall behind her.

(Oh, maybe…)

Making a split-second decision, Ray rushes up to the breaker and presses every single button without an ounce of hesitation. And, just as she predicted, the lights go out, and the entire floor is enveloped in darkness.

“Hah?! What the hell, I can’t see anything…!”

The man sounds unbelievably irritated having had the thrill of the kill torn from him.

(I have to get out of here while I can…!)

Finally regaining control over herself, Ray sprints toward the dim green light above the emergency exit. She can faintly see the letters EV – that must be where the elevator is.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?!”

The man’s angry voice echoes through the darkness.

(He’s going to catch me…)

Panting, Ray runs with all the strength she possesses in her body.

She feels like she’s going to suffocate – everything goes white. Unintentionally, she thinks back on her parents. But as she flails her limbs wildly, those memories become fuzzy and indistinct, like clouds rolling over the moon.

Just barely reaching the EV door, she sees a slot precisely the right size for the card she had picked up earlier.

(It’s just as I thought – )

Ray quickly takes the card from her pocket and pushes it into the slot.

As the doors open, she can see elevator doors inside the passageway.

She throws herself into the elevator, assailed by a terrible dizziness, and unthinkingly presses on the button marked B5.

“Hah…haah…”

The doors close, shutting that man out behind them.

Gasping for breath harshly, the girl squeezes her eyes shut.

(What…was that…?)

Serial killer – the words she’d read in those newspaper articles rise to the surface of her mind and blur.

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Satsuriku no Tenshi Light Novel Volume 1 - B7

Satsuriku no Tenshi - Until Death Do Them Part - B7

Story by Makoto Sanada, written by Chiren Kina, illustrations by Negiyan, translations by me.

If you want to help out with translations, feel free to contact me!

Prologue | B7 | B6 | B5 | B4 (Part 1 / Part 2) | B3 (Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4) | Zack’s Memory || Index

Ray hears a bell ringing, as if it echoes from far off behind a barrier.

As she opens her strangely numb eyes, she realises that she is sitting on a chair. A hard, white chair. In front of her is a monopod, and another white chair, placed as if to be opposite her.

She has no idea where she is. It’s an inanimate, lifeless room. It almost looks like a counselling office. The room is so cold that she can see her breath.

(Where am I…?)

As she wonders this, Ray stands up from the chair and looks around.

(…)

However, the exact moment her mind became blank, she became amnesiac. She can’t remember anything. But she understands that this world is real. After all, unlike in a dream, she can go wherever she wants to.

(I must have been having a dream just now…)

She lets out a small sigh. So, she truly knows nothing about this world, other than the fact that it is reality. As if mesmerized, she finds herself wandering to the large window, and looks outside.

(…A blue full moon.)

On the other side of the window is a blue moon. It seems to shine unusually bright. Its size, its colour…all seem to point to it being projected there, as if on a screen.

(It looks kind of fake…)

A blue moon like that! That’s a pretty rare phenomenon…

At some point, her doctor had told her this.

(Doctor…?)

Who was her doctor…? Who, she wonders. She can’t really remember.

From beneath her eyelids, Ray can suddenly see someone in a white lab coat, walking away from her.

(A doctor…?)

It’s suddenly as if her memory has come back to life – her brain begins working again. With a gasp, she says, “That’s right…I came to the hospital.” Her voice leaks out without thinking.

(I came here to be examined…)

But I’m not sick…since I don’t feel pain anywhere. So why did I come to the hospital…?

(….)

Suddenly, she’s once again attacked by a terrible vertigo.

(I feel sick…)

“Come on, Ray, sit with us.” As she involuntarily crouches down with her eyes tightly shut, her mother’s voice echoes in her ears.

“I have to go to my mom and dad…”

As if called by that voice, she unsteadily staggers out of the room.

▲▽

…This isn’t the hospital I know.

She can’t remember why she came to the hospital. But, intuition tells her that something must have happened.

(Did someone take me to a different floor while I was asleep?)

The passageway ahead of her is paved with white tiles. It’s so dark that she can’t see too far ahead, but it’s clear there isn’t anyone else here. Still staggering slightly and lightheaded, the girl wanders down this ominous and strange corridor. Before long, she comes to a black lattice gate. There’s a small slot that looks as if it might be for a card.

Ray cautiously extends a hand to push against the gate, but it won’t open. When she tries to force it open, a beeping sound emits from the gate.

(I guess I need a card…)

The girl squints through the lattice, trying to see what lies on the other side of the gate. The lighting is dim, so she isn’t sure, but she thinks she can see an elevator.

(I want to go home…)

Thinking this to herself resolutely, she gazes ahead of her with a mysterious expression in her eyes. Her lips shut tightly. They are so dry they hurt, and her head spins as if she’s taken some kind of drug.

(I really do feel bad…)

Her field of vision wavers, as if she’s been trapped in some kind of illusion. Yet, once again, she begins walking down the hall again.

(Huh? There’s something…written on the wall…)

As soon as those peculiar words enter her field of vision, Ray finds herself completely unable to move, as if paralysed in place.

“Who are you? What are you?

“You must confirm this for yourself.

��Are you your true self, or your desired self?

“An angel, or a sacrifice?

“If you know yourself, the door will open.”

“…?”

The writing almost seems like a magic spell of some kind. A bit frightened, Ray shuffles backwards a few steps.

An angel, or a sacrifice.

(I am…)

Neither of them…?

As this answers drifts to the surface of her mind from her unconscious, she suddenly becomes aware that near the mysterious writing is a door very similar to that of the examining room she was in before. And, like a puppet with its strings being pulled, she opens the door.

▲▽

This room is strange and inorganic, just like the examination room. In the centre of the room is a large rectangular table, on top of which is a white computer. Ray ventures close to it and presses the on button on the keyboard.

(It won’t turn on…)

Is it broken…?

As she tilts her head to the side in wonderment, she suddenly feels as if someone is staring at her from the ceiling. Slowly, she looks upwards, and notices that multiple cameras are hung from the ceiling. And the cameras seem to be following her as she moves around the room.

(I have a bad feeling…)

I want to get to that elevator and go outside as soon as possible…

Ray walks around the table, looking to see if she can find the card to open that door

“The walls are transparent…”

The walls opposite to the entrance seem to be made of glass. Reflected in the centre is a girl. A girl with platinum blonde hair up to her waist, and a dainty, small stature.

(She’s expressionless…)

When Ray breathes, the girl in the mirror does as well. When Ray blinks, the girl mimics her.

“…It’s just me.”

It is, without a doubt, Ray.

(It looks like only this part of the wall is a mirror. But why didn’t I know it was me at first glance…?)

All at once, something like fear unsettles her heart – fear of not recognising her own form in the mirror, fear of having lost her memories.

Once more, as if to confirm she really is looking at herself, she takes a single step towards the mirror. In that moment, she hears a click sound, and the computer on the table turns on on its own. The very computer that had previously seemed to have no electrical power.

She quickly walks back to it. Numerous strings of ASCII letters appear and disappear on the black LCD screen at a frightening pace.

(Is this some sort of program…?)

As the girl stares intently, white letters appear on the screen.

Opening information file.

Enter data.

As if in tandem with the words on the screen, a bland voice begins to emit from the computer.

Please answer the following questions.

What is your name?

(My name…?)

“Ra…Rachel Gardner.” She responds as if only just remembering.

How old are you?

“…Thirteen.”

Why are you here?

“I came to the hospital…and before I knew what I was doing, I was here…”

Why?

“…?”

Why?

Why?

“…”

(I’m scared…)

The questions come so quickly that she has no way to possibly answer them. Ray’s expression twists in discomfort.

Why?

Why the hospital?

(Why…the hospital…)

For some reason, her heart beats painfully fast. Trying to control her breathing, Ray takes a deep breath and turns way from the computer.

(…A murder…)

Abruptly, fragments of memories surface within her mind, though Ray doesn’t know if these memories are real or not. She doesn’t even have a way to find out. But she doesn’t doubt the memories, either.

“I saw someone die…I saw someone get killed…right in front of me…” Her eyes are wide open as she whispers this, as if she had witnessed that hideous sight happen just a few moments ago. The killer and the person who were killed are surely people she doesn’t know. After all, she can’t remember their faces. The only thing she can clearly remember is a man straddling a woman’s body, stabbing her with a kitchen knife.

“That’s why I went for counselling…” Suddenly, Ray feels as if she can see herself, undergoing a counselling session. The room is so white and clean, it almost looks like heaven. In front of her stands her counsellour, a doctor who wears glasses. The doctor stares intensely at Ray, smiling gently, gazing into her blue eyes as if they might tell him of the end of the world.

What would you like to do today?

The computer asks her this in the same way the doctor had once.

“…I want to leave this place. I want to see my mom and dad,” Ray answers, thinking about her family.

Entry complete.

Distributing the play start card.

With these final words, the computer screen splutters and goes pitch black.

(…?)

Ray presses the on button again. But it doesn’t do anything. A card emerges from the side of the computer.

(This is definitely the card for that door…)

Ray takes the card runs toward the door as if  to flee the room.

▲▽

When Ray inserts the card into the door’s slot, she hears a low beep, and the door opens. She advances through the doorway and finds that there really is an elevator there.

She presses the up button and runs into the elevator when its doors open. As she reaches to press the buttons that operate the elevator, she notices the indicator states that the current floor is B7.

(B7…? That’s weird…I don’t think the place I was before was underground…)

And there’s only a button…for B6. I don’t remember precisely, but I feel like there wasn’t even a button to go down outside, either…

It’s at that moment that a sound resonates within the elevator. It’s almost like a church bell. The voice that follows is a feminine, emotionless, hopelessly mechanical one.

The girl on the lowest level has become a sacrifice.

Everyone, please prepare your floors.

The play area begins from here. The gate will now open.

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Satsuriku no Tenshi Light Novel Volume 1 - Prologue

Satsuriku no Tenshi - Until Death Do Them Part - Prologue

Story by Makoto Sanada, written by Chiren Kina, illustrations by Negiyan, translations by me.

If you want to help out with translations, feel free to contact me!

Prologue | B7 | B6 | B5 | B4 (Part 1 / Part 2) | B3 (Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4) | Zack’s Memory || Index

The world is always dim and blue.

I think that that’s definitely because of these blue eyes of mine. That’s why I see the world like this.

(Father and mother are getting along today, as well.)

Whenever I’m at home, father and mother sit on the sofa, holding each other’s hands tightly as if they can’t bear to ever be apart. They don’t move at all – it’s like they’ve been turned into dolls.

I gaze upon that happy scene from the entrance to the room.

“Come on, Ray, sit with us.” Mother calls my name with a smile.

My father’s eyes are black; I inherited my blue eyes from my mother. But my eyes are a little different from hers. Her eyes are murky, as if clouded by dirty water. I wonder when it was that mother’s eyes became muddy…I can’t remember.

“Okay.”

Staring intently at those clouded eyes, I give a small nod, and make to rush toward them. But no matter how hard I run, I can’t budge even an inch from the doorway.

(Why…?)

Short of breath, I crouch down where I stand. The word despair piles up in my chest.

“Ray, what’s wrong?” My father, who always sits in the same position on the sofa, asks me this in a kind voice without any hostility.

“I can’t go there,” I answer my father as he stares at me with his black eyes.  They look like buttons.

In that moment –

Suddenly, I become unbearably dizzy. It’s like someone’s painted the inside of my brain pure white.

Ring…ring…

(What’s happening…?)

Somewhere, I hear a bell ringing.

As if it’s sounding out from beneath a pool of water…

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