Editing Hyouka:Volume 6 6 (section)

=== 4. ===

As I left the waiting room, I could hear some sort of commotion from the entrance hall in the distance. It was the area right before the hallway, where Ibara had gone to check once more.

Although I had come to search the building’s every nook and cranny for her, there wasn’t much time left. Perhaps something had come up, and she had to leave. Ibara saw me standing in front of the waiting room and her brow furrowed a bit.

“You’re still here?”

Without giving me time to respond, she continued.

“Still, this is perfect. Fuku-chan just called to tell me that he’s leaving school and wanted to know if there was anything he could do. I told him I was going to ask you, then get back to him.”

This was a welcome request. Satoshi was a sensible person, so I could trust him with finding information.

“Let’s see...”

We had talked previously about the library and Castle Gardens, so one option would be to have him check those two places, and yet, honestly speaking, I felt like it was gamble with low chances of success. I looked at my wristwatch, and it read a little before 4:00. We would start to feel the crunch soon. I couldn’t afford to use this precious mobility on something pointless like that.

There was something that had been tugging at the back of my mind. I couldn’t exactly shape that thought into coherent sentences yet, but rather than having him run around Kamiyama City to bet on a gamble with chances as thin as paper, I could see continuing this line of thought possibly paying out.

“Have him go to the station.”

“Kamiyama Station?!”

Ibara’s voice was almost in hysterics. “What do I tell him to do there?”

Nothing really, I wasn’t planning on having him go on some kind of trip.

“Rather than the station, I want him to go to the bus center that’s connected to it. I want him to get a route map and timetable and bring it here.”

Ibara opened her mouth as if wanting to say something. There was no doubt she wanted to know why, however her expression stiffened as if she revised her thoughts, and she bit her tongue.

“A route map and timetable. I understand,” she nodded, “How will he deliver it?”

“I’ll be waiting at the entrance. It’s crowded there, but it should be fine.”

“Okay.”

While saying this, she pulled out her cellphone. Satoshi apparently picked up after a couple seconds, and Ibara then relayed my request over the line.

The call finally ended, and Ibara started talking to me once more, phone still in hand.

“He said he’ll be here in 15 minutes.”

Even if you came here straight from Kamiyama High School, it’d probably take more than 15 minutes, and he wasn’t coming straight here. He was also going to stop at the station for me; there was no way he’d make it in time. He might’ve been trying to express how much he’d be hurrying, but I would have felt terrible if he had ended up getting into an accident because of me.

“Could you text him to not be reckless in coming here?”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“I was only half done looking around when I came back, so I’ll finish my search of the building. If I still can’t find her after that, I’m thinking I’ll go search in the nearby park, too. Don’t worry about me; just do what you need to do.”

I had no other choice. After all, I didn’t have a cellphone, so I wouldn’t be able to coordinate my efforts with her.

“I understand. See you, then.”

I headed to the first floor, leaving Ibara as she started to type out her message.

Although the Ejima Choir Festival started at 2:00, the entrance hall was still packed. Since there were a ton of choir groups participating, maybe the place was filling with people who arrived just in time to watch their friends perform. I guess that meant that new people were constantly arriving, didn’t it?

As I stood in the center of the black marble floor of the entrance hall, I scanned all around me just to confirm that Chitanda wasn’t there.

She was supposedly wearing a white shirt and black skirt. There were plenty of people whose clothes matched that description, but none of them even slightly resembled Chitanda. Well, I suppose if she were here, she’d return to the waiting room by herself without any need for me to worry.

I hadn’t noticed it previously, but there were some Ejima Choir Festival pamphlets stacked up on the information counter. I took one to kill time as I waited for Satoshi. I went to the entranceway and stood in the most conspicuous location in front of the large signboard reading “Ejima Choir Festival,” and then opened the pamphlet.

The pamphlet itself was cream-colored and printed on glossy paper. The Ejima Choir Festival start time was clearly indicated as being 2:00, but nothing was written about the ending time. Perhaps it was like that so they could extend or shorten it in case of any unforeseen issues; maybe they had some other reason. The thought crossed my mind that it would make it difficult for the guests to plan their dinner.

The text introducing the participating choir groups was very small. The majority of the page was dedicated to the lyrics of Sandou Ejima pieces. I hadn’t heard of Sandou Ejima until Satoshi had first mentioned him, but it seems like he lived quite some time ago. All of the words seemed archaic. The pamphlet had on it which group was performing which piece, so I searched for the one being done by Chitanda’s group, the Kamiyama Mixed Chorus.

“This one, huh.”

It was a piece titled “Moon Over Release.”

I wonder if no one warned him it sounded like that famous Rentarou Taki composition.<ref>Rentarou Taki (1879-1903) is considered one of Japan's most famous composers, and Houtarou is referring here to his popular song, "Moon Over the Ruined Castle."</ref>

I went ahead and read the lyrics out of boredom.



<i>Moon Over Release</i>



What a beautiful voice, that of the caged bird!

Although I contemplate the virtue of release,

A figure of this fleeting world can never attain eternity.

Ah, I pray once more. I, too, strive

To live in the unrestricted skies.

I release ye, o' caged bird.



How lovely the fish in a tank is.

Although I contemplate the virtue of release,

A figure of this fleeting world can never attain eternity.

Ah, I pray once more. I, too, strive

To die in the unrestricted seas.

I release ye, o' trapped fish.



“...I’m not sure I get it.”

Unfortunately, I hadn’t an ounce of poetic sentiment. Regardless of my opinion on the work, I suppose I should at least keep in mind the kind of song they’d be singing. It looked like they’d be performing one more piece, but I couldn’t find anything about it other than the name, not that it mattered; it was a famous pop song—so famous that even I knew it. It had something to do with everyone living in harmony, or something like that.

I rolled up the pamphlet into a tube in my right hand and started to hit it against my left palm. As I produced a steady, hollow rhythm, my gaze absentmindedly wandered towards the small area in front of the entryway.

From what I could see outside the glass doors, the clouds had all but vanished; an intense sunlight was shining down from above. An elderly woman carrying a sun umbrella walked in while wiping her sweat, and then suddenly smiled. I wondered what on earth had caused that, but then realized she had to have been overjoyed by a sudden rush of air conditioning. From what I could tell, the air conditioning in the entrance couldn’t have been very effective; it has to travel all the way down to the entrance from the third floor. Even from here, most of the room felt unaffected. Well, it was probably preferable to being outside, at least.

“Hm?”

I suddenly noticed something interesting about that elderly woman.

She had on a black skirt and white shirt and carried a small shoulder bag over her dark blue jacket. Since her clothing matched Chitanda’s, I figured this woman wasn’t a guest; rather, she was a member of the choir group. I had no idea if this was true or not, but I was strangely curious about it.

A skirt, a shirt, a jacket, a shoulder bag, a sun umbrella. Air conditioning and a smile.

“Oh.”

That’s right.

“A sun umbrella.”

In the cultural center’s entranceway were a number of umbrella stands lined up next to each other. There were also umbrella stands lined up next to the wall in the entrance hall—probably since the entrance area alone didn’t have enough space to hold 1600 peoples’ umbrellas. The elderly lady, however, continued to hold onto her umbrella as she ascended the stairs.

I suddenly had a realization and headed over to the information counter. Behind it was the same pleasant lady as before.

“Are you looking for something?” she asked.

“This might be a strange question.”

“Of course, I’ll help you in any way I can.”

No matter how you looked at it, I was clearly just a high schooler; there was no need for her to be so polite. What a difficult job, I thought.

“Are the choir performers not allowed to use the umbrella stands at the entrance?”

I thought it was an undeniably strange question to ask, but the clerk responded without a hint of hesitation: “That’s correct. In order to leave as much room as possible for the guests, we’ve asked them to use the umbrella stands provided in the waiting rooms.”

“Okay, thank you very much.”

“Of course. If you have any further questions, please feel free to ask.”

After hearing that impeccably polite response, I felt guilty for some strange reason and turned to leave the counter. With this information, I now understand the reason that the elderly lady earlier didn’t leave her umbrella in the stands out front.

"..."

With this, I became a little closer to finding out where Chitanda had gone. At the very least, it wasn’t <i>there</i>...

I walked back towards the “Ejima Choir Festival” signboard, and decided to think about it a little more. But on the way there, a voice called out, interrupting my return.

“I won’t tell you to look up, but you could at least look in front of you, Houtarou!”

In the place where I had been just until recently stood Satoshi, absolutely drenched in sweat.

“Hey.”

As I said this, I looked down at my watch. It read 4:14. It had truly been 15 minutes since he had talked with Ibara earlier. We even told him to not be reckless.

“That was fast.”

“Was it? Anyways, here’s your order.”

The bus timetable and route map were both printed on glossy paper, folded in his hands.

“Sorry to make you do this for me.”

“No problem, ‘twas but a simple matter.”

His expression then became serious.

“I heard about the situation from Mayaka. She said Chitanda disappeared?”

“That seems to be the case.”

“She wasn’t at the school. At the very least her shoes weren’t in the school’s entrance. Still, this is really troubling.”

“Uh huh.”

It was a half-hearted response; I was focused on reading the timetable.

“Chitanda-san ended up going somewhere in this town and doesn’t have a cellphone on her. I mean sure, I know a place or two that she might go, but there’s no time to check them all one by one. Houtarou, the scale is a bit too big this time, and I’m feeling a little like my hands are tied behind my back right now.”

I didn’t have enough information to completely examine the timetable that he’d brought for me. As expected, the number of buses that passed through Jinde was small, and it looked like there was only one running at 1:00 in the afternoon. I nodded once and then folded up the timetable once more.
Satoshi wiped the sweat dripping down his face with his hand, and then continued.

“I really am sorry, but I have something l need to take care of, so I’m going to need to leave soon. But c’mon: It’s Chitanda we’re talking about. I don’t think there’s any need to worry… Right, Houtarou? Wait, have you just figured out something about where she might be?”

“Something like that.”

As I said this, Satoshi’s eyes grew wide. I guess he didn’t expect me to say that.

“Wha—wait, what?! Do you actually know where she is right now?”

“I wouldn’t be telling the truth if I said I knew the exact answer… but I do have something in mind. I have a lead, at least.”

If I’m right, however, the real problem will be what happens after finding her.

I checked my watch. There was 1 hour and 40 minutes until her solo performance.



What Satoshi said had truth to it.

To find the missing Chitanda by searching every nook and cranny of Kamiyama City would require more than a week. Since an exhaustive search would be no good, it was necessary to adopt an efficient method, one which minimizes time and energy spent. It’s a method that was probably simpler than Satoshi was imagining.

And yet...

“So what are you going to do?”

He asked this directly to my face, making it difficult to respond. I wouldn’t say I was the type of person to really care about what others thought of me, but if I were to confidently say something like, “This is what we should do,” before being certain, even I would get a little embarrassed if the plan didn’t work out.

“Well, I’m not really certain yet...”

I responded with a poor attempt at dodging his question and then tried to forcefully change the topic completely with my own well-timed question that I had wanted to ask anyways.

“By the way, was Sandou Ejima really that famous—to the point where he was called one of the Four Something-or-other Heavenly Kings?”

I’m sure Satoshi was fully aware that I was trying to pull the conversation away from Chitanda, but he responded as if he didn’t seem to mind.

“I guess I might’ve exaggerated it a little, but even if you factor my love of local cultures into how I described them earlier, the fact that Hakushuu, Ujou, and the like were unrivaled was still true, in my opinion.”

“So you’re saying that calling it an exaggeration... is an exaggeration itself?”

Satoshi silently shrugged in response. I opened the pamphlet I picked up earlier from the reception desk.

“It looks like Chitanda’s going to be singing this ‘Moon Over Release’ song.”

“Is that so?”

Satoshi threw a quick glance at the lyrics, nodding with a strangely satisfied expression. “That’s right. I don’t really know that much on the subject, but this is classic Sandou Ejima.”

“Oh yeah? Why is it ‘classic’ Ejima?”

“If I had to describe it, I’d say it’s because it’s excessively preachy.”

I see, it’s preachy. Without realizing it, I was nodding vigorously. It was truly cathartic to have been given the perfect word to describe the thoughts I had when initially reading it.

“Things like filial piety, diligence, honesty—his works were always dedicating to devoutly praising these kinds of values. The man himself was originally a monk, and it was written in a book I read once that his brotherly life may have been where the preachy quality came from. That might be why he was such a big deal, well, at least to the people who knew about him.”

“And now we even have a festival named after him.”

He smiled back, his expression containing a hint a cynicism.

“Choirs usually have periodic performances. That’s just the kind of group they are. If you’re going to hold an event, you might as well attach a cool-sounding name to it. I can understand where they’re coming from on that front.”

I couldn’t sympathize personally, but if I imagined it was Satoshi instead, I’d understand completely.

Satoshi glanced down at his watch. His eyebrows knitted slightly.

“I have to go now. I swear... I got myself tied up with something really annoying.”

He really did want to help me in spite of his business. I could readily tell that’s what his words implied.

“Don’t worry about it. So, what do you have to do?”

“The thing is—“

It seemed like he didn’t have much time, but he leaned in to complain anyways. I guess he really wanted to get it off his shoulders and vent.

“My cousin and his wife are coming over. The nephew is such a pain.”

“Your cousin’s kid is also your nephew?”

“It’s called something like a cousin twice removed, but I just call him my nephew. He really likes shogi, so he’s going to pester me to play with him.”

I never would’ve thought that Satoshi couldn’t play shogi, especially considering he always tried everything out. Oh, wait, that’s not true at all. He was actually really good at shogi, if I remember correctly. One night, on a study trip in middle school, he played a game against one of our classmates who always bragged about placing third in a city tournament—and won.

“What’s wrong with playing him then?”

“He cries whenever I win, and doesn’t want to stop playing until he does instead. He’ll even skip dinner.”

“That’s pretty annoying.”

Satoshi shook his head.

“I don’t really mind that part. All I have to do is let him win.”

I knew Satoshi when he was in middle school. I knew the part of him that would go to any lengths necessary for victory; he would abuse loopholes in the rules or let a game become stale and boring as long as it would lead to his victory. That said, I also knew the part of him that would go against his own beliefs, discarding any part of his personality, in a heartbeat.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“If I don’t say ‘I give up,’ he calls me a coward and screams bloody murder.”

In shogi, you lose if you end up in a situation where you king will be taken no matter what you do, but you can forfeit before it comes to that. As far as I know, saying “I give up” is the most common way to communicate your surrender.

“Because I’m only playing to appease him, I’ll let him checkmate me; but he won’t let me off with a simple ‘your win’ or ‘you beat me.’ I mean it’s a checkmate, so there’s really nothing to say.”

“Do you really hate saying ‘I give up’ that much?”

Satoshi face changed to a somewhat pained expression.

“I can’t help but think: ‘How about you make me say it by <i>actually</i> beating me with your own skill.’ I’m really bad at saying things I don’t believe in. It’s honestly just a problem with the choice of words, and even he has a point, but—I don’t know. I guess it just means I’m still immature.”

This wasn’t the kind of conversation we should be having while our remaining time was ticking away with every moment, but I couldn’t help myself from smiling bitterly at that.

“I completely understand. I was at a relative’s wedding a while back, and I—“

It was a Christian-style wedding. I had entered the church wearing a stiff-collared school uniform and listened to the reverend’s sermon—

Hmm…

I suddenly started to feel like something was lingering on the tip of my tongue. I couldn’t really put it into words, but just as I was about to put my finger on it, the thought came and was then washed away, as if a wave carried it back to sea. What was it, I wonder? What was it about a game of shogi and a wedding ceremony that brought something so vividly to my mind?

“So that’s why I have to leave, Houtarou.”

His voice brought me back to my senses.

“Hm? Yeah, okay.”

“I’m asking you to find Chitanda. I’m really sorry I can’t help you at a time like this.”

“It’s fine.”

As I was still collecting my thoughts, I added on the spur of the moment, “Leave the rest to me.” Satoshi’s eyes widened and he cracked a little smile.

“Got it. I’ll leave it to you—I mean, in the end, the only one who’d be able to find the hidden Chitanda would probably be you anyways.”