Editing Kamisu Reina:Volume 2 Ryoji Kamisu (section)

===2===

"Whose shoes are those...?" I mutter as I spot unfamiliar leather shoes on entering my home.

"Ah, welcome home Ryoji-san," a woman says as she hurries to me. She, Sakairi-san, is not my mother but an employee who has kept the house for our family for twenty years.

"Hello, Sakairi-san," I reply and take off my shoes.

Twenty years; that's the same amount of time as I have lived so far. In other words, her first job here was to look after me when I was still a baby—which effectively makes her my second mother, since my true mother shuffled off all the hard labor as a housewife to Sakairi-san.

Likewise, she was also Reina's second mother.

In fact, when I saw her crying at Reina's funeral ceremony, it occurred to me that she might actually be the person who mourned for Reina the most and accepted her death before anyone else.

Our family members treated Reina as someone special, but what about Sakairi-san? No one else had seen more of Reina's mundane sides than Sakairi-san, who changed Reina's diapers and emptied her trash bin. Perhaps, she actually thought of Reina as a normal person.

As such, she was bound to be saddened by Reina's passing.

Suddenly, Sakairi-san cuts off my train of thought: "Ah right, I should tell you that a former friend of Reina-san is here."

I drop my gaze to my feet and look at the unfamiliar shoes again.

Sakairi-san was by no means the only person who cried at Reina's funeral ceremony; mother teared up as well—although I can't say the same for father—and so did many of the students from her school, sobbing and weeping. So many tears were shed that day, in fact, that it could have rained.

I must have been the only one who was not concerned with her death.

"Come to see Reina's altar, I take it?"

"Yes."

Leaving behind an indifferent <i>uh-huh</i>, I start to walk to my room upstairs. However...

"Would you mind saying hello to her, Ryoji-san?" Sakairi-san suddenly suggests.

"Huh? Why?"

"I already bid her welcome, of course, but I'm afraid that it might be considered impolite if no one from the family welcomed her."

"But why me...? What about mother?"

I quickly regret my remark. It has only been five days since Reina's death and mother has sunk into depression. I don't know if it's because she lost her daughter or because she lost a piece of splendid art, though.

At any rate, <i>that's</i> what happens when pampered little princesses grow up under a shield of protection. It's really bothersome.

But I'm sure this won't last for long; everything will be back to normal within a month or so. Even while mourning, she won't just stop eating and defecating, and she probably won't miss out on the next lesson at the ballroom dancing school that she has taken to visiting. Before long she will have forgotten to be sad, since such feelings have to be locked away when dealing with our everyday chores. We are conditioned to by our society.

Therefore, feelings serve no purpose to begin with.

I wonder, though, if our parents would be just as sad if I were the one who died ... which is a stupid question. The answer is obvious.

<u>As if they would care.</u>

"...Fine, fine. She's by the alter, right?"

"Yes."

"I'll go greet her. I'm sure you already served her some tea?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"I expected no less."

With these words, I get on my way to our Japanese-style room and walk through the unnecessarily long corridor of the house.


When I pushed aside the sliding door, I found a girl gazing at the photograph at Reina's altar.

In her eyes I recognize something that's neither sadness nor despair. Uh-huh, she's one of <i>those</i>. Well, in Reina's case that's perfectly possible even if she went to an all-girls school.

The girl was simply <u>enraptured</u> by the photograph of Reina.

That's a common reaction. The same happened to some of the business associates of my father who had to attend her funeral: the instant they saw the picture, they were so charmed that they forgot to act mournfully for a moment.

"Ah..." the girl gasps nervously as she notices that someone witnessed her enchanted gaze. I play dumb in response and greet her instead.

"Hello," she returns. "Are you Reina-san's ... brother?"

"Well, yes."

That fact alone was enough to gain her respect. Well, well, if my sister's influence isn't amazing. She's pretty—maybe I should look out for a chance to sleep with her?

"What's your name?"

"My name...? I'm Sakura Kawai," she answers with her eyes fixed upon me. "Excuse me, but you don't happen to ... have picked up my name somewhere?"

"Huh?"

"I've taken over the position of president of the student council from Reina-san. So I thought that she might have ... mentioned me at some point ... perhaps."

"Hm ... I'm afraid not."

"I see..." Kawai-san mutters with blatant disappointment. She must have concluded that she wasn't important enough to Reina to be worth a mention.

"See, Reina never talked about others."

"She didn't...?"

"Yeah."

My excuse was enough to make her smile again. What a simpleton.

It's true that Reina hardly ever talked about others, though. In fact,  I don't remember ever hearing anything about her reputation at school.

...Hm, why don't I grasp the opportunity and ask the girl before me? Well, her reputation was obviously mostly positive looking at this girl.

"What kind of person was Reina at school?"

"A wonderful person," Kawai-san replies without missing a beat.

"...Wonderful in what way?"

"I can't explain it. Everything she did was wonderful ... at any rate, she was my ... no, our guide, our goal, our ideal."

"..."

I was prepared for a favorable opinion, but Kawai-san's turned out far more intensive than expected. Her eyes were glittering with adoration—and even struck me as void—as she spoke about Reina. You could almost think she was a—"worshipper" of sorts.

On the other hand, I can somewhere understand her. If Reina doesn't appear human even to her family, then she could definitely make a godlike impression on unrelated people. Even more so in the case of the Junseiwa school: all-girls, for wealthy people, and on top of that, a high percentage of the students seem to be staying at the dorm. I can't fathom what effect Reina must have had on a school with such a highly unified value system.

Suddenly, I recall my conversation with Reina and feel a shudder run down my spine.

"...Kawai-san?"

"Yes?"

"You weren't there when Reina jumped off the roof, right?"

I quickly regret my question. Kawai-san is Reina's "worshipper" and I figured that confronting her with the death of her idol is rather cruel.

However, my fears prove ungrounded. In a perfectly composed manner, the girl  replies, "No, I haven't been there." Relieved that she is apparently not as fanatic as expected, I ask another question:

"Then ... do you think that Reina committed suicide?"

During my conversation with Reina, I concluded that she would die of murder, but that assessment might have been wrong after all. If she was aware of my indifference to others–and thus indifference to her suicide–that would have enabled her to deliberately mislead me into thinking of murder.

But <i>why</i> would she do that in the first place?

What if my initial assessment wasn't wrong? What if she was killed and didn't commit suicide?

As a matter of fact, these fears seem to be grounded when looking at the Junseiwa school. Perhaps, her idolized image developed a life of its own?

Oh, what an absurd thought. I'm such an idiot. If that were really true—


"Reina-san did not commit suicide."


Kawai-san replied to my question and interrupted my train of thought.

"Huh...?"

"As I said, Reina-san did not commit suicide!"

"D-Don't be silly! That would mean that dozens of people are lying about witnessing the scene of her suicide!"

Exactly. That fact clashes with my assessment of murder.

Kawai-san, however, asks bluntly:

"Do you think that's impossible?"

"...Impossible?"

"Do you really think it's impossible that dozens of <u>Junseiwa students</u> would lie about Reina-san's death?"

I gasp.

The present condition at Junseiwa is an unknown to me, and yet I was able to easily envision her as a special individual to the students at the school. That's why I started to suspect murder.

<u>But what if reality exceeded my imagination?</u>

"Dear brother of Reina-san, listen. She is absolute to us. Can you follow me? <u>Absolute.</u> Things like common sense, good sense and the law don't matter when Reina-san is involved."

The Junseiwa school is a detached domain. On top of that, females are highly adaptive and skilled at building up their own little community.

<u>What are the implications of throwing Reina Kamisu into that mix?</u>

"<u>At our school, Reina-san made the rules.</u>"

Yeah, right. That's what happens.

"I'm sure you understand now, right?" she asks. "Our students will happily make false statements as long as Reina-san wills it."

"...Wait! <i>If Reina wills it?</i> Do you mean that Reina made you kill her? No, in this case it means she made you help her with her suici–"

"What are you talking about...?"

"...Hm?"

"Who said that Reina-san was killed?"

"Huh?"

Kawai-san pulls her lips to a smirk, and makes me realize that her level of "worship" is indeed fanatic. 

The girl opens her mouth again.


"<u>Reina-san isn't dead.</u>"


How terribly deluded she is. Kawai-san has come to a silly conclusion just because she doesn't want to accept Reina's death.

However—

—<u>Is she the only one who came to this conclusion?</u>



<i>"<u>——is Reina Kamisu really dead?</u>"</i>



Is this just a coincidence? Was Reina so unearthly that she could give us both the same impression?

Or <u>is it simply the truth</u>?

At any rate, I decide to ask for Kawai-san's opinion.

"Kawai-san ... you're being absurd. Then who on earth is that person that was cremated and buried six feet under?"

"I don't know. But dear brother ... have you seen the body?"

"...I haven't."

"See?"

"...No, you can't gloss it over like that. The students at Junseiwa may lie for Reina, but the police staff that examined her body do not," I argue.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that."

"What?"

"We have quite a few students with politically active parents or with parents who work at the police. They could apply pressure."

"...I doubt those parents would listen to their daughters just like that."

"We also have money. And ... well, we are young and pretty. It shouldn't be impossible to bribe one or the other examiner with those means, don't you think?"

"...What about her corpse? You can't tell me that you'd kill someone who looks similar just to replace her. You wouldn't go that far even if she—"

"But we would. I told you that she is the <i>absolute</i> rule to us and exceeds good sense and the law, didn't I?" the girl says with iron determination.

...I mustn't let her deceive me. It might be true that Reina would not be incapable of feigning her own death.

But that's only hypothetical.

The likelihood isn't zero, but the number is so small that it can be considered mathematically irrelevant and can be reduced to zero. 

On the other hand, I can't deny the fact that I also wondered <u>why Reina would go out of her way to commit suicide at the Junseiwa school</u>.

"Your reasoning is all over the place, Kawai-san, but I do get your point. But let's be honest here: you arrived at this explanation because you can't believe Reina is dead, right?"

"Yes, I suppose."

"Why did you think Reina isn't dead? Did she tell you that she wouldn't die, or something?"

"..." Kawai-san seems to be at a loss for words at first. At last, she continues: "No. I simply noticed."

As I expected. Kawai-san has merely built a logic around her delusions.

However, the next thing she says rattles me.

"A former enemy of mine, who is also a subordinate of Reina-san's, was also aware of the fact that Reina-san isn't dead. Ironically, she is the one who pointed it out to me. After giving it some thought, I also realized that Reina-san can't be dead."

"..."

Kawai-san and I are not the only ones who came to that conclusion?

"Fine, fine! That's enough!" I shout, unable to suppress my irritation.

"...Excuse me. It might have been inappropriate to say these things to a relative of hers," Kawai-san says while hanging her head.

"Yeah, I've heard enough. In fact, you didn't even need to tell me. I was already certain of it."

"Huh...?"

At last, I admit it.



"Reina Kamisu is alive."



The likelihood is zero. And even when taking Reina's exceptionalness into account, the likelihood stays infinitely close to zero.

However, the very fact that Reina was born into this world is an even greater miracle. A miracle atop of a miracle is nothing to be surprised about. Both things have a 0 chance of occurring. They're absurd. If one impossible thing happens, then everything that occurs afterwards can be considered just as impossible and therefore there is no need to be surprised. No matter how many miracles occur, in the end it's just one miracle.



<i>"<u>Metaphorically.</u>"</i>



Reina told me figuratively that she would die. She did that, because it was the only way to express what was going to happen and what did happen. 

In the end, she still has us all in her palm of her hand.

Reina is trying to achieve something by dying socially, by vanishing off the face of the earth. However, the question of her goal is far above me.

But there is one thing that I do know.

If things are going according to Reina's plan—then it's only a matter of time until everything falls into place.