Editing Kamisu Reina:Volume 1 Atsushi Kogure (section)

===5===
I started to wander around aimlessly after I had left Kimura's home.

Everything was a lie, the truth, and cruel reality.

The past, the here and now, and the future exist all <b>here</b> simultaneously, and all of them turned out to be tormenting me.

My wound aggravates even more.

It hurts.

But there's no blood to spill anymore—there's not a single drop left.

I've dwindled. Entirely.

I'm dried up like dust, and what little is left of me could easily be wiped away.

As I look up at the colorful, dazzling sky, I recall Kimura's suicide note.



<i>"Mother, father, and all who have known me: please forgive me for leaving so soon.

Now that I hold my pen, I don't know what to write anymore. Even though I pondered quite a while about it before.

For starters, let me write why I killed myself.

It was not until I troubled a certain girl and drove her into suicide that I decided in the real sense to commit suicide myself.

I will not write the details of what I did to her. Every time I call back the memories, my heart feels like a rag being squeezed out.

While that event was the last straw, however, I had been thinking of suicide before.

There is no meaning in my life.

No one needs me and no one ever will, although I'm sure you will all deny it.

But in the end, I still think that it all boils down to the fact that I'm worthless. It may be a bad simile, but I think I'm somewhat like your favorite pencil: it hurts a bit if it goes lost, but you can easily buy a new one in the supermarket around the corner.

That's why I think that the only way I can atone for driving someone into suicide is to end my own worthless life as well.

You were kind-hearted. We talked, even though you were already dead. Maybe I was just having an illusion, but you forgave me.

And that's exactly why I have to punish myself.

I have to atone for the sin of tormenting someone as kind and forgiving as you.

Let me apologize once more for what I did.

I am awfully sorry,—&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"</i>



I reread these words over and over, but they didn't change no matter how many times and from what angle I read them. 


<i>"I am awfully sorry, Reina Kamisu-san.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"</i>


I recall what Mizuhara said to me.

<i>"A ghost cursed them to death."</i>

And then I finally recall <u>whose name Saito called for help</u>.



At last, I found myself at the place where I'd first seen her—the shopping district by the station. As I lean against the wall, I decide to wait for her.

There's no guarantee that she will appear, but I have a hunch that she will if I keep waiting.

I search my pockets and take out the envelope I have stuffed in there before I dashed out of my home.

Why didn't I call my aunt <i>mom</i>?

In fact, there is no problem with that in itself. The problem is that I would consequently have to call my uncle <i>dad</i> as well, since I can't just change one side and leave the other as is. Needless to say, the reason why I don't want to call him that way is <i>not</i> because I don't like him as much as I like my aunt.

I look at the envelope.

It's addressed at "Atsushi Kogure," while the sender is written to be "Takashi Kogure" on the backside. Right, that's <u>the name of my dad</u>.

<u>And the postmark's date is the tenth of last month.</u>



"Were you looking for me again?"

I raise my head and couldn't contain a smile. I am looking at a smile that is as absurdly beautiful as ever.

"Exactly!" I reply.

"What do you want?"

"I want to confirm something. And I have a request."

"Okay, ask away and make sure of whatever that is."

I stuff the envelope in my pocket again and ask, "It was you who killed my family, right?"

"That's right."

"It was also you who killed my father, right?"

"Obviously."

"Which means that <u>it can't have been my father who killed my family, right?</u>"

Reina Kamisu's eyes widen in surprise. And with absolute certainty, she replies:

"Of course it wasn't him."

I look closely at her. Naturally, there's no sign of deception to be found in her face.

"Would you mind... listening to my silly musings for a moment?" I ask her.

"Go ahead."

"Let's pretend for a moment that not you but my father killed my family," I start.

"Now that's a bizarre thought."

"His motive for attacking us wouldn't be something as incomprehensible as yours, I'm sure, but something clear. Something clichéd like, for example, financial difficulties that made him attempt to commit family suicide."

"It's a shame that it wasn't him."

"Huh?"

"I mean, you wanted a reason, didn't you? You'd have one in that case, no?"

Indeed, I wanted one. However—

"I don't care."

I don't care. I don't think I would want to know the reason if it were such a cheap one. I wouldn't want to learn that our family was destroyed by a foolish thing like that.

If that hypothesis were true, I'd certainly wish—

—<u>that that reason didn't exist in the first place.</u>

I would certainly try to ignore the truth right before my eyes, and seek refuge in my dreams. I would make one up where someone else murders my family. Someone who's a monster and doesn't have a proper reason to kill.

Someone like—the beautiful girl here.

However, no matter how fake the culprit is—

"—I don't care. The fact that my family was killed won't change, no matter who was the culprit. <u>After all, it's impossible to pacify the feelings of someone whose family was murdered, and my wound will never heal up.</u> Right?"

Reina Kamisu gazes closely at me.

"Perhaps," she finally answers.

"You said it. Then what is it that I would seek? Let me tell you: a resting place, where I wouldn't be wounded, where I wouldn't have to suffer anymore. I would definitely seek a place to rest like that," I say and look into her eyes.

"—So?"

"Hm?"

"You're done confirming, aren't you? So what's the other thing you wanted; what's your request?" she asks and I reply with a natural smile.

Ah, she acts just like I wanted.

What I needed was a culprit with no reason to kill. But that's not all. That's not enough to give me peace of mind.

What I really need is—<u>a coldblooded murderer.</u>

A murderer like Reina Kamisu.

Therefore, I ask from her:



"—Please, kill me."



That moment, my wound turned into a scar.

The pain went away and the blood stopped. What remains is a plain scar that looks a bit repulsive until you've gotten used to it.

But that's just an illusion; I can't exist without that pain. I have to drag along my past and live with it and the pain. As soon as I stop fantasizing about being killed by Reina Kamisu, the scar will turn back into a fresh wound.

"Why do you ask <i>me</i>? Just die by yourself."

"That's out of question. I can't commit suicide. My fear of death is barely strong enough to keep me from doing that."

"Hmm...? <u>Barely strong enough</u>, hm?" she emphasizes part of what I said.

Right, I can't end my own life because I'm able to see how horrifying it is to die.

But what if—what if someone killed me?

If I were to be killed forcibly, I would not have the time to mull over about death. At most, I would realize the fact that I would disappear from this world. Or perhaps, the pain wouldn't grant me any thought at all. The prominent kind of feeling I would have at that moment would be—relief.

I've always been wishing from the bottom of my heart for someone to erase me.

"Just in case," I say to her.

"Hm?"

"You have no qualms about taking my life, do you?"

With an absurdly beautiful smile, Reina Kamisu replies:


"—Of course not. Why should I have any qualms?"


"Tell me," she continues, surprising me, "why are you smiling so happily?"

Only now do I realize that a smile has been glued to my face. Without a thought, I cover my mouth, but as I do so, I peek into her eyes and return the favor.

"So are you," I point out, causing her to cover her mouth as well. Amused by the fact that we showed the exact same reaction, we both start to laugh.

The fact that nothing about this peaceful moment is real only adds to it.

"Okay—" she mutters as she extends her soft hands to me. Her long, slender fingers fold around my neck. I can't help but feel that this situation is perverted and even slightly sexual.

Her fingers strangulate me.

Her hands are as cold as those of a dead person. It feels like that coldness is absorbing everything from me.

Ah—I am vanishing for good.

Bit by bit, the sensation of being split is getting stronger. Slowly but surely, <i>I</i> am leaving my body. The mangled remains of myself are assembling into one piece again and leaving my body. Never before have I felt such an overwhelming feeling of anguish and pleasure.

And as I have predicted, I feel relieved.

In my last moments, I look at her while she is choking me.

Suddenly, I wonder: who is she, anyway?

I quickly dismiss that thought. Partially because my ability to think has dwindled, but mostly because it seemed like a meaningless thought once I saw her absurdly beautiful smile.

Instead, I say to her in my mind:

<i>"Thank you."</i>


And then—

Atsushi Kogure died.



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