Phenomeno:Raven Notes

『Raven Notes』 -- 「The Raven's Memorandum」 or 「The story that gets devoured」

The writing that begins here is, to put it simply, written from memory.

You know, don't you feel better when you write down things that you don't get? Basically, it's a memo to sort out in writing what I couldn't figure out no matter how much I thought about it. Crudely put, a memorandum.

So if you're reading these words because you felt suspicion over my death, that's useless, I think. Even if you keep reading, you won't get any logical explanation for my "death". Because of that, this writing may have the connotation of a "will," but obviously as I currently write this, I am not dead. I don't intend to die -- I'm living so blissfully that I was window-shopping for cute summer clothes just now, and licking my lips at baked custard at Ginza's I Bischero, and I can't suppress my excitement over the offline meeting tonight. Then why am I writing this? I can only call it a sixth sense. I have no intention of dying, but I strongly feel the presence of death -– this is the only way I can explain it.

"Ahh, I see, Karasu-san -- you're a fortune-teller. Did you see your own death?"

Some people may ask, but that's not quite right. Generally, fortune-telling is a combination of cold reading -- the "layering of bluffs" -- and hot -- using the "gifts of prior knowledge." It's just an occult style of therapy combining those two and conversational skills and presentation. And you know, forget my own death, I can't even figure out if or when I'd marry -- well, yeah, about that. That marriage thing. That's the start of this memorandum.

You know, I'm getting to the limit where it'll be tough for me to sell myself as a young, beautiful lady. I mean, I do want to marry. I know, I'm not blissful enough anymore to think that some handsome guy on a white horse will suddenly show up one day, but I do sometimes have enough hope that I'd like to scream up at God about when he'd like to prepare some happiness for me, even just a meeting. And -- it's embarrassing to admit, but the other day, I decided to sign up for one of those, well, they call it, a dating site. Well they did offer the first month free. You can't know until you try. And then I typed in my info during sign-up, and then looked at the "want" profiles of others, and then I gasped and froze. Desired height? Desired education? Desired age? Huh? What? That sort of stuff doesn't have what I want! Do you think I'd come sidling up to such a salad-like appeal? Aren't there more, you know, values relevant to your core as a person? I'm trying to become the king of pirates, or I'm trying to master hamon, or I'm preparing to move to Mars. And not just completely talk, you know, but the type of guy who has twinkles in his eyes as he says that, and tries to make it a reality. I don't get excited unless you're someone like that! I don't think it'd be fun being with you, otherwise! And then I tore out my hair and gave up. Gave up on marrying. My whole world had gone dark -- but, that happened.

【Yo, hello! I'm the handsome you were waiting for!】

「..........」

【My dream is world domination. I love peoples' despair. Sometimes people shout, "you demon!" though, hahahah】

「..........」

【Huh? Hello, hello? Is this showing up?】

Of course, this was not a vocal conversation, but rather a conversation through text chat – that’s how I remember it, but as I said at the start, this is from memory, just a memo, just a memorandum. Just something that records my memories from my perspective. In other words, as I sat there despairing over dating sites, I had begun chatting with someone online who called themselves a demon.

【Huhhhh, you're Mr. Demon? Actually handsome?】

I typed into my keyboard, completely dubious.

【Of course, of course! When I was a kid there was no end to the admiration, saying that I gave people true freedom in Eden, and that I pull people up into the kingdom of light.】

【Then might you be the rumored Princess of Hell, he who was once called "Lucifer"?】

【No no no-, well, how should I put it, right, in terms of appearance, imagine a white face, blond hair, and golden wings, that should do it, no problem!】

【Not a bald old man trying to act prettier than he is?】

【Ow ow ow ow. As if!】

... I felt like I was destined to be stuck with painful people. This one felt more like a Mephistopheles than a Lucifer, but I had time until work. It'd been a while since I chatted, so I continued conversing, figuring that if he turned out to be really annoying I could just block him.

【So, what does Mr. Demon want?】

【Well, you could say it's about something that was forgotten and left behind. You disappeared without giving me back something. It was hard finding you!】

【Hmm, so I'd met Mr. Old Man before?】

【I'm not an old man! I'm quite handsome, thank you! Please drop that image of a bald man from your head!】

【You know, I was at least imagining Lord Lucifer from Les Tres Riches Heures du Duc de Berry, but at the moment I only have Kodansha's publication of Sato Arifumi's Demon books.】

【Hey... wait, he's bald!】

【Surprised you knew... So -- what was it? I'd met you somewhere? What was I meant to give you, my soul? When did I bind a contract with you?】

【Ahh, well about that, that's troublesome. I wonder where the myth of demons wanting souls started. I'm sad. I've never wanted such a thing.】

While chatting, I looked up the URL of the site I was connected to. It was a site I'd never heard of. And my browsing history only hinted that I'd jumped there from the dating site -- maybe I'd clicked on a weird banner?

【Then, I'll give you a hint.】

Abruptly, The Old Demon Man said.

【It was when you were still a blossoming high school girl.】

【What?】

【Wasn't there a bizarre rumor that spread around class? About the "Man in blue clothing."】

-- Ahh, I vaguely remember. It was something like, if you answer "three questions" posed by a man wearing all blue, you die soon. I remember some story like that making the rounds in class.

【Yes, yes that. I'm that "Man in blue clothing!"】

..........

【...... hello?】

【Yes yes.】

【You remember, don't you? And if I remember correctly, I asked you "three questions," too, but you managed to get off in a quite cunning way! It vexed me so much, that I've been looking for you this whole time!】

【Ahh, I feel like I'm beginning to remember.】

That scene that day vaguely reawakened in my brain. It felt like it came with a bitter emotion, but I couldn't remember why. Or... wait? If he's saying what he means...

【Did you -- have something to do with Haruka-chan's death?】

And this time, the man ceased responding.

Suddenly, bitter things began rising from my gut. It was unpleasant, as if a nightmare from long ago had begun infesting the real world. And yet despite that -- as if I were tearing away the cast on a healing wound, as if guided by an unseen hand, I questioned.

【And my mother, and my boyfriend at the time, their deaths too?】

【You say such scandalous things.】

-- wrote the old man, after some time.

【All I did was ask questions, so I have no reason to be blamed for the misfortunes of others. If you don't want to answer, you just don't need to answer, after all.】

【That was part of the horror story about the "man in blue clothing," wasn't it. But what was truly terrifying was what came afterwards. "You're supposed to just not answer, but it's over once the question is asked, because it's a question that compels you to answer."】

【Pretty much. That's true, but you got away. I could never forget about that, and couldn't forgive it, so I'm here today to ask you about it. That method, if it were to spread, would begin to concern my existence.】

The man wrote, but -- strange. I couldn't remember, at all.

Indeed, I vaguely remember the urban legend or horror about the "man in blue clothing" making the rounds during high school. But until it was mentioned just now, why that would relate to someone's death -- in other words, Haruka-chan, my mother, and my boyfriend's death were not connected and remembered. Why? How did the three die? Why do I not remember correctly? Something significant had to have happened, but the map of my memory was torn and scattered, as if something had chewed it apart.

I glared at the laptop monitor, bit my nails, and tried to remember.

Right... I had met the "man in blue clothing" once. I also feel like I'd been asked "three questions." And then, when I found out about the questions, I was on the verge of despair -- but the moment I thought that, I had an awful feeling sweep over me, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

Bad. I felt like I shouldn't be remembering any further, so I typed on the keyboard, trying to close the chat -- but it wouldn't let me log out. I tried closing the browser, but it wouldn't, either.

【It's futile. I've already reached you.】

His dancing words reappeared.

【Whether you close this computer, or destroy it, the next moment you connect to the internet, I can appear at your footsteps again. Think of it as having bookmarked you. So, how did you escape from me? What did you do, then? Will you remember?】

【But you know, if I can't remember, then there's no helping it.】

【Can't remember, can't remember! That's it, humans have that function, and that's why I hate you all. You live relying on an unreliable system called memories, yet you forget everything that you don't fancy. Or in other cases you maintain your ego by overwriting them with incorrect information. That's a problem though, to me. You know, like, bugs? It means the God that made this world wasn't omnipotent. There are always results that come from outside of expectations. What you did once falls under that, and I must eliminate it. If that were to spread, the whole world would be filled with chaos--】

And then I closed the laptop itself.

And then I stood up, went to the kitchen, took out a Menthol cigarette, and lit it. I turned on the ventilator, and took my time with the smoke, and returned to the table after a good bit of time. And then when I opened the laptop--

【How rude how rude! We were still talking, and suddenly!】

He was still there, so once more, I closed it.

Indeed, it seemed like we were still connected. I didn't know whether it was a real demon, or if it were just a new type of computer virus, but either way, my laptop had been taken hostage.

"God. All my customer data is in that laptop, too."

When was the last time I backed up the data? Ahh, about half a year ago -- or worse, maybe even last year. They do say your irresponsible attitude can come back to haunt you in times like this. I folded my arms. In any case, I couldn't throw away my laptop now, and if him appearing every time I connect to the internet is problematic. Proper attitudes should be taken toward stalkers, I thought, and then I sat down in the chair and opened the laptop.

【So, what do I need to do?】

【You just need to remember, what you forgot to give me. And how you were able to escape from me, the method.】

【But, after that I die, right? That result, after going through so much effort to remember, isn't that a sad result?】

【Sad? I'm the one who's sad! How much effort do you think it took to find you!】

Ahh, what a pain, I thought, but I had no real choice but to listen. The health of my laptop was on the line, and for better or for worse, I had someone to talk to, and it might turn out well if I kept conversing and if they accepted the result. The exorcist I was acquainted with said something like that, too. That in the end, exorcism is just persuasion. And since it seemed like I'd been able to escape from him before, so I should be able to do it a second time -- at least, by logic.

And so, I crossed my legs in front of the laptop, and closed my eyes to remember that time.

○

Haruka-chan -- I think her real name was Toonoki Haruka-chan.

Haruka-chan was a good girl. A bright girl, the kind who's in every classroom, popular with both the guys and the girls. She had fluffy, bright hair, and when she laughed a cute dimple appeared, and she was the type that warmed your heart, the type who you'd think had been brought up with tons of love.

But -- my last impression of Haruka-chan was without a head.

One day, she jumped off of the school roof, and her head snapped off. Part of her head, stuck with the hair that was bright, and with inexplicable red and black lumps of meat scattered everywhere, was how she died. It was concluded to be suicide, but -- if I remember correctly, after Haruka-chan passed away, that "man in blue clothing" rumor began to circulate.

They said that Haruka-chan had been bothered by the "man in blue clothing" that had been showing up in her dreams. That man in blue clothing had asked "three questions," and rumor had it that Haruka-chan had answered the three questions and had been taken away because of that.

Of course, that was the type of urban legend that could be found anywhere, so it's the type of horror story you hear a lot among adolescent girls. At the time I was the type of kid who always took a slanted look at the world, so if you were to ask, I'd have to reply that I didn't believe it at all. Of course, I was heavily affected by Haruka-chan's death, but I probably smirked and laughed at my classmates, who cowered in fear of that rumor, thinking that if you're going to die answering, then you just don't need to answer.

●

And, having remembered that much -- I felt myself being covered by a terribly cold feeling. My palms were covered with sweat.

【Continue.】

Was written when I looked at the LCD display of my laptop. I clicked my tongue once, exhaled deeply, and continued remembering.

●

And then around half a year after that--

Right, that day, I saw my mom in the city. It was an afternoon of a day that was so hot you would sweat just by standing, and I was in front of the train station, having left high school early -- and noticed my mother beyond the crowd of laughing people. At the time, I had a bad relationship with my mom and didn't call out to her, but then I noticed. Right behind my mom walked a person in strange clothing.

He was covered from top to bottom in a bright blue suit. His shirt and necktie and shoes and hat were all blue, and the moment I thought //wow he's got terrible fashion senses!//, I also felt a chill go down my spine. Come to think of it, wouldn't that be what a "man in blue clothing" looks like? The man gradually crept closer to my mom from behind, and called out to her in front of a burger shop. My mom looked surprised when she turned around, and then she answered one or two words to his questions. I had an incredibly bad feeling, and began running. However, the crowd was worse than usual that day, so I couldn't get closer, and by the time I made it through, the man in blue clothing was gone. In the middle of a scene warped by heat vapor, my mother simply stood there dazed. I asked, "who was that?" but she only gave me a vague smile.

Again. This person never tells me the important things. Such a bratty – well, I was a brat then, that spoiled thought swept through me, and I felt idiotic for worrying over her, and I left her there.

Yes -- the thought that this would be my last conversation with her never crossed my mind.

My mom hung herself shortly after.

While I was at school, she tied a curtain to the handrails off of the second-floor stairs, and because she was dangling from there, that was the first thing I saw when I came home and opened the door. There was no hint of crime, and a simple will was found, so it was wrapped up as a suicide -- we weren't a family that spoke much, after all. My dad and brother both didn't know what bothered mom, either. But I alone attended the funeral with the feeling of having something stuck in my throat.

-- Was it really suicide? The man in blue said something to mom. Was that the "three questions"? And what were the questions? Did Haruka-chan and mom die because they answered the questions? What is that "man in blue clothing" anyways?

I thought about that quite a bit--

Around that time, I finally began communicating with the girls who were friends with Haruka-chan.

"Hey, what did that 'man in blue clothing' ask Haruka-chan? What're the 'three questions'?"

I asked around, but no one wanted to talk about it, and no one told me anything. Eventually, the "man in blue clothing" had become a topic that no one in class wanted to touch. To speak about it meant you became related to it. The pale faces of my classmates looked like the dead to me.

-- perhaps the "man in blue clothing" was a different form of the "grim reaper".

When I thought of that, I began to rummage through writing on my own. I went to libraries here and there to research everything related to "grim reapers," and searched online for things about "man in blue clothing" and "three questions/death." However, such a story didn't exist anywhere. There were similar horror stories, but they all seemed like urban legends that were cobbled together using a slew of horror stories.

I wandered around, lost, and eventually decided to create a thread on the forum of an occult site I frequented.

【Three questions -- the "man in blue clothing" thread】

It was a shady-looking title, but I thought maybe I'd be able to get some info anyways. But it only got spammed, and I was unable to get any info about the "man in blue clothing".

Not knowing anything, another half-year or so passed--

I was living a gloomy life when I got a boyfriend.

He was a university student I met at my part-time job, and he confessed to me, but I turned him down at first. I felt like nothing had been truly resolved yet, so I was afraid of dragging someone else into the mess. However, he remained kind, bright and resolute -- and in retrospect obviously, our conversations never touched upon the word "death". Basically, he let me remember how to live a normal life again. I slowly opened my heart up to him, and began going out with him. They were warm days that would made me tear up for no reason, days I hadn't experienced in quite some time, but--

Yes, I shouldn't have dated him.

One weekday afternoon -- I saw a dream. I think it was in the middle of midterms, and I was at home early afternoon, but I didn't feel like studying, lay down in bed, and ended up sleeping. In my dream, the "man in blue clothing" I had seen that day was slowly walking.

My heart thudded, and I stopped in my tracks in my dream.

I didn't want to have anything to do with him anymore. That was my honest feeling, I think. Having my life tossed about by such a vague existence was wrong. I thought. I would just wait for the man in blue clothing to pass by, and just as I'd crouched to hide behind something -- my heart froze and thudded once more.

The man in blue clothing was following someone. And, I realized that was my boyfriend.

-- W... wait, what? That person has nothing to do with this, right!?

I screamed a soundless scream, and tried to run after them to catch up. But my legs moved slowly, as if glued to the ground, and like that day, a wall of people got in my way. Between the people, I saw the "man in blue clothing" speaking to my boyfriend. My boyfriend turned around, with the expected surprised expression.

-- No. Don't answer.

I cried and screamed, and then I finally realized. I began going out with him to curb my loneliness and sorrow. I thought the relationship was bittersweet even as it embraced me in warmth. But still, he made me realize that the world was still filled with color. He had smoothed out the thin strands of my psyche, and had saved me.

"If you've got a problem with me, say it to me!"

I screamed as I finally caught up, and grabbed the sleeve of the man in blue clothing.

And -- then.

For the first time, I heard the voice of the man in blue clothing.

That low voice that I had heard somewhere, was asking my boyfriend.

"□□□□□□?" "□□□□□□?" "□□□□□□?"

-- the "three questions."

-- those questions, that they say you die if you answer.

I was supposed to have finally heard -- but my consciousness was forcibly ripped away, and I woke from my dream.

I was on the bed in my room. The sun was still high in the sky, its light pouring into my room. I hadn't changed out from my school uniform, and was lying on my side in tears. The emotional remnants from the dream hadn't left yet, and my heart was racing. Conscious or not, I immediately woke up, and called my boyfriend's cellphone.

But he didn't pick up. The ringtone sounded fifteen times, and I cut off the call when it switched to his voice mail. No, maybe he's still in a lecture. Maybe he's just moving. I told myself that, but I remembered Haruka-chan's case, mom's case, and the freezing anxiety suffocated me. As if to escape, I faced my desk and pulled out Tarot cards from the drawer. It was a set I'd bought out of interest while I was researching the grim reaper. That time, I learned how to use them.

I calmed down my breathing, and placed the Tarot cards on the desk in Major Arcana form. Thinking hard about him, I asked the Tarot. However, his close future -- the card that appeared shocked me. I shuffled the Tarot again, and this time placed them in Minor Arcana form. And then, once more, I knocked away the result with my hand, then I tried changing the spread to the Celtic Cross, the Hermit's Lamp, and the Carterhough. But the result was always the same. I flew out of my room.

Tarot is just an appeasement.

You can put any sort of meaning to cards, and they exist just to comfort the anxious. I tried to think that, but I couldn't help but calculate the odds of five straight Tarot readings turning up the same result. 22 cards in the Major Arcana, 56 in the Minor Arcana. In other words -- the first two alone meant a 1/1232 probability. Did -- did this not mean something was absolute?

My boyfriend's university was in the neighboring town, so as I waited for the bus, in an effort to escape from my anxiety, I visited the occult site where I'd created the 【"man in blue clothing" thread】 for the first time in a while. Other than the meaningless spam, there were a lot of advertisements to adult sites, and--

Beyond that, I saw.

【I saw the blue-clothed man】

I stopped breathing when I saw those six words.

When I looked at the time of the post, it was just five minutes prior.

●

【-- Oh?】

When I remembered that much, the old demon man wrote.

【The person posting on the forum knew me?】

【I... I think so.】

【Interesting. Do continue.】

●

... umm, because you interrupted, I don't remember where I was.

Right, maybe they're still there, I wrote a response in the thread.

【Where? Where did you see him? Who are you?】

While waiting for the bus, I refreshed the page over and over again. Eventually, the bus arrived, and I jumped in. When I sat down, I couldn't wait any longer, and posted once more.

【In my case, he appeared in my dream. I also saw him in reality. In both cases, he was speaking to someone I knew. And the people all die. What is that? Who is that man?】

I wrote, and I held my cellphone in my hands, as if praying to it.

It felt like an eternity passed before the response, but it probably had not been a minute. Eventually, that whoever appeared and responded.

【Did you answer his questions?】

My heart thudded, and before I could think of how to answer, the next post appeared.

【If that's the case, then I don't think that person can be saved.】

I wrote.

【Do you know the content of those questions?】

【I know.】

【Tell me. What're the questions? Is there a way of being saved after being asked?】

【There is, but I can't really recommend it.】

【It's still better than dying! Tell me!】

And then--

That inexplicable post appeared.

【Hey, are you scared?】

.......... what?

【Are you, scared, right now?】

【How does it feel to be afraid?】

I felt chilled by those words, posted in succession.

-- What is this person?

Of course I'm afraid! Are you stupid? Or, what? Is this person a psycho that scatters occult fantasies everywhere? I mean, not that I can speak for others, but it's the kind of person posting on this forum during midday, so it might be some weirdo who's too obsessed with the occult -- and just as I was pondering whether it was worth continuing, those words appeared.

【I need to go now.】

-- What? Go?

【I need to do my homework.】

..... H-homework? Then -- what? Is this an elementary school kid? Was I being teased by an elementary school kid? No -- no, who cares if they're in elementary school. Even if it's an urban legend, if there's an answer, I wanted to know. Two acquaintances had died to that "man in blue clothing." Regardless of whether this person is an elementary school student or not, this was my one rope that had been extended down into Hell. In this dark world, where I couldn't even make out my own feet, with deep darkness extending everywhere, was this one single rope. If they became displeased and disappeared into the internet, it would truly be over--

I thought, and with my trembling fingers, I responded.

【I'm scared.】 【I'm really scared.】

I held back my tears and continued posting.

【So, please. Tell me what's asked, and how to be saved.】

Then--

The answer was given from the other side of the internet.

【The blue-clothed first asks, "What is my name?"】

-- Name?

【The next question is, "What is the name of my child?"】

-- Child? Why? That blue-clothed man is the type to have a child?

【And then finally, this is the trick, but the blue-clothed will ask for the contents of the box. Don't fall for it.】

.... Trick? Box? Don't be fooled -- but I don't get it at all. I don't understand at all, but alright. Understood. I was just about to accidentally miss my stop, so I hurriedly shouted and mashed the stopping bell, and jumped off. And then as I ran toward the university, I called my boyfriend's phone again. After a few rings, I heard a familiar voice asking, "hello," and that moment, I felt tears well up in my eyes.

"..... Ahhh, you're alive! Thank god!"

《What're you on about?》

"Nevermind, it's nothing. Please, listen. If you love me, remember what I'm going to say. Even if it's in your dream, remember."

《Hey, hey, calm down.》

"Just listen! If someone you don't know asks 『what's my name,』 don't give anyone's name. If they ask 『what's my child's name?』 don't give anyone's name. And then--"

《How did you know?》

My heart froze with pain -- at his words.

《I mean, the dream I saw. When I was dozing off during class. I was asked in my dream, by a guy in blue clothing. What's my name?》

"What -- what did you say?"

《What, my name, Iida Kimihiko.》

"W- why? Why would you tell a stranger your name?"

《It wasn't a stranger.》

.......... What?

《Because, the guy in blue clothing behind me》

As the rest of his words came toward me -- an immense noise sounded from across the phone.

Someone's scream roared, and rolling metal sounded over it. The sound of something continuously falling onto the ground continued, and I could hear countless screams.

The cellphone remained to my ear.....

As my body heavily, hardened, and froze.

I could do nothing, I could not resist... the deep, dark, swamp.

All that was there -- was an overabundance of despair.

○

That sound from across the receiver--

Was part of the campus building, which was currently being strengthened against earthquakes, suddenly falling off.

Countless students were milling about in the courtyard of the university Kimihiko attended, and I heard that as I made my way through the crowd. "A student was caught under it" "Where's the ambulance?" "Hurry up and help him out" but along with that I heard "It's too late" "There's no way he could have survived that."

And then I -- through a lot of people, saw.

Sticking out from between the piles of reddish-brown steel pipes, Kimihiko's sneaker. A familiar set of jeans. And around that, the ground was stained with a reddish-black liquid. I was overcome by a strong urge to vomit, and couldn't step forward anymore, and eventually was pushed into the crowd by the emergency crew and the faculty leading them.

After that -- I don't remember. My head was hot, and there was confusion, like all the sounds were mixing together. I don't know how much time passed -- but I was wobbling around, my hand still clutching the cell phone that was connected to Kimihiko's line. When I snapped out of it, I'd arrived at the rooftop garden of a station building that Kimihiko and I frequented, and was gazing at the university campus, dazed.

The scene reflected in my eyes was fogged white, as if I were dreaming. The early-summer wind swayed my hair, and the feeling of it sweeping through my uniform finally put words back in my throat.

"..... What..... Why..... Why is this happening? What's the man in blue clothing? What's going on and why's this happening?"

I scrunched my face, gripped the iron fencing around the rooftop, and repeated the questions to no one in particular. Maybe everything's a dream. Maybe I just misunderstood, that I just needed to go back to the university and Kimihiko would smile at me. That sneaker, those jeans, might have been someone else's -- I tried to tell myself, but my legs wouldn't move.

I heard the sound of wings above me, and raised my head.

Several ravens had perched on the rooftop fence. Each of their obsidian eyes was directed toward me, and they cried as if jeering. Their crying made it appear as if they were trying to tell me something important, and yet, also as if they understood that it would never get through.

"Please... tell me..."

I glared at the ravens and said.

"If you know... what's happening, if you know."

Please, tell me.

Just as I shouted that -- I heard it.

"What's my name?"

It was so cold that I was about to shiver--

I slowly turned around, and before me was blue so bright that it felt like it would pierce my eyes.

●

..... That's right.

That day -- I was asked that.

I definitely met the "man in blue clothing," and was asked that question.

【... continue?】

Floated in text from across the internet.

【What I want to know is past that.】

Abruptly, the words jiggled.

-- Is it truly alright to remember?

Right now, I was definitely being controlled by the other's pace. I felt like I was on a trolley headed straight toward the abyss. However, it was a trolley on rails that had no redirecting. There was no escape, or rather, I had no chance of winning this conversation from the start.

"Is the guy on the other side really..."

Along with the bad feelings rising up from my feet--

That scene spread itself out in my mind, unstoppable.

●

Blue, azure, cobalt, blue.

In the world filled with white fog, that showed up. Suit, shirt, necktie, slacks, and the hat worn over his eyes -- someone stood there in all blue, as if swallowed up by the sky.

"Y... you..."

It felt like time had stopped there, and I heard his voice like the voice of someone else.

"What is my name?"

It felt nostalgic, familiar, and, in a way, it gave me an uneasy feeling, his voice. And while letting off such a cold-to-the-core air -- he asked, pleasantly.

"Y... you... you're..."

And then, the blue-clothed slowly raised his hat, and showed me the face beneath.

Yes -- there.

Holding the hat in one hand, her long, black hair flowing.

Was me.

Covered entirely in blue, and smiling, that was, without a doubt, "me".

I felt an immense urge to vomit, but I held that back, and finally understood. That familiar-sounding voice came with the weirdness of hearing a recording of your own voice. As if your own shadow was acting differently from you, as if something that shouldn't be revolting revolted, I felt the terror of seeing the impossible.

"What is the name of my child?"

Chuckling at my expression -- the blue-clothed continued questioning.

However, that face.

"...............!!?"

On the face on top of the blue clothing, instead of my face, was the ashen face of my dead mom.

I see -- I remember now. The despair I forgot I had felt at the time was finally re-materializing.

You ask for your own name. Your mother asks for her child's name. In either case, the answer is "your name". That's why people end up answering their name to the blue-clothed questions.

And then this time, the blue-clothed took something out of its suit pocket. But I understood without even seeing it. The final question was a box, I think.

"What is inside this box?"

What the blue-clothed presented with that expected question -- was a sleek, white, porcelain funerary urn. The face of the blue-clothed crumbled. Flesh peeled off, and the white, cracked skull became visible.

-- Grim Reaper.

That was the case, after all. This was a Grim Reaper. And the "three questions" were there to guide me toward saying "my name" in different ways. However -- I couldn't figure out why it was using such a roundabout means. The meaning behind the blue clothing, where it comes from, and why only I can see it. I didn't know, but in any case, I understood that if I answered this question, the next one to be taken would be me. I stood my ground with my trembling legs, and pursed my lips. I clenched my teeth, and stood defiant against answering a thing.

More than fear -- my body trembled out of vexation.

I had always thought that facing death straight on would a more resigned, refreshing affair. You know, like hearing soothing hymns in an endless world filled with light, or being able to see the Sanzu River in a world filled with white mist. But instead, I was disappointed that it was this roundabout, underhanded way. That urn probably contained my name. This asshole was trying to get me to say my name using such different ways. It was too underhanded. It was too vile. I wanted to hit back even a little bit, and then -- I noticed the name in the urn.

○○由貴子 (Yukiko).

My name was there, but one of the letters was wrong.

My name is ○○由起子. No matter what happens, that I grow up to be a girl that can always wake up with my own strength, was the hope behind my name. I remembered my mom, with her effusive smile, as she explained that to me. When nothing had happened yet between my mom and I.

..... Why had my mom and I grown so distant?

..... Why had I grown to distance myself from her?

It was since that day that I learned my mom still kept a letter from an old lover. It's not an easy thing to throw away peoples' feelings, my mom said, but I couldn't help but feel like that was an act of betrayal toward the family. But I realized when I saw that letter during her funeral. That old lover had long since passed away. He was an existence that couldn't affect our family anymore. Maybe my mom couldn't throw it away because he had passed away. Maybe she thought that if she were to throw away the proof of his life, then he would truly be dead.

Those thoughts suddenly swept through me -- and the world became clouded over.

As long as you're alive, you can't overwrite sad things with happy things. But, the dead can't come back. You can't talk to them anymore -- mom was the one who said that.

"Hey, you....."

Anger built up inside me, and I opened my mouth.

"If you're a grim reaper -- don't get people’s names wrong!"

My.

My name.

My name, which my mom so carefully gave me.

My name, when I shouted my correct name, that moment--

That color leaked in, into the white, foggy world.

-- Red?

That was the color of a ransel.

There was one girl with a pure, red ransel on her back.

●

【-- Her】

Just as the old man on the other side of the LCD typed,

"..... I see."

I was also mumbling.

-- I see, so that's how it was.

I was finally beginning to remember everything. I realized why my memories had faded.

"That was close."

"You were asking for my name again, weren't you."

My head became flushed with red at the brutal truth.

Yes -- I hadn't forgotten.

My story had already been devoured.

"That day, what you'd been unable to hear, 'my name,' -- you wanted me to remember the name I'd sealed away, and then say it, that's what you wanted me to do -- isn't that right?"

●

"Don't fall for it."

That time, that person who appeared on the occult site forum, the words that were posted came to mind. And those words came fresh, overlapping with the image of the little girl with the red ransel.

Yes, the person who posted that on the forum said.

Be careful of the final question.

Box. The name written inside.

My name, written incorrectly.

..... It was deliberate.

The blue-clothed wrote my name wrong on purpose.

Or rather... would a Grim Reaper really do that? Maybe it's not a Grim Reaper? Then what is this? And -- who was that elementary school kid, and why did she know?

Then, I saw the blue-clothed slowly turn around. And then acknowledging the presence of the unexpected girl, it changed its posture.

And, silently accepting the gaze that must have looked like they were prepared to take her breath away, the girl moved.

She raised her small right arm, and pointed it.

At -- the top of the rooftop fence. There, where previously there were only a few, were enough ravens to cover the sky in black, gazing at me as if ready to carry me to the other side. They were probably looking at me the whole time. And rather than interject, they simply observed. What the blue-clothed is, who the girl is, and what is happening, they understood it all, yet they just watched. As they have always done -- and will continue to always, they will keep watching countless thoughts being extinguished in the endless river of time.

You shouldn't speak of it. If you speak of it, you become acquainted.

-- Then, then, what should I do?

What should I do, having become acquainted so?

Then, I feel like I heard the echo of a wind chime that might have been placed and forgotten.

Whether that was the girl's voice -- that was one thing I couldn't remember at all. But, those words that sounded like wind chimes suddenly descended into my head.

"Throw away your name."

-- Throw away my name? Why do I need to throw away my name?

But oddly, I understood that it was correct, and that it was the only way to escape. Otherwise, I would be pursued relentlessly until I died. But -- but, that's impossible. This name is mine, and only mine. It's proof that I was born into this world, and was engraved into me with hopes and prayers. To throw that away meant to throw away what I held dear. If I throw away that name -- then I would cease being me. I would cut ties with the family and friends and dear people that I had made ties to all this time.

I tearfully complained, but the girl with the ransel silently stared at me.

The girl simply let the wind play with her long, strange, black hair. Even though we stood so far apart, I could tell how beautiful her face was. Extremely, extremely, beautiful -- no, that didn't do it justice. The girl was like a masterpiece bisque doll that a famous craftsman placed heart and soul into as a final work. A bizarre dissonance, one that made you feel like it couldn't possibly exist in this world. Those were the girl's eyes. Her face, as if blessed by God, and her eyes, as if loved by the Devil, contrasted and horrifically sublimated her beauty.

I felt like I was being swallowed by the dark eyes she stared at me with, and then the girl nodded slightly.

".......... Ah."

When I realized it, I felt cold air knife across my skin. That was not coming from the blue-clothed, but rather from the black eyes of the girl with the red ransel, and when I realized that, the tears I'd been holding back flowed forth. I'd been holding back because I felt like crying was an admission of defeat, but -- I couldn't hold back anymore.

-- That girl already had no name. She'd long since thrown it away. Even... even though she was so young. She was still six or seven. But she'd already squeezed through something that had forced her to abandon her name, and had shown up just to tell me what to do.

"My name?"

And, then -- the blue-clothed me asked, with a furious expression.

I managed to steady my knees, as I was about to topple over, and I looked at the black-haired girl, pleading. She was still pointing. Pointing at the ravens.

As I cried, I thought of my mom's smile.

-- If you die, it's over. As long as you're alive, you'll find happy things. You can just store the name within your soul. Give it to the person who wants it.

I nodded--

And then the name in my heart cut through, and that day, I declared.

"I'm, Karasu((Karasu in Japanese can refer to crows and ravens -- I previously thought he was referring to crows but I guess not!))."

"I know everything, yet I travel the darkness between this shore and that shore without telling, Karasu."

◎

It was my room.

【Ahh -- failed, again.】

When I came too, he only left behind those words, which felt like they were accompanied by a bitter laugh, and disappeared from the internet. I wiped the huge amount of sweat off my hands -- and then closed the browser. It closed without any issues. I tried opening the browser again and looked at the browsing history, and it contained the dating site, but nothing afterwards.

I rubbed my eyes, and half-opened my mouth in exasperation. I took out a cigarette with my trembling fingers, and placed it in my mouth. Without lighting it, I sank back in my chair, and looked up at the ceiling.

-- Jeez, really. Just, jeez.

I've lived since that day, having thrown my real name away. That's why I'd forgotten everything about that name.

"A memorandum indeed -- quite a memorandum."

☆☆☆

After I wrote that, I stopped my fingers.

On the LCD display of my tablet terminal, were the words that I had engraved myself.

I quickly scanned through it again, and suddenly felt odd. At the same time, I wondered why I decided to write a memorandum, and felt terrified. I'd never even kept a diary before, so I thought about deleting it -- but in the end, I saved the text, and placed it in a private folder. And then I turned off the terminal, and placed it in my bag.

I was alone in a taxi, going through the darkened city.

I squinted at the oncoming headlights, gazed absent-mindedly at the illumination in front of the train station, and thought. If I hadn't thrown away my name then -- would I have really died young like Haruka-chan and mom and Kimihiko?

I didn't know. Did they die because the "blue-clothed" had appeared, or did the "blue-clothed" appear because their death was decided; I couldn't figure even that out. Speaking of not knowing -- where I am, whether I'm alive, sometimes, I get confused. For instance, do the people outside of the window of this taxi actually exist? The countless bluish-white humanoid lights sometimes look like lighting for tropical fish, and the people feel like Neon Tetra swimming in an aquarium. An aquarium named an endless dream.

No -- come to think of it, I hadn't dreamed in a while. But that was because I couldn't sleep deeply, and even though I must have been seeing things like dreams, I also felt a sense of loss, as if that scene had fundamentally been ripped away as payment for waking up in this world.

But, really, sometimes--

When I wake up, I feel the vestiges of something.

That was the sound of crying. I realized that it was like the voices of countless ravens crying somewhere.

As if they were trying to tell me something important, yet those voices that could never be understood, may have been engraved in my pure white dream world, sharply and deeply. Maybe it's the grudge of a raven somewhere that had died for me.

In the end, whether that blue-clothed was a demon, a grim reaper, or some wandering ghost, I never found out. Even so, I was sure that the true form of the blue-clothed was the time of death, and that it was like an unnamed stamp. I don't know why such an unfair existence wandered around this world, but it seemed that once you engrave your name, it functions.

And, because I had engraved a false name--

When that day comes, what sort of death will I face?

Not that I would know, having already died, but for some reason, I thought it wouldn't be a pretty death. At my funeral, I wouldn't have a pretty face for people to look at, and people would say you shouldn't look -- no, it might even be a funeral where my corpse doesn't even look like one. As if I were set upon by something that awaited my death for a long time, scattered about as if devouring my "death"--

And then, I abruptly thought of a word.

Lucifer Blue.

Wasn't that blueish-white light used to light aquariums called that?((That took forever to find -- I can't find any confirmation that this is true outside of Japan, but it does seem that a while ago those blue LEDs were called "Lucifer Blue"))

"I see."

I smiled coldly, and pointed my finger at the people on the other side of the window glass, meandering about like tropical fish. The tip of my finger touched the glass, and I found again that they cannot reach me.

From their perspective, it may be me, across the glass window, that looks like a tropical fish.

And then they must sometimes be stretching out their finger. The fingertips that I would never be able to see. Yet from their side, they can't find my place, either.

○

"Welcome! Alone?"

As soon as I entered the family restaurant for the offline meeting, I was greeted by a cute waitress.

"Hmm, well..."

I glanced around the store, with its bright pop music and -- ahh, someone had arrived ahead of me.

The newbie to the occult site Ikaigabuchi that everyone knew of as a wuss was sitting alone, and writing a letter rather fervently.

I tried to creep up behind him, the host of today's offline meeting, when--

Suddenly, cold wind swept through my soul.

With that damp sense of death, the scene of that day suddenly reawakened.

That time, appearing on the rooftop, that little girl with the red ransel.

That inorganic beauty and lonesome bearing, was vividly drawn before me.

"-- Ah, so that's how it is."

If that girl from then truly existed, and still lived somewhere.

And maybe, if they were still struggling through the other side of the darkness alone.

I swallowed my words there, and silently closed my eyes.

The ravens always know everything. And they never speak of it.

That's why they're misfortune, and beauty. Because they can see what their words would bring about. Because in the end, others can't change peoples' destinies. Because they know how sinful it is to speak of what they know.

That became -- starting over today -- my principle.

..... What? Isn't fortune-telling a combination of cold reading and hot reading, an occult style of therapy? Yep, that's right, exactly.

But, but I did say, didn't I? Generally?

That means, of course, that there're exceptions--

Because you know, this world is an abyss, and it's endlessly entertaining.

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