Kaori
It was long—far too long. Was she dead or something? How many minutes had it been since that girl went into the shower room? It had been years since I’d stopped needing to worry about my own appearance. Was I like this too, back when I was alive?
Living people really are a worry. I stood from the edge of the bed and knocked on the shower room door.
“Hey, are you okay?”
The sound of running water stopped. At least she was alive. Then there was no problem.
The door opened quietly, and out came the dripping-wet girl, wrapped in a large, dark-green bath towel. The profile tinged with blood had been beautiful, but the eyes peeking out from behind the droplets were just as lovely.
“I’m sure you realize this, but I’m already dead, so you can take as long as you like in the bath. I just worried whether you were still alive.”
Ever since I’d seen her watching the waves on the deck, she hadn’t spoken—not a word, not a sound. I could tell something frightening had happened to her. Or perhaps… maybe she had stopped speaking long before.
When I gently averted my eyes from her clear, light-brown gaze, she leaned into me, slowly.
“Are you sleepy? Hold on—you’re actually pretty heavy.”
For her appearance, she was more muscular than I’d thought. Holding her in a posture like we were about to dance a waltz, I carried her to the bed and laid her down—or rather, in the end, I let go and dropped her.
“Soaked through.”
Drops of water seeped into my blouse as well. I didn’t even know why I was wearing a pantsuit on this ship. Yesterday evening, I’d simply found myself here. I’d met a charming old man who called himself the Harvester, and he told me this world was going to close soon. My reaction had been, “Huh.”
I’d already died once, so words like “closing” or “ending” didn’t stir my heart anymore. All night, I’d quietly listened to the old man’s story. His voice, like a lullaby, had lulled me into brief, fragmented sleeps.
When the sun rose, and I was watching the morning waves that looked like they were both laughing and crying, I heard the pitter-patter of a child’s running footsteps.
I turned, and there stood a boy with an unusually cute face.
—He’s dead too. I knew right away, because I could see the same thin membrane around his body that surrounded me.
I recognized him. It felt like it would take a long time to remember from where—until the boy opened his small mouth.
“I’m Mamoru. I used to have a blue bird and a yellow bird.”
Ah, that boy. I’d seen him several times with parakeets perched on his shoulders by the window. But this was the first time we’d met outside.
“You’re Kaori-san, aren’t you?”
It clicked immediately.
This must be the Mamoru-kun Oze-kun often talked about.
I remembered—just before being locked away in the depths of dark memories, I’d been with him.
“Mamoru-kun, were you called back too?”
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“Yeah.”
With the air of something completely ordinary, Mamoru-kun gave a light nod. He was far calmer than I was, despite his childlike appearance—calmer than an adult like me, dressed absurdly as if I were heading to work.
“Big brother hasn’t caught the bird yet, has he?”
I had just been thinking the same thing.
“Looks like it. But there’s still time. Hey, want to explore the ship with me? Oh—have you met the old man yet?”
“Yeah, let’s explore! I met him already. I was in his room until just now.”
“I see.”
Mamoru-kun and I took our time exploring every corner of the ship, which was bigger than I’d thought. I was supposed to dislike children, yet I found myself liking him. Well, of course—he was a child who had already died once.
“This area has private rooms. Do you want a room of your own, Mamoru-kun?”
“Uh-uh. I want the old man’s room.”
“Me too. Maybe these rooms are only for the living.”
Just then, I heard voices outside, and a young, cute boy burst into the room.
I called him a boy, but he was an adult in his early twenties—maybe a little older. Anyone more than ten years younger than me seemed cute, but his features were especially youthful. His face quickly paled, and his glasses—no, the eyes behind those glasses—locked on Mamoru-kun. Looking at Mamoru-kun myself, I felt a chill for the first time. The innocence from moments ago had vanished, replaced by the gaze of an adult sizing up another adult.
The boy in glasses froze for several seconds, then fumbled to grab the knob of the door he’d just closed. “Wait!” The word escaped me without thinking, aimed at his back.
I wanted to know—how did I look to someone alive?
When our eyes met, he showed no sign of recognizing us. So, he wasn’t the one. I thought I should tell him—don’t worry, you didn’t kill us.
But instead, he slid down to the floor, trembling with his back against the door. Was he really that afraid? I was a little shocked. At some point, Mamoru-kun had moved in so close his face was almost touching the boy’s.
“I’m sorry,” the boy kept repeating, even though he had done nothing wrong, and then he left the room.
At that moment, through the gap in the door, I saw a man in a suit. His outfit was so out of place that I couldn’t help but wonder if he was dead too.
The door closed again before I could gather the courage to follow. Then Mamoru-kun murmured:
“Sorry… I was worried he might be trying to erase my brother.”
♢♢
Thinking back over the morning, I suddenly noticed the light-brown hair of the girl I’d laid on the bed was still damp. More than worrying about her catching a cold, I was concerned she’d end up with terrible bed hair.
“Get up for a second. If we don’t dry your hair, it’s going to stick up everywhere.”
I gave her shoulder a pretty firm shake, but she didn’t stir at all.
“Come on…”
Checking the bedside table, I found an outlet in plain sight. I brought a hair dryer from the washroom and directed the hot air at her head. Surely this would wake her—but she didn’t so much as crack an eyelid. The living one looked more dead than I did.
Since I couldn’t leave it alone, I switched it to high without caring about the noise. It seemed to be an old model—loud, but with a powerful blast. Keeping the airflow moving so as not to damage her surprisingly soft curls, I dried them carefully from a distance.
When it was done, I let my fingertips linger, enjoying the texture. It was completely different from my own straight, resilient, lustrous hair. I liked mine well enough, but this was nice too.
Outside, the light was fading. The weather looked ready to turn.
I wondered what she had been thinking while watching the waves. I could guess what she had done—because I’d been in a similar situation myself.
When Aochi-kun—he couldn’t see us, yet I felt a one-sided fondness for him—when he had leapt to the neighboring ship, my heart had leapt too, for the first time in a while. The life force I’d sensed from him since we first met had burst forth under the winter sun, and I couldn’t hide the smile that rose naturally.
Even after losing us, Oze-kun was spending his days with someone so alive. Oze-kun was happy. I wanted all three of them—the glasses-wearing Oomi-kun included—to survive.
Still, this girl probably wouldn’t wake for a while.
Mamoru-kun had gone to the recreation room, saying he wanted to “draw pictures with the others on Ululu’s clothes.” I wanted to go too. That Ululu kid was strange—his body was big, but he had to have been born only recently.
That was why his form was still so unstable. I was curious to see how he would grow, but… would there be enough time left?
I pulled the towel blanket back over the girl on the bed, her breathing as soft as her hair, and quietly stood.
I wanted to be with everyone after all. To spend what little time I’d been called back with the people on this ship. Even if Aochi-kun couldn’t see me.
Something warm closed around my wrist as I started to move. So this soft-haired girl’s hands were this warm? Surprised, I grasped it in return.
If I could catch the bird—maybe it would feel like this.
Lying on her back, her big eyes met mine. Still, she stubbornly made no sound.
“…Do you want to come with me?”
She gave a small nod, and with a lightness that made it hard to believe she’d been asleep, she climbed down from the bed.