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I denied Nagase, smiling—gloomily cheerful, eerily bright, a wide, unsettling grin spreading across my face.
"Well now, I wonder about that."

A beat later, as a reaction to her impassioned speech, Nagase's shoulders began to heave. It seemed the time I could freeze for her lasted only a sentence or two.

"I won't deny what happened a year ago. I flatter myself thinking you liked me then, Nagase, and I liked you too. That part's fine; it gets the official stamp of approval. But your affection now? That's a lie."

Her own feelings, denied as a lie.
Maiden Nagase looked utterly indignant.

"Why would you say that?"
Her anger was quiet. Still, no tears fell.

Why? If I pressed her, can Nagase really handle it, accept it, and then go back to talking about romance?
Might as well test it, I suppose.

It felt like being dealt a hand in Sevens where every card was a joker. You can always play a card, but you can absolutely never win. A game of isolation and fiction. Not much different from that, I played my unwinnable trump card onto the table.

"What if I told you I know the story behind why Maa-chan and Mii-kun were 'chosen' by my father?"

Nagase's composure didn't just change, it shattered completely, leaving nothing behind.
Her pale skin and sorrowful panic amplified each other, starkly visible.

"You've met my father before, haven't you?"

Nagase shook her head frantically, side to side. I continued without pause.

"The circumstances under which I first heard about this... well, my mind had basically shut down during that awful ordeal, so I'd completely forgotten. Right, Nagase Tooru. It wasn't until the other day, when you said in the hospital room that you used to be Mayu's friend, that I finally 'remembered.'"

I knew your name even before we met in high school.

"He was a real piece of work, my old man. Only kept up a normal facade on the outside. The look in his eyes, his mannerisms—he hid everything, acting perfectly respectable to anyone outside the family. He was influential in town, so plenty of people knew his face."

Mentioning his title was enough to make him seem the furthest thing from suspicious.

"A long time ago, Nagase, you liked Sugawara—or Mii-kun, rather, didn't you? My old man told me, mixing it in with his usual unhinged ramblings. He mentioned then that he'd granted your wish, too."

"No! That's not true!"
Ignored.

"A few weeks before the kidnapping, you met an older man with a kind face, Nagase. Back then, in our little town untouched by such incidents, kids weren't really taught to be wary of creeps. Besides, you'd seen his face in the local newsletter, so while you might have hesitated a bit, you decided talking to him wasn't dangerous."

I spoke definitively, narrating as if I were Nagase herself.

It's impossible to know what percentage is fact, like grading it against a model answer key, but for Nagase right now, only the basic framework matters.

"You hated Maa-chan for being stuck to Mii-kun all the time, Nagase. Maybe not her as a person, but you definitely weren't fond of her *presence*. Long story short, you were jealous."

Nagase offered no more denials, just hung her head. Feeling not even a shred of sympathy, all I could do was continue speaking matter-of-factly.

"You must have complained to the man about how cheeky and annoying Mayu was, venting all your personal resentment. You met him several times, and since he always responded kindly, you warmed up to him."

That was the trigger for the incident.
The beginning of the lie.

"But that man was in the middle of 'selecting' someone. A child who'd be 'rewarding' to torment. And then came your unexpected tip-off, Nagase. What's more, the girl you named was the daughter of someone he knew well. 'It's a revelation! Gravitational pull! Destiny!' he must have thought, receiving those crazy brainwaves loud and clear, full signal bars"—or maybe not, who knows if he actually thought that. Let's go for the dramatic interpretation.

"'I'll re-educate her for you.' That's the promise my father made to you, Nagase Tooru."

And a few days later, that promise was fulfilled.

"Why did Mayu disappear, along with Sugawara, who just happened to get caught up in it? You realized why, Nagase, and you were afraid. Afraid you'd be blamed. So you had no choice but to keep your mouth shut."

You resolved to hide your guilt, alone.

"I'm honestly impressed you kept quiet all this time. You have a conscience, you feel guilt like any normal girl, so I can only imagine the toll it took on your nerves, enduring it all without letting anyone suspect. Just thinking about it earns my respect."

In a way, it must have drained you more than it did us.

"Even after the incident was resolved, luckily for you, you weren't condemned. Because everyone who could have done so was either silenced or had lost their memory. You must have been relieved, right? Probably started sleeping better."

Nagase maintained her lack of reaction. Right now, she was the one who seemed far more like a doll.

If I had a personal musician, I'd have them play a requiem; that's how much the soul seemed to have drained out of Nagase.

"However, six years later, a third party popped up unexpectedly. That would be me. After the incident, I was semi-forced to start using my uncle's surname—Tooru. That's why you didn't realize who I was, Nagase. Not that you'd have wanted to know, right? Neither of us did."

"When you found out who I really was a year ago, you concluded I didn't know about your involvement, right? You figured that if I *had* known what you, Nagase Tooru, had done back then, being one of the people involved, I definitely would have brought it up. Yeah, well, you were slightly wrong about that. Then, a year later, you found out I'd started dating Maa-chan, and you got suspicious again. So you came back, using your sister's hospital visit as a pretext to sound me out."

And that proved to be a fatal mistake.

That turned into quite the trip down memory lane, but it finally brings us to the conclusion of the motive.

......Although, that probably wasn't the *only* reason.

I imagine when you went to visit her, Mayu was going on about 'Mii-kun, Mii-kun' as usual, noisy as ever, and you just struck out at her. Ah. And then there was the 'I'm sorry' written in the notebook, addressed to someone... and that other word.

But I didn't mention anything about that part.
I wanted that particular emotional mess, at least, to end cleanly, amicably.

Nagase's chin lifted, as if pulled by a string.
Her eyes were vacant, unable to meet mine even though I sat right beside her.

Her expression had regressed.
Back to her childhood, when she first shouldered that guilt.

"Why... haven't you told anyone?"
The question was faint, spun from the dregs of her worn-out heart, offered up empty-handed.

The thought crossed my mind that perhaps surprisingly strong connections, karmic bonds, lie dormant in bloodlines, passed down through generations.

"Because I have my reasons for not telling."
Triggering Mayu's memories is not something I welcome.

Besides, it's precisely *because* Nagase pointed the finger at Mayu, getting Sugawara involved too, that I'm now here, happy with Mayu. Can you call something like this fate, I wonder?

"You're in your uniform, so you're planning to go to school this afternoon, right? Work hard on your studies."

I put her bag in her hand and helped the unraveling Nagase to her feet.
"There. Stand on your own. I can't support you, Nagase."

Nagase's walking pace was far, far slower than even three-legged me.
It seemed like the very recognition that she was walking wasn't properly reaching her brain.

Her unfocused gaze drifted aimlessly.
And Nagase, whose mental circuits seemed completely fried, I left behind.

......Our breakup talk was over, after all.
I entrusted the final farewell to my lips.
"Bye-bye. Take care of your family."

---

"Miiiiiiii-kuuUUUuuun!"
Mayu, who'd been pacing restlessly around her private room, spotted me as I opened the door and launched herself at me. Apparently all set to go home, she already had her bag slung over her shoulder.

"It's not like I own Patrasche or anything, so you don't need to call my name quite so tragically," I said.
At this rate, a naked angel might descend next. Though I'd just turn it away for trespassing.

"We can finally go home! Maa-chan got tired of waiting!" Mayu beamed, still without a single word about the gauze taped to my cheek.

Mayu: injuries to both hands and her head. Me: right shoulder, various parts of my face, and, yes, my head too. Our sorry state upon discharge, making one almost forget why we were hospitalized in the first place, was dimly reflected in the dark TV screen behind Mayu.

"Good thing we made it in time for Christmas!"
"Hm? Oh, yeah. Right."

Ah yes, the event where, at the tender age of three, my mother explained the reality of Santa Claus point by point, surgically removing my dreams.
"Santa probably wouldn't come to a place like this," Mayu grumbled. Then again, maybe that white-bearded old geezer would peek in here, you know, for future reference. He's getting on in years himself, after all; probably ought to consider the possibility of hospitalization. Like mother, like son—the thought, utterly devoid of any shred of fantasy, welled up within me.

Anyway, does Mayu still actually believe flying reindeer are non-fiction? Judging by her tone, which held no aversion, it seemed she didn't quite conceive of them as 'living creatures.'

"Santa, huh... Is there anything you want, Maa-chan?" I asked out of politeness, though whether I could actually grant any material desires was doubtful.

But Mayu slowly shook her head.
"Nuh-uh, not anymore."
Her denial was absolute. Not a shred of hesitation.

"Up until last year, I asked properly every year, but now there's nothing I want."
"'Cause I have Mii-kun, right?" she added, hugging me again.

Moved by the emotions stirred by her words, I smiled through tears of joy... is not how things work for me. So I just patted Mayu on the back and murmured, "I see, I see."

I glanced out the window. The sky, covered in leaden clouds that looked ready to release the first snow at any moment, formed part of the landscape. We'd be taking a taxi, but Nagase hadn't brought an umbrella... Would she be okay, I wondered.

Thinking back on it all...
The bitterness that used to make me grimace was already gone.
Nagase Tooru, for me, had already been fully relegated to the realm of memory.

Just like the countless corpses I've encountered.
Memories... in that sense, they also serve as a graveyard for bonds, don't they?

"Mii-kun, you said before he doesn't exist. But Santa *is* real, you know!" Mayu flashed a smile, proud of her faith.

My sensibilities don't align with Sugawara's, but maybe our ways of thinking are just two sides of the same simple coin.

"Yeah. I'm sure he does."
I didn't mimic my mother and add, 'Just kidding,' though.

And so, side-by-side with Mayu, though without holding hands, we started walking out of the hospital room.

Together with the girl whose entire foundation for living was her bond with Mii-kun.
As the 'me' that I had chosen to be.

"Right, shall we go home?"
To the place where we belonged.

"'I want to go home,' someone murmured."

---

**Afterword**

It seems I may have caused some misunderstanding among you all, so let me explain again: the meaning of the "problem work" notation on the first volume's wraparound band is an expression of the editorial department's will, namely, "Don't send this kind of stuff to us!" It's that sort of thing, like a large corporation troubled by how to handle an unsolicited package addressed to 'Occupant'. I'm pretty sure that's a lie.

Anyway, this is the afterword. Hello to those meeting me for the first time, and hello again to the rest.

Now, about this work. Despite it being the first volume, I checked to see if it was being hyped with "Finally, the climax!" or if the editor had playfully tacked on "Part 1: Complete" at the end, thinking either would be quite amusing. As it turns out, neither was the case, so a sequel will be published.

Now, regarding this work, the most troublesome thing was the act of putting out a sequel; I agonized over the concept. In the first place, when I submitted it to the novel competition, I was dreaming of winning the prize and figuring out how to spend the money – a level of wishful thinking far beyond counting chickens before they hatch, more like practicing how to act cool when invited to a mixer while stranded on a desert island. If I could, I'd like to knead the brain of my past self. But I digress. Basically, I hadn't considered the possibility of the work being published, not even a little bit, so naturally, it was a struggle.

I have nothing but words of gratitude for the two editors who were involved in the production of this book under such circumstances. I was relieved that things turned out as I wrote they might in the previous volume's afterword, and once again, I look forward to working with you in the future.

Also, to Hidari-sama, who is in charge of the illustrations. I was surprised by your age when we first met. I look forward to receiving the rough drafts for the illustrations and cover art every time. Thank you very much.

And then, to the people who serve tea when I go to the editorial department for meetings. To the staff at the takoyaki shop near Nagoya Station. To my parents, who press me about when the royalty payments will be deposited as if they were debt collectors. I believe many other people have also been elements in shaping who I am today. Many thanks.

And to you, who are feeling the weight of this book in your hands, my utmost gratitude.
Thank you once again.

Hitoma Iruma

Hitoma Iruma
A university student steeped in Gifu. Came to publish this work without even submitting to the 14th Dengeki Novel Prize. Thinks that's perfectly fine. Reasonably blessed with various things, lives idly without making reasonable efforts. Thinks that's perfectly fine too. A slacker who speaks with an air of enlightenment, saying, "That's what happiness is, right?"

Hidari
Resides in Yokohama City, a Gemini. A freelance illustrator primarily working on card games, magazine pinups, etc. Lives a life like a hermit, out of touch with trends.

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**Lying Mii-kun and Broken Maa-chan 2**
**The Compass of Goodwill Points to Malice**

Hitoma Iruma

Dengeki Bunko

Issued March 28, 2013
© 2007 HITOMA IRUMA / ASCII MEDIA WORKS

This e-book was produced based on the following:
Dengeki Bunko "Lying Mii-kun and Broken Maa-chan 2: The Compass of Goodwill Points to Malice"
First Edition Issued September 6, 2007