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"He must really like Nagase, huh."
"It's a pain for me, though-ssu. In elementary school, there was another boy I liked-ssu, and in middle school, I was right in the middle of puberty, so it was embarrassing and I hated it-ssu. Now? Maybe it's just momentum-ssu? Like, 'if it happens twice, it'll happen a third time,' or whatever-ssu."
So basically, she doesn't like the guy at all. Guess it won't matter how many times he tries, then.
"By the way," I asked, "what's with the way you're talking?"
"It's proof of friendliness-ssu."
"With 'ssu,' even if you hate someone, it sounds friendly-ssu. My eyes have been opened-ssu."
She declared this, but I denied it with a "No way that's true." Nagase ignored me.
"So, about the other day, and like, just generally... you're bothered by it too, right-ssu? The name."
"Well, yeah. You too?"
Nagase looked somehow pleased as she gave a big nod.
And just like that, the wall of awkwardness between us melted away, becoming thinner.
"At the elementary school entrance ceremony, the homeroom teacher looked at the class list-ssu. Then they blurted out, 'There's a boy listed in the girls' section!' and the entire class burst out laughing-ssu. That was rough-ssu."
Nagase, as if buoyed by the joy of finding someone who understood, launched into her story with surprising talkativeness.
"Kids can be cruel, right-ssu? After that, for a while, I even got teased about my randoseru color-ssu. 'Why is it red?!' they'd say. Made my blood boil, like I wanted to ask *them* if they wanted to be turned red-ssu, but back then, I couldn't stand up for myself and just ended up crying all the time-ssu."
As she spoke calmly, Nagase unleashed a kick that sent a nearby trash can tumbling over.
As one half of the beautification committee, I dealt with the scattered trash.
"Sorry," Nagase apologized, looking embarrassed.
"It's fine."
"Do you have a reason for yours-ssu?"
"Well, lots of reasons. Let's just say I got more bad attention for it than good."
I remembered a girl I was with, long, long ago, inside a den of malice. What was it she used to call me?
"The hiragana part makes it even more lovely, don't you think-ssu? I like it-ssu."
"Shut up. You can have it, then. Put it to good use."
"Oh, that's a great idea-ssu."
"What is?"
"The name-ssu. Starting today, I'm Nagase [His Name]-ssu."
My ears are ringing, but I didn't mishear that, did I?
"And you're Tooru-ssu."
"You mean we're swapping?"
"Ssu."
"Ooh, synergistic friendliness effect-ssu!"
"It's fine, though, right-ssu?"
"How is it fine...?"
From that point on, to Nagase, I became "Tooru."
But I never once called Nagase by any other name.
Because my own allergy to names was far more severe.

It had become the routine for Mayu and I to eat dinner in the hospital room I was staying in.
This was because there was no guarantee I could actually eat the dishes Mayu passed over due to her picky eating. However, within this medical facility, with an unreasonableness rivalling ancient edicts, the existence of leftovers was absolutely forbidden. Therefore, to refuse food that my stomach rejected, the only option was to secretly pass it off to someone else. In other words, it was the hospital's lovely way of making us appreciate that people can't live alone. That's a lie, though.

Thus, even Mayu, despite her usual all-out resistance to the hospital's dictates, had reluctantly agreed after my humble explanations. Dealing with food she disliked likely took precedence over dealing with other people she disliked.
And so, it was now dinnertime.
"Mii-kun, here."
"Yeah, yeah."
I just took the small bowl of pickled cucumbers from Mayu without touching them myself. If I left them, Watarai-san would end up eating them anyway. Somehow, that too had become a completely familiar sight. It wasn't like I was involved enough to force him to stop, telling him eating too much wasn't good for him.
The usual nurse had already gone to another room, so there was no one to scold us. She's really something else, that one.
Placing her tray on the side table, Mayu began dismantling the white fish meunière. She was meticulously removing every single bone. In that respect, she was the exact opposite of clumsy Nagase. Once, long ago, Nagase had peeled an apple for Itsuki, but after she finished peeling, there was a fresh red color clinging to the fruit. Nagase's dejected expression when she got her finger treated at the hospital on the way home is preserved in the album of my memory.
"Is something funny?"
Mayu's voice cut in. Apparently, I'd unconsciously recalled Nagase's excuses from that time on the way home – "It was someone's dark conspiracy-ssu! It was plasma's fault-ssu! I'm a prodigy who spent three years building a matchstick house-ssu! The apple peel is nutritious, so it's wasteful, so my hand slipped, and my mind wandered, and my blood flowed backward... I got told off!!" – and had almost chuckled aloud.
"It's nothing," I replied, my voice cracking slightly.
However, Mayu didn't just brush it off. Her expression changed to one of displeasure. Her chopsticks started stabbing violently into the fish, *zaku zaku*, and she gulped down her barley tea. It was a rough reaction, entirely different from the cold, standoffish attitude she'd shown the man who casually spoke to her on the way here from her private room.
"Maa-chan?"
I was ignored with a sullen pout. Today, she didn't bring her chopsticks to my mouth, just chewed her food in silence. Her movements and the way she used her chopsticks were actually quite refined. Perhaps because she'd lived the life of a proper young lady, acknowledged by all, her manners were impeccable.
But anyway, why had Mayu suddenly become so moody? Surely she hadn't read my mind. If she *had* mastered telepathy, the points of her chopsticks would likely be aimed straight at me, not the fish.
I'll try to sound her out later when we're alone. Or perhaps she'll bring it up herself. Through that exchange, I need to somehow get her mood back to normal—no, I should luxuriously aim for even better than normal. I need her to answer a few questions for me. This isn't the time for whining about "Maa-chan this" or "Mii-kun that."
After this, I'll go to Mayu's private room – we've been sleeping together lately – but before that, I need to take a bath, brush my teeth, and go to the convenience store to copy these notebooks.
And, while I'm at it, I have to go take a look at the newborn corpse that came into being six days ago.

What do people feel about the act of going to see a dead body, I wonder?
Fear? Curiosity? A sense of foreboding? Is it suspense? Horror? Mystery?
There are probably groups of four who'd walk along abandoned tracks just to get a look, and sensitive types who'd feel they'd received some message about fate and meaning and whatnot just from the act of discovering a corpse.
And this time, from my perspective, the first thing I thought of was danger.
Nawa Mitsuaki, who has likely become the corpse, hasn't been officially discovered yet. That's because the police are still treating her as a missing person. There's someone who killed Nawa and then hid the body, and hiding it means they don't want it found, so they probably won't be carelessly loitering near the hiding spot. I'm not particularly worried about that.
However, if an unrelated third party—in this case, a patrolling nurse or someone—were to spot me, false information might be given to the police officers diligently patrolling the hospital, leading to unnecessary misunderstandings and me being treated as the culprit. That in itself might spare Mayu from suspicion, so I have considered it as a Plan B. But it's still too early to decide to rely on that tactic. Because it's still unclear whether this case is directly connected to the culprit who cracked Mayu's skull. I must not forget that prioritizing *that* incident is my main objective.
I need Mayu to guide me to Nawa Mitsuaki's hiding place, judge the cause of death from the body, and then figure out the crime scene based on Mayu's story. To resolve this lack of information, I need to step into danger tonight.
Therefore, the first step is to restore Mayu's good mood.

In Mayu's room, we were nestled together as usual. I sat on the edge of the bed as if it were a chair, stretching my legs toward the center of the room. Mayu sat beside me, swinging her dangling legs like pendulums, her face set in a pout. But occasional yawns escaped her, so the force of her anger didn't quite penetrate.
"Hey, what are you mad about?"
Reaching my arm around carefully, so as not to touch her injury, I pulled her shoulder closer. The bitter taste of my self-deprecating thoughts from earlier spread in my mouth. But that too was neutralized by Mayu's warmth and scent fresh from her bath, and I didn't take my hand from her shoulder. Oh, well. Guess I'm happy, huh?
Her hair, washed while she presumably removed her bandages without permission and writhed as the water stung her wound; the flushed nape of her neck; her small, swinging feet – gazing at them up close, something inside me felt purified.
"Alright, I feel better now."
I'd sunk down and buoyed back up all on my own. Mayu really is something else; she refines happiness out of thin air. My worries vanished as brilliantly as a magician's dove. I'm willing to admit that, for a member of *Homo sapiens*, my mental structure might be overly simplified, but maybe that simple connection is what's good about it.
I decided I'd started to like myself a little. That's probably a lie, though.
"So, about—"
"Hey—"
Our words overlapped. The second time today. Naturally, I yielded the right to speak to Mayu.

Mayu's puffed-up cheeks deflated, and her eyes grew moist.
"Do you... hate me?"
"Whoa, no no, no no no, hold on!" Turning into a Kabuki actor, I denied it with all my might, pouring in enough force and passion to burn a thousand calories, practically giving myself a fever from the effort. It was a proper lie, though.
Mayu's eyes grew even tearier as she grabbed the front of my shirt.
"You hate me?"
"No, no, that's not it, ahh, Japanese is just... no, not that either. Of course I like you! I 'Ich liebe dich' you!"
Times like these are tough when you can't just be direct, huh?
"Itchy... ree... bedih?"
And she doesn't even know it.
Understandably, Mayu didn't exactly raise her hands and cheer, but the tears in her eyes lessened slightly.
"Then... isn't it fun when you're with me?" Her question flew out, slightly adjusted in direction.
"Because Mii-kun, even when you're talking with me, you never laugh."
...So that's what this is about. I feel like we had this conversation before. That time, hands and an umbrella came flying in to back up her words... And spurred on by that, I went flying too. Looking back, this guy others call "Mii-kun" really treats his life carelessly, doesn't he?
But still, what to do? There's no point unless it's a natural, cheerful smile, but I haven't been able to manage that so far, and it's not like consciously trying will fix anything. Besides, that kind of thing doesn't really suit me. I may be a high school student, but I'm not doubling as a baseball jock or anything. Though I *am* technically enrolled in a culture club.
"It *is* fun, that's for sure," I said, voicing a simple, spur-of-the-moment thought that maybe, just maybe, would counter Mayu's suspicious stare.
"If it weren't fun, why do you think I'd be spending time with Maa-chan?" Yeah, let's go with this approach.
"I dunno."
"Exactly, you don't know. Because it *is* fun." How about that? I thought it was a decent approach, reversing the logic in my own way.
"Then laugh!" She transformed from a logical child into a willful, innocent girl. Two small fists began to rain down intermittently on my upper body. She didn't hold back at all. She doesn't make adjustments like that.
Because Mayu is insensitive to wounds and pain. It's not that she doesn't feel physical sensations, but they have trouble connecting to her emotional sensitivity. Unless she were, say, punched head-on by someone she truly despised, like her former psychiatrist, she wouldn't register emotional pain from it. And the reverse is also true.
"Actually, my smile is so incredibly ugly and pathetic that I don't want to unveil it for Maa-chan." *It's a lie, though...* I desperately thought. *At least call me unattractive, not hideous.*
Anyway, I was just about to congratulate myself on a surprisingly good excuse when Mayu immediately denied it.
"That's not true! You know, it's, like, really cool."
*That's a lie*, I thought, not blushing in the slightest.
"Uh, so, um, does it really bother you that much if I don't smile?" *Liar*, my voice cracked and slipped with embarrassment.

"It's not that I *hate* it or anything! I just want you to be always smiley-smiley when you're with Maa-chan!!"
Makes no sense. But I have to understand, don't I? Uh, so basically, she wants me to imitate her? No, impossible. Maybe if I were a pretty girl, but I'm just an ordinary high school boy. Mayu, Nagase, Itsuki, Sensei, and Natsuki-san all tell me I'm not bad-looking, but that doesn't mean I can suddenly pull off cross-dressing or something. Besides, that's not even the issue here. My brain's short-circuiting. Thinking: terminated.
I gave up on trying to create a smokescreen and decided to just face it head-on, leaving whether I crashed and burned to fate. You could also say I just braced myself.
"I... can't really smile much," I said.
Mayu froze, her expression turning faintly serious.
"There's no excuse for it, and it's not the kind of problem effort can solve, so I won't make any more excuses. But... the times I'm with Maa-chan are when I feel the most relaxed, the most joyful, the most fun, the most pleasant... the happiest. I want you to believe that."
I didn't bite my tongue, my face didn't flush, and I didn't look away. For me, I'd managed to say it sincerely. I felt like it had gotten through.
Mayu brought down the fists that had stilled, hitting me once with each hand. And that seemed to be the end of it.
As if settling into a sulk, she buried her face in my thigh and groaned, "Muuu..." She wasn't convinced, but it seemed she had forgiven me.
With that, the tension in my shoulders eased as well. I ran my fingers through the river of Mayu's hair, still not completely dry.
So here I am, with a beauty fresh from the bath draped over my lap... well, that phrasing feels a bit off, but whatever.
Right then. After taking the long way around, as usual, shall we finally get to the main point?
"Hey, there are two things I want you to tell me."
"Nnmuuu..."
"The dead body Maa-chan saw... where is it?"
Mayu lifted the face she'd hidden, hissing like a threatened cat. Her reddened nose was revealed, along with the forehead where her scar peeked out from beneath the forest of her hair.
"Cheating isn't allowed!"
*Cheating?* Seriously? Your partner is a genuine corpse with zero chance of reviving as a zombie! It doesn't move, doesn't talk, doesn't laugh, and doesn't cry!
"It's impossible to cheat with a dead person."
"Doesn't matter! Dead or whatever, I don't like Mii-kun being interested in anyone other than me!" Mayu declared it flatly—as if it were obvious, indignant, and somehow utterly detached all at once.
That's some wide-ranging jealousy. Too bad there aren't any anti-monopoly laws for human relationships. But still, I can't help but feel drawn to that sensitivity of Mayu's.
The artistic temperament, I guess. Though that's probably a lie.
"It's not about interest. It's for self-defense, and for Maa-chan's sake. I'm just going to investigate a little."
"Nya? Mine?"
"Yeah. Maa-chan is in a bit of a dangerous situation right now." *Maybe, probably... no, definitely.* Actually, I have no proof.
Mayu's eyes darted left and right. After about as long as it takes someone to spit on their head and sit down for zazen meditation, maybe something clicked—*ching!*—her eyes stopped, facing forward.
"No."
Wha— She was as annoyingly firm as someone shooting down a breakup conversation at a bar.

Maybe my silent objection reached her; Mayu furrowed her brow and looked away sullenly.
"Because investigating means looking at the body, right? No, no, nooo!"
She rolled over as she emphasized the final "nooo". I couldn't exactly say I *wouldn't* do that. Because I did need to examine it.
No choice, then. If it's come to this...
"Okay then, Maa-chan, why don't you come along too?"
Her rolling stopped, leaving her lying face-up. Her gaze delivered a volley of question marks.
"You can come along to make sure I don't cheat." It wasn't really the ideal setup, though.
If she shot this down too, I'd just quietly give up and head straight for the convenience store.
"Ummm..." Mayu hesitated. She nibbled on her thumb, her eyes wandering around the room.
I guessed she was internally conflicted: *What a pain... and it's cold...*
"Ah!" Suddenly, Mayu tucked her legs beneath her torso and straightened up into a sitting position.
Then, Mayu's eyes met mine. Her eyes, with their already unusual irises, began to emit an intense radiance. It was a phenomenon that occurred whenever she talked about memories. I decided not to name it the 'Memory Trickle-Down Phenomenon,' because that felt too simplistic.
"Let's play explorers!"
"Well, something like th—"
"How nostalgic! After starting elementary school, we were always exploring all around the school, weren't we?!"
"Yeah, we were." (Playing along now.)
*Sometimes we even rode double on a unicycle, right?* (Fabricating memory.)
"The school felt sooo big back then. The second and third floors the upperclassmen used seemed like completely different places; it was exciting, *doki doki*, and a little scary. Sometimes the little vents under the walls were unlocked, and we'd sneak into the science room and places like that to play, remember?"
Mayu sniffled then, pausing her words. She looked up at me as if eagerly awaiting my response.
"Yeah, we did."
"Do you remember? My favorite place?"
"Yeah. The prep room next to the library." *Though I've never actually been there.*
Apparently, that was correct, as I received a beaming smile.
"You really do remember!"
"You liked spinning the globe, didn't you?" *Though I've never seen it.*
I'd only heard about it back when Mayu and I were living together that bleak time long ago.
"Uh-huh, uh-huh," Mayu nodded vigorously in affirmation.
"It was so fun..." Mayu murmured that single phrase, somehow distant, far away, like she was laughing through tears, her voice choked up. Almost like someone speaking after a funeral.
But that lasted only a moment. Mayu immediately reverted to the behavior of a little girl.
"Okay then, I guess I'll humor Mii-kun and return to my childhood self for this!"
"Wow, thanks!" My attitude was utterly insincere.
Mayu leaped off the bed, landing half-stumbling.
She pulled her shoulder bag, packed with changes of clothes, from the shelf and carelessly dumped its contents onto the bed. Clothes, spare pajamas, and even underwear scattered without ceremony. Then Mayu scurried around the room, proceeding with her own version of "explorer" preparations.
"Bread... knife... lamp..."
Hey, hey, hey! That second one!

"Confiscated." I snatched the fruit knife—tightly wrapped in a piece of terrycloth—from Mayu before she could toss it into her bag.
"Nooo! I need that to protect Mii-kun!" Mayu lunged for my right hand. *Aaaah! I'm holding the knife, you know!*
I gave in while it could still be passed off as a joke. If Nawa Mitsuaki's cause of death turned out to be stabbing, this would instantly put Mayu at the top of the suspect list. Worse, if we actually ran into the killer, Mayu could be accused as the real murderer for having it. Either way, it was extremely dangerous.
"All that's left is passionate determination and two eyeballs, and we're perfect!"
Mayu, carrying the determination of someone setting off to find a castle in the sky, slung her shoes by their laces over her left shoulder and came back to my side.
"Is Mii-kun empty-handed? What about leftover bread from lunch?"
"I've just got my wallet, gloves, and... those things on the desk, I guess."
The five university-style notebooks of Nagase's I'd brought from my room. They were currently sitting on the table.
"What are these?"
"My notebooks. I needed to make some copies."
Mayu pulled out one notebook and checked the contents. I braced myself, expecting a complaint like "This is a girl's handwriting!", but instead, I was gently reproached, "You need to practice your handwriting more." Nice one, Nagase! Your clumsy, cipher-like Japanese paid off. Though if I told her that, she'd probably argue back using a pillow or something.
I had Mayu put the notebooks in her bag, then got my shoes ready at her urging, and our preparations were complete. The time was 7:30 PM. Since we planned to move out a while after lights-out, it was still early.
I stopped Mayu, who looked ready to charge out heroically at any moment, and made her sit next to me. Worried she might fall asleep during the wait without even time for a yawn, I decided to ask her the location beforehand.
"Where are we planning to explore?"
"Um, the building that's there when you go outside once and go all the way around."
"Hmm... You mean towards the old hospital wing?"
"Right, right."
The garbage mansion currently treated like its own Yumenoshima landfill.
The old ladies' community gossip network said the plan was to demolish it next year, plant trees, and maybe turn it into a walking path.
"Should be fun..." she murmured uncertainly, like someone talking in their sleep, letting her feet swim in the air.
Mayu leaned against my shoulder and naturally took my hand. It was slightly smaller than Nagase's.
"Hey."
"Hm?"
Mayu's gestures, the look in her eyes, and her voice were striking, as if she were dozing off.
"Mii-kun... you don't laugh, and you don't cry, do you?"
"...That's true," I replied.
*Maybe it's because my heart is all dried up*, I wondered.

Forty minutes had passed since the 9:00 PM lights-out. Mayu, having miraculously managed to stay awake, and I left the room and started walking down the corridor, dimly lit only by the emergency lights.
"*Katsuun, katsuun*." Was she trying to replicate the resonant click of hard-soled shoes echoing in the dark, common in horror movies? Mayu provided the listless sound effect. In reality, there was only the *pata-pata* of slippers and the *tokka-tokka* of my crutches.

Mayu had changed from her pajamas into everyday clothes and slung her white shoes diagonally over her shoulder by their laces, clearly in a field-trip mood.
Even venturing outside today, perhaps because she was excited, or perhaps because sleepiness was getting in the way, her attitude remained soft.
"You're staying up late today," I remarked along the way, half honestly praising her, half disappointed. I had hoped she'd conk out during the waiting period. Mayu just gave me a reproaching look, clearly not pleased.
"You're treating me like a kid."
"Not at all. Good job, good job."
"Muuu, Maa-hyanhyamyou ohyo hya hyohyo ni..." She mumbled something through a yawn.
We went down to the ground floor, heading away from any rooms showing light. Since I'd embarrassingly failed to come up with a clever plan for smashing the front entrance lock and then magically restoring it upon our return, we decided to use the back door.
We advanced at a slow pace through a world tinted chemical green, like the inside of a phone booth, by the excessive number of emergency lights installed everywhere. Turning down a path opposite the direction leading to the lobby, we saw reddish-brown benches placed here and there.
We arrived in front of the emergency exit in the hospital's deepest recesses. In the corner of the dead-end corridor stood a fire extinguisher that looked like its term of service had amicably concluded long ago. Beside it, a mop, whose tip must have once been bleached white as silk floss but now resembled a festering grape, also stood guard leaning against the wall.
"It was always exciting, wasn't it, opening doors? Wondering what would be there, what you'd see?"
Mayu put her slippers away in her bag and took out her spotless shoes instead. She'd explained that the old wing had broken glass and stuff on the floor, making it dangerous for sandals. As she helped me change into my own shoe—just the one for my good foot—I replied, "Yeah, that's right," in a gentle tone.
Then, I grabbed the bare metal handle—cold enough to feel like harassment—twisted it, and even though it wasn't an emergency, the door opened.
We stepped outside the door. The place we stepped into was directly beneath the emergency staircase—a land of red rust—a location painted in shadow. Careful not to hit my head, I moved onto the ground where all the grass had withered away.
"Cold," Mayu complained, hugging my bandaged left arm without hesitation.
"Hey, I can't move like this." When I tried to peel her off, she clung on tightly like a teenager in a rebellious phase.
"We stay like this until we move."
"...Okay."
The wind, having lost the grass and trees it might have rustled, made its presence known directly to human skin and ears. Even with a cheap jacket thrown over my pajamas, it was doubtful the winter wind even registered it as resistance in its path. So as not to be tempted by the urge to turn back and huddle together with Mayu for warmth, I tilted my head, guided by the non-living cries swirling far overhead.
The night sky, clear with flowing clouds, was a pleasant sight. Gazing up at the scene, like a single painting where clouds were sliced in two by the strong wind yet continued to flow onward, helped take my mind off the cold, at least a little.