---

---

Because I understand I'm at my limit.
If Mayu kills my sister, I'll inevitably break,
and if my sister kills Mayu, everything is bound to fall apart.

"`I won't be able to ride my bike. We won't be able to go to the festival. The bottle won't get filled all the way...`"

At least until I can ride my bike.
At least until summer.
At least... until one of them dies.

"`And more than anything else...`"

My throat tightens. My cheeks flush hot. Nausea churns, goosebumps prickle my skin.
But... I...

"`Telephone.`"
"`What Mii-kun does... with Maa-chan... We really won't be able to do that anymore.`"

I still have too much to lose.
So that I—even if the *me* she knows isn't me, even while that *me* is part of who I am—don't lose that *me*.

Mayu blinks more rapidly. She's not focused on what I said, but on my face. What's so strange about it? About this face?
What's surprising you? Why are your eyes wide?
Why, in a situation like this, are you smiling?

As if toying further with my confusion, Mayu murmured another disconnected line, lost in thought.
"`Huh?` *Phone?*"
"`Bring my cell phone. It's... near my shoes.`"

"`What are you—`" Just then, something in my field of vision—
"`With the camera... Mii-kun's face right now...`" Mayu lurched.

My sister grabbed Mayu's leg with both hands, yanking her down with desperate strength.
As Mayu tumbled sideways like a tipped bicycle, my sister, her face contorted in a terrifying grimace, scrambled on top of her.

In my sister's hand was a brand-new knife.
A clot of blood under her nose, eyes bloodshot, blowing bubbles flecked with blood.

Of course, she swung it down.
Of course, it stabbed home.

Mayu shifted her body just enough that the blade pierced her left shoulder instead of her neck. Still, she didn't even groan.
The instant the knife was withdrawn, she smoothly shot her left arm toward the ceiling.
She brought it down over her sister's hand gripping the knife, blocking a second strike. But against the force of her sister putting her full weight behind it, it was little more than a futile struggle.

And yet, even as her hair soaked in her own pooling blood, Mayu didn't look at her sister, didn't even look at the knife. Her eyes found mine.
*What should I do?* Her eyes seemed to ask, questioning the rightness of our 'promise'.
Just like when she'd lie on her back in bed, welcoming me into her upside-down world.
Completely casual, without a hint of strain.

In Mayu's limp right hand, she gripped the knife she had tucked away earlier.
My sister, oblivious, just desperately clenched her teeth,
leaving her flank wide open—vulnerable enough for anyone, even me, to stab.

So, if I gave the word, Mayu would kill her.
But if things stayed as they were, Mayu would be killed by my sister in the space of three blinks.
Mayu had passed the choice—the command—to me.
*That* Mayu.

There wasn't just one answer. But I could only choose one.
And I had to choose that answer. Quickly.

Even though I'd break no matter which one I chose.
Even though being able to choose at all meant I was already broken.

With nothing, not even resolve,

`I screamed.`

I screamed something. I denied something and affirmed something, forcing out a heart-rending shriek.
I ordered *her*—
Die.
And responding to that call—
The knife in *her* hand—

---

**Chapter 5: Me, Mayu**

I open the refrigerator.
I poke the chocolate I poured into the tray, checking if it's hard. ...Yep, it's ready.
I take the chocolate out and imagine the day I'll give this to Mii-kun.
......Waaah. Tears... lots of tears came out.
I wipe the one that fell on the chocolate with my finger.
Now I just have to wrap it and put it away properly.
I want to give it to Mii-kun soon...
I wonder when Mii-kun will get here...

---

The smell of incense wasn't as strong as I'd expected.
The heads of the students, semi-coerced into attending the funeral, buzzed and murmured. Their school uniforms weren't the proper black for mourning attire; they looked more like they were heading to the gymnasium for an assembly.
The invited students, even among classmates, were limited to only those in her specific class, highlighting just how perfunctory this funeral was. If anything, some students seemed excited by the novelty of being officially excused from class on a weekday, different from the norm; it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say a sort of pseudo-field-trip atmosphere permeated the air.
All in all, it was a funeral befitting students. As one myself, I lacked the spirit to condemn it.

My turn came to enter the hall. I passed a pair chatting about their plans for the afternoon as I stepped inside.
In the corner of the room, her body was firmly fitted into the coffin. She wouldn't be getting out.
In the displayed photograph, she was smiling. As someone who knew her when she was alive, I couldn't help but find it incredibly dubious. That's a lie, though.
I put my hands together, prayed, said just one word to her, and left the room.
It took a little effort to find the shoes I'd taken off at the entrance.
They'd been used as stepping stones by the students who came after me. I put on the shoes, whose white base was now patterned with gray dirt, and left the funeral hall. Outside, the sky was clear, the kind that would be crowded with thunderheads in summer, and it felt high up. However, the wind still felt like winter; the kind of day where, in a coastal region, a whale might sneeze itself into flight.

I followed the wall around to the back. A single bicycle was parked safely and demurely on the side of a no-parking road. Its work ethic, waiting immovably even for the return of its master's attendant, did not shame the spider lily pattern and "Girly Tick" tattoo on its frame. Mostly a lie, though.
I unlocked it. Kicking off the ground to correct my direction, I listened to the music of the wheels heading toward my next destination, letting the sound carry me away.
Time for this outsider from another class to make his exit.
I slowly distanced myself from Ichimiya Kawana's funeral hall.

Ichimiya Kawana's bludgeoned body was discovered in the same location as Souda Yoshihito's murder scene. This wasn't a coincidence, but rather an artificial state resulting from the culprit, Biwashima Yagoto, discovering Ichimiya, murdering her and evolving her into a corpse, then dragging her to the designated spot. Her motive, apparently, was "because there's no need to stain the world with blood in two different places." Such consistency in her principles makes one lament her future prospects—if she hadn't taken that one wrong step, she could have capably served as the founder of a new religion. That's a lie, though.

Said Biwashima Yagoto has already been arrested on suspicion of murder. The one who slapped the cuffs on her was, yet again, Kamiyashiro Natsuki-san. This time, it was reported as a great success where she used her "karate that stops inches from murder" to dispatch the villain, tearing one limb off after another. One can only call it the work of a demon.
Natsuki-san, now being hailed as the savior of this murder town, seems genuinely annoyed by it all. When we met up for our date yesterday, she started the conversation cheerfully with a smile, then promptly pulled my ear. "`Listen, from now on, please rely on the police immediately. You yourself are in danger, Mii-san.`" Up to that point, she was playing the good person. But after that, she made me pay for the entire meal. Soon it was lunch, then halfway through lunch, then a reluctant post-lunch snack, then three o'clock snacks, and even souvenirs—it was a healthily expensive date. I had to borrow money from Natsuki-san to cover the difference. I tried praising Natsuki-san's generosity, thinking, "Wow, a well-off adult sure lends money easily without collateral," but I felt like something was fundamentally flawed in that premise. The total borrowed amount of 2,940 yen is scheduled for repayment next time. If I have it, that is.
During that encounter, I heard Biwashima's motive from Natsuki-san's lips.
"`Two-timing?`"
"`Apparently, Yoshihito-kun was two-timing her. And she confessed to him knowing he already had a primary girlfriend, volunteered for the role, and played the part of the woman in the shadows. A girl of misfortune, just like me.`"
"`Fermented, you say? She must have stuck with him quite persistently, enduring and bearing it all.`" (Wordplay: hakkou (発酵 - fermentation) vs hakkou (発幸 - confessing/applying))
"`Indeed, quite. Mii-san, you also have a thread coming from your little finger; were you ever wrapped in straw or something?`" we chatted, and then,
"`You see, Mii-san was the kind of guy who didn't mind two-timing. Even while being scared of Kawana, he'd accept my suggestion with a breezy 'sure,' with a smile completely free of malice—that's the kind of person Mii-san is. Well, I was stupid back then for wanting such a thing, though. So, about a year after we started timidly dating in the shadows, Kawana came to me for advice. Something about how to make her physical relationship with Mii-san smoother, or whatever. First, I was exasperated, thinking, *Is this girl an idiot, asking me that with a blush?* But then, learning they were doing that kind of thing... something in my head got twisted, like a water faucet, I guess? My emotions just started pouring out... My world felt even more cramped. I felt like the water level had risen too high, starting to cover my mouth. Killing the dogs and cats was meant as practice for murder. For killing Mii-san. But gradually, the tactile sensation on my palms when hitting them with the wooden sword, the color of the blood gushing out stickily... the transmission of those five senses only came through about halfway, my head felt foggy, and it was starting to become a daily routine. I hadn't decided on a specific date to kill Mii-san, but on February 14th, because he didn't accept my chocolate... I just snapped. On impulse. Unavoidably. And that concludes the dramatic reading of her confession summary, with emotional parts uniquely embellished by yours truly. Please enjoy by replacing the 'Mii-san' parts with 'Souda-kun'.`"
What a waste of effort. Also, substituting Mayu for Kawana is also acceptable. That's a lie, though.

Honestly, that Biwashima. She never showed me a shred of honesty, yet she acts all penitent with the police.
I guess I just convinced myself that I must have been more detestable and avoidable to her than the police. Or maybe she simply wanted to vent to someone of the same sex. Her New-Age world theory might have just been her trying to find common ground with me.
Well, it's not inconvenient if she had multiple motives. It just happens that the ones who didn't align with both her values and emotions were the Souda Yoshihito she loved and her best friend Ichimiya Kawana.
Ultimately, no matter how you verbalize relationships, the deciding power lies only within the heart.

Also, Natsuki-san filled me in on what happened after I left the scene midway.
"`Hypothetically speaking,`" she began.
"`Are you talking about the probability of Mii-san respecting his elders increasing if we split the bill for that fried shrimp set meal?`"
"`No, the profound proposition of whether it would be okay to bear Mii-san's child.`"
"`Ah, excuse me, grape juice just came out of my nose... Water refill, please.`"
There was also that exchange, but that's another story.

Apparently, on that day, several minutes after I had dashed off towards Mayu and my sister, Ichimiya encountered Biwashima. And Biwashima, fair and square, swung her wooden sword in a surprise attack from behind, making Ichimiya the second victim. Thus, this incident was forced to change its title from the "Dog-Cat-Human Beast Pulverization Murder Case" to the "Dawn of the Crazy Couple Bizarre Death." Not entirely true, but if I hadn't abandoned Biwashima, Ichimiya might have been saved. Fate and circumstance are cruel things, I declared, shifting the blame. That's why I still have doubts whether the words I spoke to Ichimiya at the funeral were the right ones.
"Since it would all be over if reported anyway, I decided to do one last cleanup," was Biwashima's statement. She was a model member of the Beautification Committee, leaving a place cleaner than before she used it. That's a lie, though.

And so, upon receiving my phone call, the police apprehended Biwashima, bringing this case to an amicable resolution. Biwashima was caught red-handed destroying Ichimiya's corpse. She offered no resistance but reportedly grumbled, "`Senpai's so cheap, couldn't you wait five more minutes?`" Now, I can confidently refute this, but I am not a miser. To think she'd describe me—a guy practicing the correct way of dating as advocated by a rural high school girl who pours Higuchi Ichiyo notes (5000 yen bills) into meal expenses with a woman of suitable age—as, if anything, "somewhat financially insecure." Ah, wait, that was Natsuki-san's line.

"...... Hmmm."
In addition to my thoughts, the concert of the wheels was getting old. Since I was speeding down a road with no traffic lights, I couldn't find a rest stop square either. My wallet is about as empty as a teenager's daily life, so I don't even qualify for a lemon tea at a cafe. Lacking the will to live by sucking fresh blood, quenching my thirst seemed likely to be postponed for quite some time.

"`...`"
I closed my mouth, thinking the wind would dry out the water if I opened it. I wanted to close my eyelids too, to reinforce my defenses, but bleeding out in an accident would defeat the purpose of conserving water, so I restrained myself.
I'm bored.
Cycling through town without being chased by a high school girl armed with a wooden sword, without being aggressively interrogated by a vengeful crazy couple with a metal bat, without being kicked by my knife-wielding, constantly-running sister, is peaceful and leaves me with too much time on my hands.

It's still a long way to the Municipal Hospital.

"`Ooh, Mii-gyuuu!`" ("Mii-hug!")
"`Mmhmm, Maa-chan seems energetic too,`" I said, my buck teeth gleaming under the cocktail lights. That's a lie, though.
As if the days from three months ago had rewound, the scene before me was Mayu lying in the same private room of the same hospital.
The colors, the excessive heating, the nameplate outside the room. None of that had changed; only the location of the patient's protruding bandages was different.
Her bandaged right arm was in a sling at her shoulder, and her left shoulder was also heavily protected. Currently, orders were given to keep both arms still and unusable, leaving Mayu quite indignant, cross, and furious. That might be a slight exaggeration, but please assume at least one of those applies.

I sat down on the bed, half-reclining. Mayu then settled her bottom between my legs, leaning her body against me. The true path of a lovey-dovey couple involves embracing shamelessly face-to-face, but for now, we have no choice but to settle for the runner-up cuddle. That's a lie, though.
Still, it was fortunate Mayu is smaller than me. If the size difference had been enough for her to overpower me, my goosebumps would have died from overwork.

"`Nya? Smells like incense.`"
Mayu's nose twitched as she sniffed me out. Then, her lips formed a pout.
"`Where did you stop by before coming to see Maa-chan?`"
I'm being interrogated. Don't tell me this kid suspects I was having an affair with a widow at the funeral home?
"`Just popping by to grab some funeral manjuu,`" I said, embarrassed by my own words. What kind of excuse is that?
"`Nuh-uh! You come see Maa-chan first! No dilly-dallying!`"
Mayu bumped the back of her head against my chest, scolding my infidelity.
"`Mii-kun should just get hospitalized too.`"
Still facing forward, Mayu softly murmured her number one wish. An alarm went off in my head, and I quickly scanned the room for vases, but found none.
"`Maybe I'll check out tomorrow~`"
She kicked her legs up and down violently, watching my reaction. "`No way.`"
"`Mokyaaa!`" Mayu's heel struck my ankle directly.
"`You need to heal, otherwise it's inconvenient for you, Maa-chan.`"
"`Not aaaat all. Mii-kun's here, after all~`"
She rubbed her cheek against my chest. Looked up at me pleadingly.
"`See? Look!`" Mayu tried to win me over with a smile. My mouth was already poised to produce "That makes sense." However, the factory manager, my spinal cord, wouldn't grant permission.

...Yeah, that makes sense.
I placed my palm on Mayu's head.
Careful not to mess up her hair.
"`Let's rest here a little longer. Yep, decided.`"
"`Don't just breezily decide things concerning Maa-chan!!`"
Mayu bounced on her butt hard enough to make the bed springs creak. Since the only ways to relieve boredom in the hospital are morning naps, afternoon naps, and night sleep, she seemed to have boundless energy. Though I feel like she's always like this.

Wiping the sweat from Mayu's brow after she'd worked up a good sweat, I announced one plan for the future.
"`Maybe I should study cooking.`"
Mayu looked up at me, blinked, and went "Nyu?"
"`Hoh~ Mii-kun's gonna... But maybe Maa-chan will learn to ride her bike faster~`"
Mayu showed her childish competitive spirit and grinned defiantly, "Nyuhih."
"`Maa-chan won't lose to a Mii-kun who can't even make a snowman out of an apple!`"
How about becoming an alchemist for your next career consultation?
"`...Well, for both of us,`"
It's a long way off for various things, but,
"`Let's try our best not to give up, okay?`"
At those words from me, Mayu smiled sloppily, "Niheh."

"`Really?`"
"`Mmm, sounds like something Mii-kun would say.`"
"`That kind of backward-looking brightness is exceptional.`"
"`My, being praised by Maa-chan makes me feel doubly moved.`"
"`Kyuu~`" "`Kyaa kyaa~`"
This is what feeling alive is like, right? This moment, gripping my sweaty palms, glad it's a private room. If any acquaintances or God were peeking at us now, death would be unavoidable. For them or me.

............Am I alive?
So many people were killed right before my eyes. Not a single one succumbed to old age or illness.
But, looking back.
If they hadn't died, I wouldn't even have been able to live.
Because the foundation of life is death.
Though, as a result of oversupply, I ended up like this.

No, maybe that's wrong. It's still technically past tense, isn't it? I look up at the ceiling.
Right, Sensei?
"`...Somehow, I ended up looking like I'm gazing at the sky, mourning the deceased.`"
"`Nyagi?`" "`It's nothing, Maa-chan-sensei.`"
Mayu squirmed subtly. Hmm. "`...Beautiful female teacher.`" "`Kyafu.`" "`Adult school nurse.`" "`Nofunofu.`" "`Systematic nursery teacher.`" "`Muu.`" "`Salaryman mature woman.`" "`Nigyaaa!`"
What a delightfully amusing child she is. Though I'm clearly not right in the head.

......This recent murder case.
Just an event where people were killed based on one person's convenience.
Getting involved in such a commotion yielded a harvest that wasn't bloodstained.
I understood a little more about my own missing parts, and it became easier.
It's not like a lizard's tail or a sea cucumber's guts, so regeneration is absolutely impossible, but.
It became easier to fit in.
Even so, it became somewhat easier to live.
Where in the world is there room for me to fit in?
Where should I resign myself?

Reconfirming my own measure, I obtained the means to live accordingly.
To compare it to a poet... maybe it's like gathering the scattered fragments of my heart into a dustpan? What's this? Like a student reluctantly cleaning up broken window glass from club activities, it feels unrefined, or rather, rustic.
Well, whatever. From now on, I'll keep an eye on myself so I don't throw it away.

Mayu turned over in my arms and stared intently at my face.
"`I saw something good the other day.`"
The other day... Ah, the incident with my sister?
The event that required effort to clean up the blood and smell in the bedroom, and various other aftermaths.
That outcome, where I unusually didn't tell a lie at the end, yet met an unexpected conclusion.
"`Dropping the 'ra' in potential form verbs isn't something this old man approves of... So, the 'good thing' was, like, the local sea?`" (*Note: Reference to Japanese grammar point*)
"` All that's left is to smile, and it'll be complete.`"
"`......? Hmm, uh, good luck?`"
"`Mmm, I'll do my best,`" she said, forming a V-sign with the middle and index fingers of her restricted left hand.
I had a very bad feeling.
"`Secret technique, Zaku!`" ("Stab!") "`Zagya!`"
Before I could even form rock, she eye-poked me. It was, as they say, swift as the wind.
This intense pain—if the opponent weren't Mayu, I'd be showering them with curses in dialect to inspire awe. I want to writhe enough to miss bending over backward like a shrimp. I dig my nails into my forehead to endure.
"` Making it a habit is also important.`"
"`.........I don't get it at all.`"
I can only see dimly ahead.
What an uncertain future we have.

......Ah, come to think of it.
What should I do about visiting my sister's grave?

Because they, those girls, were killed, I am here.
May this life someday reach the point where it can become the foundation of that death.

---

**Afterword**

Looking back on this past year.
* The first day I visited the editorial department, the bullet train was delayed. I arrived three hours late for my appointment.
* When I first met Hidari-san, I naturally brought a signature board. As a result, I successfully obtained a signature.
* When heading to the editorial department for a meeting, I didn't get lost the fourth time, but became a lost child in Ochanomizu the fifth time.
* In the essay corner on the Dengeki Bunko homepage, my pen name was listed as 人間人間 (Ningen Ningen - Human Human).

And so, this was the third volume of the story about a boy and girl whose hearts are like Spelunker.
Feel free to use it as a wedding favor or something. Though I obviously can't take responsibility.

Since this book somehow became part of a series, it might be slightly difficult to understand the contents without reading Volume 1, so I cautiously recommend purchasing it. However, you can manage without reading Volume 2. But, unless you're an odd-number maniac, if you enjoyed this volume, I would be very happy if you purchased Volume 2 as well. It would be even more fortunate if you didn't think too hard about things like "So what if some total stranger is happy?"
That was an advertisement for those who only have this volume on their shelf.

My deepest thanks once again to the two editors who put so much effort into producing this book. At this point, I can't sleep with my feet pointing towards them. For now, I'm making sure not to point the soles of my feet east.

And then, to Hidari-sama, who could be called both the illustration manager and the sales manager. There are times when I push myself to finish the work just because I want to see the illustrations and covers sent via the editor. You've become the carrot dangled in front of the horse; please keep lowering it more and more.

Also, to the book designer. My parents, whose catchphrase has become "Get to work." My taciturn computer, which works without commenting on my muttering during writing. I am grateful, as if anew, that there are so many to thank. Thank you very much.

Unless I get cancelled, next time I plan to try getting trapped somewhere.

Thank you very much for your purchase (applying pressure to those who read it standing up or borrowed it).
Hitoma Iruma

---
**Hidari**
Illustrator living in Yokohama, Gemini. Primarily works on card games, magazine pinups, etc. Lives like a hermit unaware of trends.

**Hitoma Iruma**
XX-year-old from Gifu. Often told he's a lucky guy. In fact, for the past two years, most things have been resolved by "somehow working out" rather than "figuring out how to make it work." He thinks that's quite wonderful. It's good to have something other than yourself to rely on, thinks this optimistic idler, thanking something daily.