With this, the element that tied the kidnapping victim to this place was truly gone.
"Um... Mister?"
"Not now. But I'll remove it tonight."
I relocked the shackle and, pretending I hadn't seen their faces or heard their voices, I left the room.
I went to the bedroom, where the curtains were drawn, and sat on the floor instead of the bed, waiting for Mayu to wake up.
By 9 pm that day, Mayu and I were lying on the bed.
Unusually, Mayu was still conscious, and we both were just lazily laying around.
Out of boredom, I played with Mayu's hair, parting it with my fingers and playfully pinching her earlobe.
Wow, her ear seemed to flutter faintly.
Mayu was still in her pajamas, probably going to take a bath and then change into another set soon.
With innocent eyes, made peculiar due to her condition, Mayu asked me a question.
"Does Mi-kun like older women?"
Should I respond with enthusiasm? But then,
"You're friends with that liar. If you get along with someone as crazy as her, the only thing I can deduce is that you like older women."
If my teacher heard this, she'd break her vow of non-violence.
"I like beautiful older women, but it's not like I have a fetish for..."
"I want to grow up quickly."
If my teacher heard that, she'd probably wander behind the shrine at the witching hour.
"Why am I the same age as Mi-kun? Why am I young? Why am I Mayu? Why am I... me? Am I... myself? Hmm, hm?"
Mayu sang her philosophical questions like a children's song and then suddenly furrowed her brows. Her eyes shifted to the left, as if peering into her own psyche. It was a sharp, narrow look, as if her query was so advanced it caused an error.
"Mi-kun."
"What is it?"
"I hate myself."
She said it in a tone with a narrow range of inflection. Her demeanor was a mix of the Mayu from class and the more intimate "Ma-chan" when they were alone. I felt something abrasive in it.
"Why all of a sudden?"
Mayu made a face devoid of emotion.
"I don't know, but I just felt that way."
"Well, I like you."
Was I talking about myself or Mayu? Or was it just a lie?
Regardless of the true intention, I tried to be vague.
"Do you know why I hate myself, Mi-kun?"
It wasn't effective. Mayu's eyes were shaking, seeking an answer.
"Who knows? I don't hate Ma-chan."
I gave a blatantly false reply. Mayu gave a half-hearted response and turned her face away.
Her hair flowed, lightly covering her exposed shoulder. Unlike her arms, Mayu's shoulders showed no scars. They were as dazzling as a salt lake, giving off a cold impression in their pure whiteness. It felt like if I pressed them with the pad of my finger, they might crack. I pull Mayu close. My arms, by no means large, easily encircle her petite frame.
"Hey," I say, and she rolls over to face me, flashing a slack smile.
"What is it? A kiss?"
Ah, she's back to her normal self. Perfect timing.
"Do you like me, Ma-chan?"
With a sleepy demeanor, Mayu nods ambiguously and smiles.
"I really, really love Mi-kun."
"Is that so? I see."
Damn, I'm almost moved to tears.
"And Mi-kun?"
Curled up against my chest, Mayu returns the question.
There's no need for me to playfully reply with, "I think the girl in the next class, Oguchi-san, is wonderful."
"I love you."
"Huh? You don't *really* love me?"
"I love you so much I could die."
"Me too."
She smiles without any reservations. I'd say Ma-chan's feelings are more along the lines of loving me so much she could kill.
"Hey, Mi-kyun."
She called me by a name that's both a demotion and promotion in its intimacy, a bit humiliating. I retort.
"What is it, Ma-tan?"
After saying that, I feel so embarrassed I could write a suicide note.
Mayu snuggles closer to me. It's as if she wants to merge with me, pressing her body tightly against mine. Her breath on my collarbone tickles.
I can feel her lips part against my skin.
"Smile."
"... Hmm."
On this matter, after considering the seriousness of the situation, and after much deliberation, I find that I'm unable to give a quick answer because of the Japanese tendency to avoid giving a direct "no." If she's happy, then I'll "smile."
"Can't do it?"
I feel like something is constricting my throat, brain, and chest all at once.
Mayu has asked me if I'm happy.
It's like a chain reaction that started with that other person.
This must be some kind of cosmic prank.
My eyes feel like they're about to pop out of their sockets from the intense burning sensation of frustration.
The view outside the window blends with the one from the infirmary, morphing into a watercolor painting of another world.
"When I'm like this, I feel so warm, and I can smell Mi-kun, and I feel so... happy."
She draws out the last word, blinking often and shedding tears of fatigue. Mayu's consciousness is blurring, blending the line between wakefulness and sleep.
"I'm... kinda sleepy..."
What have I learned from the time I've spent with this girl?
"You should sleep. After all, you look more like Ma-chan when you're asleep."
I can't express the emotions that feel like they've been granted to me.
"But I'm not a kid, so I want to stay up..."
"That's what makes you sound like a kid."
Which of the emotions crowding my heart stands out the most: joy, anger, sorrow, or pleasure?
Who can distinguish them apart from me?
"Okay, set off on a journey in the world of dreams."
...I understand, I think I do now.
I decide to postpone giving an answer.
After all, a prison of time awaits me shortly.
"Hey, smile for me."
"... Okay."
Without a mirror, I can't judge my success or failure.
Without opening her eyes, Mayu fades into unconsciousness.
Her sleeping face, neither fortunate nor unfortunate, is just as it should be.
I accept this situation as normal, as an everyday occurrence.
"... Well."
It's likely that this is the only opportunity I'll have to use a sleeping pill on her. Adding it to her tea provides a unique thrill. I wouldn't be surprised if some people got addicted to such actions. Perhaps the culprits of past poisonings were secretly addicted to the sensation. I roll Mayu over and wrap her up in the sheets, like a white spring roll. After finishing this task, I get off the bed. I don't move immediately, instead choosing to gaze upon her sleeping face.
I stare intently, burning the image into my hippocampus.
So it can become a memory.
"...I'm sorry for lying."
I offer my sincerest apology.
I leave the room and close the door behind me.
Moving through the dimly lit living room, I head to the back room to remove the shackles as promised.
Two sets of eyes, surprisingly clear despite their circumstances, challenge my actions with skepticism. After freeing the two of them, I rise and answer them in a soliloquy-like manner.
"I'm sending you both home."
And then, I will end this.
First, I decide to wash them off, not for any deep reason, but just to cleanse them.
"Here, a bath towel. Your clothes are being washed now, so when you come out of the bath, wear these shirts and wait."
I quickly hand Kotaro a change of clothes and a towel. The two seem puzzled by my actions, constantly tilting their heads in confusion.
"Um, mister... um..."
"What, you're too embarrassed to bathe together? Siblings can bathe together from ages six to twelve. Be proud."
I cut them off abruptly, urging them towards the bathroom. I push their hesitating figures inside, telling them, "Please finish within an hour," and close the door.
"Hey! Listen to us!"
"I said cool your heads and come out."
"This is a bathroom!"
Even though it's not the time for comedic exchanges...
I sit in the short corridor connecting the entrance to the living room after locking the two in the bathroom. I turn off the lights, letting the darkness envelop me, allowing the heightened tension in my heart to calm. Perhaps this is what smoking feels like.
My eyelids flutter irregularly, enjoying the subtle difference between the darkness inside and outside of them. The blackness behind my eyelids feels more profound. It felt like a convenient representation of myself.