After hearing the story, Fukuda was silent for a while.
In fact, Yuka wasn’t very confident either. She had hardly ever conveyed something like this to others as a “story.”
Usually, she only needed to share a little about things that kids caught up in the event didn’t know. Those who had already seen the situation with their own eyes had no choice but to nod blankly at the unbelievable tales they heard.
Fukuda was in a similar situation, but the degree of difference was severe. At least Fukuda had no certainty regarding Kurosawa.
She hadn’t seen a girl with a katana fighting a monster that looked nothing like a human.
Still, Fukuda seemed to believe Yuka’s words to some extent.
“…When did she start using such powers?” Fukuda asked.
“I don’t know,” came the half-lie of a response.
It was true that she didn’t know, but it wasn’t like she had no guesses.
It must have been since birth. How exactly such a child was born into that family was a mystery.
Initially, Yuka wasn’t even thinking about whether Kurosawa Koto Ne was a person or a Yōkai.
Could there be a case where a person is half-Yōkai? It often appears in old tales, but Yuka had never heard such stories from her grandfather or father.
It was like she had never directly encountered Yōkai of a similar kind who are enshrined as gods in shrines.
“Now that I think about it, that makes sense. You’re not like her mom or anything.” Fukuda sighed deeply.
Why had she asked about when the powers emerged?
The conclusion was quickly drawn.
Kurosawa was nearby when Miura Mako was killed.
Kurosawa was the only one who survived, while Miura Mako was dead. And so was that Yōkai. That meant Kurosawa Koto Ne was the only one who had been looking at that Yōkai…
“…Huh?” Yuka felt a slight contradiction in that story.
Of course, the Kurosawa then and the Kurosawa now were different. There was no need to go back to that time; there were personality differences between Kurosawa at the beginning of the semester and Kurosawa now.
So, it wasn’t hard to imagine her standing there impassively witnessing such a situation.
Did she run away? No, if she had that kind of “personality,” she wouldn’t have run away. Indeed, it felt more like she was staring blankly at the scene and got swept away.
Yuka didn’t blindly trust her instincts. Aside from the instinct of sensing Yōkai, any “guess” always carried the possibility of being wrong.
However, even then… one very big hole remained.
“Why?”
Fukuda, noticing Yuka’s reaction, asked in curiosity. She put on a facade of indifference, but Fukuda wasn’t good at acting, so anger hidden in her voice could be felt.
“Back then, Kurosawa was different from now, right?”
“She was different. Honestly, looking at her now makes me frustrated. She seems much more human than when she was with Mako… Well, we didn’t spend that long together, and it ended in tragedy.”
While Fukuda said that, her expression seemed to contain something that bothered her. Yuka decided to set that aside for a moment and asked another question.
“Did Kurosawa listen to you all back then?”
“Listen well?”
“I mean… if you asked something, would she agree? If you told her to come here, would she come?”
“…That’s…”
Fukuda slightly frowned as she rummaged through her memories.
“I think so. At least, she didn’t refuse when Mako asked her to go anywhere.”
“…I see.”
Moreover, Kurosawa even followed along with the kids who bullied her. If she ever had the will to escape, Kurosawa would have run away too. The fact that she didn’t means she didn’t feel the need or necessity to think that way. Or perhaps she simply didn’t know how.
At least until Sasaki appeared.
If that were the case, that fact did seem somewhat unnatural.
Why had Yuka never heard of the existence known as Kurosawa Koto Ne?
That would be a different story from “Kurosawa.” If Kurosawa was truly a witness to the logging incident, it would have been a situation where testimonies needed to be made.
Wasn’t she a child who witnessed a brutal serial killer that the police had missed several times? The police couldn’t have ignored statements from such a child.
And surely, Miura-san would have heard the same logging testimony, and information would have naturally reached Yuka as well.
Yet, it hadn’t happened.
“What’s going on?”
Seeing Yuka go silent, Fukuda asked with a puzzled expression. This time too, Yuka decided to bury her answer.
It was still within the realm of speculation.
If it were her father or grandfather, she would have confided her thoughts and discussed them. However, no matter how one looked at it, discussing speculations about a deceased friend would be inappropriate.
“No, it’s just… I was briefly pondering something.”
“Really?”
In response to Yuka’s answer, Fukuda looked back at the window.
After sipping her coffee, Fukuda glanced at Yuka’s cup and said, “Aren’t you going to drink?”
“Ah, yeah.”
At those somewhat coaxing words from Fukuda, Yuka finally sipped from the coffee she had left untouched for a while.
*
“…Want to take a look?”
“Look at what?”
“About a girl named Mako.”
“……”
“Just because it so happened to come up in conversation. She loved making new friends. So when the teacher asked Kurosawa, she happily accepted.”
“Is that so?”
Yuka nodded.
“It’s a bit far.”
“We have plenty of time.”
“Well, it is vacation.”
The two didn’t necessarily talk while moving. They walked with a bit of distance between them.
After quite a while of walking, sweat started to boil from their bodies. Neither of them was the type to struggle in such weather, so they walked silently until they arrived at the graveyard.
Walking through the graveyard, which was landscaped like a nice park, the two stood in front of the grave marked “Miura Mako.”
Aside from the name and lifespan, there were no words inscribed on the grave.
Perhaps they didn’t know what to write. Yuka thought that the Mr. Miura she had first met last year didn’t seem like the type to usually have such a desolate expression. He appeared to have deep wounds.
After losing his daughter, perhaps he didn’t know how to deal with her death and left it blank. Later, when his heart calmed down a bit, he would plan to write.
Looking at the fact that he hadn’t yet done so…
Yuka and Fukuda stood in front of the grave, clapped their hands, and closed their eyes.
Yuka didn’t know what to say. She had never met Mako. By the time Yuka came here, she had already passed away.
As she contemplated what to say, one singular phrase crystallized in her mind.
“I’m sorry.”
Yes. That was the sentiment.
One could not save everyone. Yuka was doing her best in her own way, but like a handful of sand clutched in her fingers, people effortlessly slipped away through her fingers.
Protecting those she considered precious was all Yuka could manage at this moment.
“…She’s a kid who plays these days.”
Fukuda said.
The two opened their eyes.
“There’s another one, a boy. Um, he’s quite good-looking. I’ll introduce him when we have time.”
Fukuda continued the conversation quite naturally, as if she came here often.
“Yuuki is doing well too.”
“……”
Yuka knew what kind of situation that Yuuki was in. Fukuda couldn’t bring herself to tell him the truth about that kid.
They had been pretty close, it seemed. Including Kurosawa, would that make four of them?
“So, well, he’s doing well. You don’t have to worry too much. We’re thinking of going on a trip with the kids soon.”
Whether to call it natural or disjointed,
It couldn’t be helped that the more she spoke when the other didn’t respond, the more disjointed her words became.
Fukuda sniffled.
“…You might still be worried, right? I mean, Yuuki and I became friends because of you. Without you, maybe we wouldn’t have a single friend right now…”
After a brief silence, Fukuda poked Yuka in the elbow.
“Say something too.”
“Uh, uh…”
Yuka flustered for a bit, then slowly opened her mouth.
“Uh, um. Yeah. Don’t worry. Fukuda is doing well. And…”
“Kurosawa too.”
“Yeah, Kurosawa too.”
Yuka nodded.
One couldn’t ask anything of those who had already passed away. Usually, doing that would lead to some unexpected entity answering and creates bigger problems. It’s not something one should do unless they were extraordinarily gifted mediums.
Moreover, how could they call back someone who was dead while leaving a kid like this behind?
In this situation, just asking something would be quite rude.
“…You know, from what I heard, she seems like a really good girl. So… um, if I get a chance, I’ll come again.”
With those words, Yuka quietly stared at the tombstone.
Perhaps it was because the surroundings were unusually quiet.
It felt strangely as if the girl, seen only in photographs, was sitting and smiling here.
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