Boogiepop Returns VS Imaginator Part 1 Page 2
Sawako grew uncomfortable in the silence, and began locking her fingers together on her knees.
“Um, Asukai-sensei. . . ?”
He didn't respond.
He had a pointed chin and a thin face with a serene beauty to it. He was not much older than Sawako, just past twenty. He was a student at a public university but he taught art part time at this cram school. And he had taken over the highly unpopular position of guidance counselor.
She looked up at him timidly. At some point, he'd taken his eyes off her and was staring out the window.
“I-I'm sorry, this all must sound crazy. . .” Sawako whispered, unable to stand it any longer.
Quietly, Asukai said, “As a teacher, I know I'm not supposed to say this. But maybe you should try not to take exams so seriously.”
“What do you mean?”
“Getting into the best university isn't going to relieve you of your worries. . . or guarantee your future,” he continued, almost like he was reading some inspirational pamphlet. “I know a lot of people who slaved away, got into college, and then had no idea what to do once they were there. All they'd ever done was study, and they didn't know how to just let go and enjoy themselves. So they'd go off to try and pass the civil servants exam or something. They were just pointlessly limiting their options for a. . . I dunno, a decent future. They meet the person they were supposed to fall in love with, but they don't recognize how valuable they are, and before they realize it, they wind up missing out on the most important things in life.
“They're college students, but they can't shake the exam student mentality. And very few people can pass on their first try. Most people fail. They become ronin. They fritter away their precious youth, and end up, frankly, really screwed up because of it.”
She just sat there listening, wide-eyed.
“You see?” Asukai asked, turning towards her.
“Umm, not. . .”
“You already know this, don't you? But you're doing your very best not to think about it. But doing your best and avoiding the truth. . . they're two different things. We can't tell you not to overdo it, though. The only way to actually pass these tests. . . is to overdo it. But it's important not to overburden you with excessive, and frankly, unrealistic expectations. I know you've heard this all before, but getting into college is not your whole life. That dream about the shadow is a sign that you're unconsciously resisting the notion of getting into college. I just think you need to relax a bit.”
“O-okay,” she nodded obediently. “But. . . but still. '.”
“Yeah. That's why you need to work at it. It isn't a bad thing to want to go to college. It's not like it's an impossible dream, either. But it just isn't healthy to get obsessed with it, you know? At this rate, you're just going to get overwhelmed by the pressure and be in no condition to actually sit there and take the test.”
“I. . . I think I understand,” Sawako said meekly.
'. . . The bud relaxed a little,’ Asukai thought. 'If she could just sprout a few more leaves. . . not that it would take care of all of her problems, but it would be a start.'
He was looking at her chest again.
He could see something there.
Nobody else could see it, including the girl herself.
After that, they spoke in more concrete terms about how they should go about handling her problem subjects.
“ – Thank you very much!” she yelled as she stood up twenty minutes later.
“Your effort is genuine. All you have to do is just stay calm, and keep moving forward.”
“Okay. And thanks, Sensei,” she started. “I feel much better now. Say, did you ever have some sort of training? Like as a therapist or counselor?”
“Not really.”
“Maybe you should consider a new career. You’re really smart and good looking too.” Asukai gave her an awkward smile, and she slapped her hand over her mouth. “Ah! Sorry! I didn’t mean to be rude. . . !”
“I'll think about,” he chuckled. “They do say you can’t make a living painting.”
As she was about to leave, Sawako suddenly turned back, remembering something. “Oh, right! Sensei, have you heard the phrase ‘Sometimes it snows in April'?”
“W-what?” Asukai said, shocked.
“That's the only thing I remember from my dream. Oh, but it's probably not important. Good-bye!” she said brightly as she exited -- her gloomy exterior having finally been shed.
“Sometimes. . . it snows in April?”
For some reason, those words made something stir inside Asukai.
***
When Asukai Jin thought about his strange ability to see the flaws in people's hearts, he always remembered Saint-Exupery's The Little Prince. He had read it when he was three or four years old, but he remembered one line from it that went something like, “The reason this child was beautiful was because he had a rose within his heart.”
He felt as if that image had been carved into his psyche and left a lasting impression on him.
His eyes could see a single plant growing from every person's chest. The variety of plant in his vision varied, and they came in all sorts of shapes and sizes, but the problem was not the variety of plant, but with the very fact that in every vision, there was some part missing.
Perhaps there was no flower. Or no leaves. No stem. Or, like this girl, no roots. He had never once seen a person that carried a complete plant within their chest.
There was always a flaw.
So, his 'advice’ was simply to say whatever was needed to compensate for that flaw. If there were no roots, all he had to do was tell them to have more confidence. Everyone would be satisfied by that, and recover their good cheer.
His job at the cram school finished, he walked back to his apartment along a bustling shopping street. He couldn’t help but notice the flaws on everyone's chests.
It annoyed him, occasionally.
Human effort was entirely devoted to making up for this flaw. He knew this. But he also knew that what they lacked was never in them to begin with, and it was something that could never be obtained.
He had looked at his own chest before, but he could find nothing there. Presumably, he was lacking something also, and it was that missing item that was making him so unhappy. Unfortunately, there was no way for him to replace it either.
“. . . So that's why I said. . .”
“. . . What the. . . ?”
“. . . Hahaha! That's so dumb. . .”
Drunks, young people, old people, males, females. . . they all passed him by. None of them ever thought that they were missing flowers or roots.
(They're happier not knowing. . . )
Since he was very young, he had always felt isolated.
Perhaps he always would.
“-- Oh, look! Snow!”
“Wow! It's so pretty!”
Everyone around him was cheering at the sky, so Asukai felt obligated to look up as well.
Something white was falling out of the night sky.
(I do like snow. . . )
Snow turned everything white. It was one of his favorite things. Perhaps because flowers never bloomed beneath it. He could go about his business without thinking about anything else. . . or so he felt.
But when he looked happily up at the sky, his expression suddenly froze.
There was a girl standing in the fifth story window of a nearby building.
Her feet were on the window ledge, her body all the way outside, getting ready to jump.
As he stared up at her, their eyes met.
She smiled slightly with her eyes. Then…
“No. . . !”Asukai tried to shout, but she flung her body outward into the open air.
Reflexively, Asukai ran towards her.
But his feet went out from under him, and he fell awkwardly.
He hurriedly scrambled back to his feet, but as he looked up again, he saw something impossible.
“Heh heh heh.”
Th
e girl was floating in mid-air, laughing.
But there was something unique about her smile. Her mouth was closed in a straight line, and her eyes alone smiled, sweet and enchanting.
She was frozen in mid-air, about to fall, but not moving at all.
“Hunh. . . ?” he wondered.
“Hey, wake up! You're in the way,” snarled a group of drunks, brushing past him.
“D-do you see that?” Asukai asked, pointing at the girl.
None of them paid much attention. “What are you talking about?”
“You've had too much to drink!”
They were looking where he was pointing, but none of them could see her.
(W-what on earth. . . ?)
He stood up, looking up at her, stunned.
Now that he looked carefully, he could tell that she was actually falling, just very very slowly. Her tangled hair was moving, swaying.
“Heheheh.”
Those laughing eyes drank in the light like holes in the sky.
“It isn't much fun to see things nobody else can, is it, Asukai-sensei?” he heard her whisper in his ear.
“How. . . ?”
“I know exactly how you feel. I used to be the same.”
Asukai stumbled over, until he was directly below the falling girl.
“Th-then you. . .”
“Just like your extra sensory perception, I can see people's deaths.”
Her expression never changed -- that tightly closed mouth never moved. It was as if time around her moved at a snail's pace.
“Deaths?”
“To be more accurate, I can see the energy field generated by all living things just before they burn themselves out.” She laughed again. “I represent a possibility in which people are able to manipulate death. My purpose is to recreate the world in that fashion, which makes me an enemy of the current world. Even in spring, I bring cold. I make it snow in April.”
“Er. . .”
“Will you help me with my work, Asukai-sensei?”
“What. . . ? What are you talking about? Who are you?!” he shouted.
The people around him looked at him suspiciously. To them, he was shouting at empty space. They must have thought him plastered beyond his limit or tripped out on drugs.
In the air above him, the girl replied, “My enemies call me the Imaginator.”
And she vanished.
“W-wait!” he cried, reaching out towards her, but his fingers only brushed empty air.
He was amazed, but then his shoulders slumped in disappointment. He thought to himself that he had finally gone completely insane. Seeing things. It was obvious -- and then he glanced at his feet, and almost shouted.
The falling snow had piled up all around, except at his feet, where a small patch of pavement was left exposed.
It was like a shadow puppet in the shape of a girl falling from the sky.
***
When Asukai got back to his apartment, a girl poked her head out of the window of the room next door as if she'd been waiting for him.
“-- There you are! Welcome back!” She said brightly. She was Kinukawa Kotoe, the apartment owner's daughter, and also his cousin. Kotoe had talked her parents into letting her use one of the empty rooms as a study. Her own house was about a minute's walk away.
“Wh-what is it?” he said blankly, still a little out of it.
“Jin-niisan, did you eat yet? I just made some stew; thought you might like some.”
“Um, yeah. . . thanks.”
“Cool! I'll bring it over in a minute!” She ducked back into the room.
Kotoe was always like this. Asukai's father had died two years before, and he was renting a room in his uncle's apartment building. But that was the extent of their involvement. Asukai had a scholarship covering his university's tuition, but his art supplies, living expenses and rent all had to be covered by the money he made from his meager cram school salary. About the only liberty he had taken was to rent the room without a guarantor, but Kotoe had taken it upon herself to look after him.
Seeing Kotoe up and in her usual cheerful mood actually helped Asukai to calm his nerves a little.
(Whether that was an illusion or not, it's not like I've never seen anything that outright bizarre before. . . )
If he kept his cool, he could deal with this, just like he had all along.
He entered his apartment, splashed his face a few times with water from his bathroom sink, and turned to find Kotoe coming in with a big pot in her hands.
“Okay! Today's dinner is especially good, if I do say so myself”
She set the table briskly, as if this were her own room, and placed a steaming hot bowl in front of a slightly embarrassed Asukai.
“It does look good. Thanks.”
“Jin-niisan, you look kinda tired. Everything okay?”
“Yeah. . . it's just a busy time of year. My students are all feeling it, and I catch it from them.”
“That sucks.”
“It's not like you won't be going through the same thing next year yourself.”
Kotoe was a second year student at a local prefectural school called Shinyo Academy.
“Yeah, well. . . I dunno if I'm goin' to college. . .”
She glanced up at him.
“Or maybe. . . I just could go to your cram school and you could teach me. . .”
“When did you decide to go to art school? I teach art history and design, you know.”
“But you also do counseling? I could use some of that. . .”
“We can do that here anytime for free. No reason to sign up where I work.”
“Really?” Kotoe beamed.
“But the kids I counsel are all very serious people. Not so sure about you. . .” he teased, winking.
“That's so mean! Like you think I'm some sort of airhead!” she said, puffing out her cheeks and pouting. But she couldn't keep it up, and soon they were both laughing.
Kotoe let out a little sigh. “I guess I do come across like that. . .”
“And thank god you do. You're better off not needing my help,” Asukai said sincerely, lowering his spoon.
“Mm?”
“I think people need to work their way through their own problems. And with the tests. . . I'm a cram school teacher so there's a lot I can't say. I can't tell them they don't need to go to college. . . even if they really shouldn't be trying. . .”
He glanced over at Kotoe's chest.
She had no 'flower.'
What she did have was a bountiful amount of leaves, which were the domain of kindness and warmth, and her stem and roots were equally secure. But there was no flower to be found.
Kotoe was a good girl.
She wasn't bad looking. Her parents owned several apartment buildings, and were obviously rich. There was no reason at all for her to be unhappy.
But deep in her heart, she wondered, 'Why have I never come across anything definitively radiant?’ Sometimes she would see a really ordinary, average person who was completely passionate about some insignificant thing. This would devastate her -- she would be terribly jealous of them.
But there was nothing she could do about it.
She 'lacked’ that passion, and she would never have it.
“Jin-niisan, you just need to chill.” Never in her wildest dreams able to guess what he was looking at, Kotoe tried using her usual hip slang to cheer him up. “You spend way too much time stressing over other people. You've gotta at least try to make things a little easier on yourself, you know.” She nodded, oddly forceful.
“Th-thanks. But now I don't know which of us is getting counseled,” Asukai grinned.
“Nothing is futile! There is always a path. . . even if it's towards something that doesn't exist yet,” she proclaimed.
“I’m. . . yeah, I guess,” Asukai nodded, but with no conviction. “I wish I could think that. . .”
“But that path may be a trifle. ..cruel. . . it might even go against all that this world deems just,
” her voice was so certain; it seemed almost scornful.
“. . Huh?” Asukai looked up. That didn't sound like something Kotoe would say.
He froze.
The vision at her chest had vanished.
It had been there just a moment before, but now he could see nothing.
And her expression -- her mouth was closed in a straight line, her eyes alone sparkling, laughing --
“Wh-who are you?!” Asukai cried out, leaping to his feet.
“Relax. I am only borrowing her body . . . temporarily,” the girl with Kotoe's face whispered.
“Wh-what?!”
“This girl's psyche is not capable of becoming my vessel,” she said quietly. “I must leave her in a moment.”
“You weren't a delusion. . . you're a ghost?”
“No. . . not a ghost,” she said, standing to face him. “To be completely accurate, I am a 'hypothetical possibility given substance.’ But for your feeble mind, consider me 'a glimpse of the future.”'
She reached towards Asukai's forehead.
She stroked it gently with both hands.
“Asukai-sensei, don't you feel it's time you. . . did something?”
“About what?”
“The flaws found in human hearts.”
Her soft, gentle fingertips massaged Asukai's face, firmly.
He moaned. The sensation was sweet and hard to resist.
“What do you think your flaw is, Asukai-sensei?”
“. . . . . . . .?!”
“You lack a 'calling.'“ Her voice was peaceful, yet firm.
“. . . Eh?”
“Let me show you a little glimpse of the future.”
She pulled his face towards hers, arched her back, and placed her thin lips upon his.
Instantly, something opened in Asukai's head.
A torrent of images cascaded past him.
“Ah. . . aaauuughhhhhh!” he screamed, forcing her away.
She never flinched, simply staggered once and then stared back at him again.
“Hahh. . . hahh. . .” Asukai gasped for breath. “Wh-what was that. . . that spectacle?”
“Your 'calling,' Asukai-sensei.”
“L-like hell! I would never do something like that!”