Boogiepop Returns VS Imaginator Part 1 (14 page)

But before he could, the man's hand reached out to Shinjirou's chest.

“--------!”

A moment later, Shinjirou's body suddenly bent over of its own accord, and flung itself backwards.

There was another tremendous crash.

“Pathetic. . .” the man said, unmoved. He stood up, and brushed the dust off his clothes.

He came over to where Shinjirou lay unable to move, and got down on his knees. He peered into the boy's face.

“What was that sound?”

“Asukai-san, what happened?”

Several other faculty members had come running.

“He fell over. Looks like anemia of the brain. . .” Asukai replied, helping Anou Shinjirou up, and over to a comfortable sofa, where he laid him down flat.

“Is he okay? Should I call an ambulance?”

“Better ask the manager. If he lies down for a minute. . . he should be okay, I think. . .” Asukai answered, well aware that an ambulance pulling up to the cram school was hardly a desirable event.

“W-wait right there, I'll go ask,” and the other teachers ran off.

Once again the lobby fell silent, if only for a short while.

“. . . . . . . . .” Asukai Jin slowly rubbed Anou Shinjirou's chest. “I've no idea of the true nature of your suffering, Anou-kun. But I promise you, your wordless pain will be buried when the snow falls in April. . .  when the whiteness falls on all mankind,” he whispered kindly, yet firmly.

Behind him, floating in the air, a vision of a girl wavered.

***

When Shinjirou awoke, he was lying on a sofa at his cram school. His mother was sitting next to him, peering at his face with a worried expression. Apparently, someone had called her.

“Shin-chan, how do you feel?”

“. . . Umm. . . wh-where. . . ?”

“Cram school. You. . . you passed out,” his mother said.

He looked around him. Everything felt strange, like his eyes wouldn't quite focus.

“Cram school.. .” he got to his feet unsteadily. He stood there, looking puzzled.

“Should we go see a doctor?” his mother asked.

But he didn't appear to be seriously injured, so they simply headed straight home. They went for a checkup the next day, but the doctors found nothing amiss. For safe measure, they gave him a mild tranquilizer, and then just sent him home. The diagnosis was simply stress. He had been studying far too much.

“Thank goodness.”

“Yeah. . .”

“The test is pretty close, but you don't need to work too hard. The teachers all agree. . . you'll do fine.”

“Yeah. . .”

***

When they got home, Shinjirou did as the doctors had suggested and went to bed.

He awoke soon after, and stood up. He reached for his bag, untouched since he'd come home the day before, and emptied it out onto his bed. He planned to reorganize the contents by priority.

Text books, study guides, notes. . . and a letter he didn't remember getting.

“ . . . . . . . . . . . .”

As tempting as the letter was, he did not open it. He simply stood there, holding it in his fingers, looking off into nothing.

***

Two tall office buildings and a department store that housed a number of specialty shops had been piled on top of each other into one giant complex known as the Twin City. It was one of the many areas planned for during the redevelopment of the station area, and the only one completed yet.

On a daily basis, tens of thousands of people came here. Customers for the department store, businessmen with deals to be done -- they all flooded in and out of the building in a constant stream.

But once a month, on the third Wednesday, the department store would close for the day, and the place would be completely and utterly deserted. . . just a vast, empty space. The business hotel's rent was far too expensive, and it had hardly any tenants.

The roof of the department store was open to the eighth and ninth floors of the tenant buildings. This 'connection space' was also deserted that day. The department store was closed, but the elevators in the office buildings were operating, so the roof was still accessible. The game centers and
yakisoba
shops that catered to the passing businessmen were all closed, and nothing visited but the wind.

And still, this monthly void in the middle of the city was where the girl in the letter promised to meet Anou Shinjirou.

At four in the afternoon, the sun was already setting, painting the world red.

The elevator that on any other day stopped at nearly every floor took him directly to his destination.

“ . . . . . . . . . . . .”

There was a gust of wind as Shinjirou came onto the roof. It was always windy this high up, but today exceptionally so. One of the screens used to break the wind had come loose, and was flapping noisily, but there was nobody here to fix it.

“Um. . . hello?” Shinjirou looked around him, searching for signs of life. There was nobody there, no signs of anybody having been there.

The meeting spot was in the center of the rooftop, near some round, squarish, enigmatic sort of abstract sculptures. Shinjirou headed towards them.

Long shadows spread out like stripes across the floor. A girl was seated alone on one of the sculptures.

“You. . . you wrote the letter. . . ?”

“. . . . . . . . .” The girl nodded, silently. She wore a thick navy blue coat, and a thick wool hat. Her hair was bound in two braids, and she wore glasses.

He'd never seen her before.

“Um. . . so, what did that letter mean?” Shinjirou asked.

“ . . . .. .. . . . . .” She didn't answer. She just stared at the ground.

Shinjirou made no attempt to approach, stopping a good distance from her.

“I thought someone was making fun of me at first, but you're actually here. . .”

“ . . . . . . . . . . . .”

“But when did you put the letter in my bag? I don't remember leaving it lying around. . .”

“—What? “ The girl's face snapped up. For a moment, the setting sun glinted off her glasses. “What did you just say?” Her voice sounded more like a boy's.

“Huh?”

“
You found the letter in your bag? That’s why you came here?
”

“What about it?” Shinjirou stared at her blankly.

She suddenly yelled, “
Look out
” and dove towards Shinjirou, knocking him aside.

“Waaah -- !”

A moment later, something black and round cut through the air where Shinjirou had been standing.

The impact of its landing shook the roof, and then it stood up -- Spooky E.

The monstrous man had planned to crush Shinjirou on his dive. But he had failed.

“ . . . . . . . . . . . ?!”

Spooky E swung his fist towards the girl who had spotted his attack.

But his punch met only fabric -- the girl had tossed her coat, and was no longer there.

Instead, her hat and glasses spun in the air, falling to the floor of the roof.

Something like a thick black rope landed on top of them -- the braids that had emerged from under her hat. They were fake.

“What -- ?!” Spooky E yelled, stomping on the glasses and fake braids, glaring around him.

There was no sign of the girl -- it was questionable if she even was a girl.

“ . . . . . . . . . . . .” Shinjirou stayed on the ground, making no sound.

Spooky E tumed towards him. “How the hell did you escape from my control?”

“Er. . .”

“You said you found the letter in your bag. . . but I made you forget that letter. So how did you find it again?! You should've only come here because I ordered you to!”

“W-what?” Shinjirou had no idea what the man was shouting about. He'd never seen him before in his life.

Spooky E reached his hand towards Shinjirou. Something flashed in the air between them.

“-------- !” Spooky E yanked his hand back quickly. But it was too late; there was already a long, thin cut on his arm, deep enough to draw blood.

A microfilament wire.

It had moved at a frightening speed, and sliced open Spooky E's arm the same way a copy paper can sometimes slice your fingers. Worst of all, it had prevented him from getting close to Anou Shinjirou.

From somewhere around them came a whistle. Shinjirou had no taste for classical music, so he didn't know the tune, but it was “Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.”

“You're not nearly as tough as the Manticore,” a voice said. Just like the girl, it was an androgynous voice, impossible to tell if it was male or female.

“Wh-what are you?” Spooky E spun around, and found a black shadow standing on one of the sculptures, cloak flapping in the wind.

Its left hand was on its head, holding its pipe -- shaped hat as if it had just put it on.

“You should know who I am by now. After all, you are one of the Towa Organization's synthetic humans.” The cloaked figure brushed its fingers across its lips, leaving them covered in black lipstick. It was as if this figure was performing some sort of magic trick.

The figure let out a strange, asymmetrical expression.

“Y-you're Boogie. . . !” Spooky E started to scream, then suddenly flinched, leaping backwards. “Unnh!”

Something glinted in the air, following him.

A piece of paper blowing in the wind was neatly sliced in two.

Frantically, Spooky E rolled away, then forced himself upright, pulling a small gun from his pocket and firing at the cloaked figure.

The figure leapt away a moment before the gun was aimed. There was a crunch, and bits of the statue shattered as the bullet ricocheted offof it.

The cloaked figure slid nimbly from shadow to shadow, between the statues.

“Shit shit shit!” Spooky E yelled, firing into the darkness. There was a silencer on the end of the gun, and it made only a vacant, hollow whistle as it fired.

“My primary objective is the Imaginator's reemergence. I should not be bothering with the likes of you,” that creepy voice echoed from somewhere.

“But with one of your victims right in front of me, I can hardly ignore matters. I do apologize for the second class treatment, but I'm going to have to destroy you.”

“Grrrm!” Spooky E ground his teeth.

There was a click as the hammer struck an empty chamber. He tried to reload, but a wire came undulating through the air wound around the gun, and pulled it from his hand.

“-------- !”

“Are you ready?” the voice whispered, seemingly right in his ear.

“S -- screw this!” Spooky E turned his back and ran headlong in the opposite direction from where the cloaked figure had last been, in a mad attempt to flee the roof.

In front of him, Anou Shinjirou was still sprawled out on the ground.

Shinjirou lifted his head and yelped, “Uh oh. . . !” Just the sight of Spooky E running back towards him was enough for him to pull himself together. He scrambled to his feet, and tried to run. . .

But something grabbed his ankle from behind.

“Augghh!”

“You can't get away from me, boy!” Spooky E yanked Shinjirou towards him, but there was the shrill sound of something slicing through the air. . .

Spooky E ducked his head, a moment too late.

There was an unpleasant squishing sound.

Spooky E's right ear was torn clean off his head, spinning through the air.

“Naaaaaarrgghhh -- !!!”

But Spooky E did not waver. He spun Shinjirou's body, and flung him right towards the flapping windbreaker, where a gaping hole opened onto the fifty meter drop.

“Waaaugggh? ! “ Shinjirou screamed.

As he flew, he thought over and over, 'This is a dream! This is a dream!'

He refused to believe his life would end like this.

A newspaper headline fluttered across his mind's eye.

'Junior High Student Buckles Under Exam Pressure, Commits Suicide.'

Everyone would be talking about him, saying stuff like, “He was always worried,” and, “He couldn't handle the stress.”

And they'd all be wrong.

The idea that he died from getting mixed up in a fight between two mysterious inhuman creatures was just beyond imagining. None of them would ever guess.