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Kara no Kyoukai (Light Novel) - Volume 1, Lingering Pain - II
Volume 1, Lingering Pain - II
This chapter is updated by NovelFree.ml
After my guest leaves as suddenly and unexpectedly as I found her, I try to push it out of my mind. She was just a normal girl I found in the street and, in a spark of altruism, decided to help. She had some kind of pain, though, that much I can be sure, but the how eludes me at the moment. Still, no need for me to think on it more than that. She’s gone, and there’s nothing I can do about it. More importantly, I’m going to be late for work if I don’t hurry. As soon as I finish up my morning rituals, I’m out the door instantly.
The place I work in isn’t exactly what you’d call a “company”, not in any official capacity anyway. My employer is an eccentric sort of woman, the kind of woman who buys an abandoned building only halfway finished and makes it her office; a woman in her late twenties, a collector of old, obscure trinkets, purveyor of ambiguous counsel, and all around weirdo, Miss Tōko Aozaki.
Ostensibly, she’s a maker of dolls and puppets, but she seems to dabble in all manner of engineering and architectural work as well. These are, of course, her hobbies. I may have complaints about how she runs the place, but she’s managed to keep this little enterprise of hers running before I was there so she must be doing something right. Besides, I’m not about to chal- lenge the wisdom of my one and only source of income, especially when I don’t have a degree in a time when actual job pickings are slim. In fact, I should consider myself lucky to find any kind of work at all.
The building, which in the middle of my musings I have managed to reach, is a four story structure, with the office at the top. Nestled between the industrial district and the housing projects, it projects a feeling of emp- tiness and solitude, like it doesn’t belong. The longer you stare at it, the longer you gain this feeling of imposition, and going inside would be the last thing on one’s mind. The building lacks modern 21st century luxuries such as elevators, so I start to climb the staircase.
As I enter the room, one person alone sits atop Miss Tōko’s desk, a girl that looks decidedly out of place among the stacks of discarded papers and blueprints scattered all across the room. The girl in a fish-patternedindigo blue kimono turns her head at my entrance, looking at me with listless eyes, and I address her.
“Wait a minute. Shiki? What are you doing in this miserable dump?” “Um, Kokutō? The owner of the place is right behind me, pal,” she says
in a tone of warning, while pointing behind her with her thumb.
Shiki moves aside to reveal Miss Tōko seated across the desk, a lighted cigarette positioned in her mouth, and sharp eyes burrowing into me with pointed glares. She wears the same simple pattern of white blouse and black pants, a combination she has upheld so religiously since the day I met her that you would think she’d wear the same thing at a funeral. She always seems obliged to wear at least one orange-colored accessory though, and today it is a single orange earring.
“Yeah, I’d say goodbye to your paycheck if I were you,” Shiki adds. I gulp. “Hmph. The Lord Tōko Almighty forgives you for your transgression since you arrived here earlier than I expected. Seriously, Kokutō. I told you there wouldn’t be anything for you to do for a while so it’s okay to show yourself
around noon, and yet here you are.”
“Miss Tōko, you know I’m not that kind of person.” I can feel my wallet practically coaching me the words in my head. It’s gets a bit lonely in there with only the stored value train ticket and phone card keeping each other company. “So, why is Shiki in this miserable dump?”
“Called her in. Thought there was a little business matter she could help me with.”
For her part, Shiki seemed uninterested and withdrawn. She probably went out last night again, since she’s rubbing one of her eyes. It’s barely been a month since she recovered from her coma. We still find it hard to talk to each other, but we’re taking it slow for now. Since she doesn’t seem to be interested in talking to me right now, I sit myself down on my desk. With no real work to finish, there’s nothing to do but chat.
“Did you happen to see the news this morning, Miss Tōko?”
“You’re talking about the news on Broad Bridge, right? I keep saying it, but Japan doesn’t need a bridge that big, goddamit.”
What Miss Tōko is talking about is none other than the big ten kilometer bridge construction project scheduled to finish next year. This part of town is about a twenty minute drive away from the city port, a short distance. The port is situated in a crescent shaped coastline that forms a bay, and the bridge is planned to cross the gap between the extreme upper and lower parts of that crescent coastline in one straight highway, supposedly to divert traffic from the coast. The city’s development council made a joint venture with some big construction company to “answer the complaints of the community.” And of course, considering the history of the local government, a public works project that big has to have some taxpayer’s money mysteriously disappearing into people’s pockets. It’s a typical story: the government makes public development projects to answer some new “problem” the citizens have, which doesn’t exist except in their heads, and
everyone gets money. Worse, it’s going to have its own aquarium, a muse- um, and a gigantic parking lot for God knows what reason; you don’t know if the place is a bridge or some weird amusement park. The locals had been calling it the Bay Bridge since it started, but going from what Miss Tōko said, I suppose it’s been officially christened as the Broad Bridge. It goes without saying that Miss Tōko and I do not hold this project in high esteem.
“Well, yeah, you say that, but I thought you already had an exhibit space there?” I comment wryly.
“That was just a complementary ‘thank you’ from the company. If it were up to me, I’d sell it, but how do you think it would look for Asagami Construction if I, the designer, refused the offer? But it’s a stupid location, and it won’t make me a lick of cash.”
Uh oh. She’s talking about deficit again. This has to be going somewhere I don’t like. I have to find out about this now or else she’s never going to give me the money.
“Um, Miss Tōko? About the cash. Pardon me for being so blunt with it but, you had promised me my salary today and—“
“Oh, yeah,” she stretches the word out in a long drawl. “That. Unfortu- nately, I’m going to have to postpone your pay for a month.” She spits it out like an unwanted curse, as if I was the one at fault for asking in the first place.
“But you had a million or some yen wired to your account yesterday! How could it all be gone?”
“I spent it, how else?” Miss Tōko rebuts nonchalantly, sitting in her chair and swiveling it from side to side making squeaking noises and adopting the general annoying air of feigned ignorance one receives from self-important people. Shiki and I just affix her with frustrated stares.
“But what on Earth could you spend that much money on?” I cry in outrage.
“Oh, nothing, just a silly little thing. A Victorian era Ouija board to be precise. I don’t know if it works or not, but the hundred year value it has makes it fetch a high price. And if it’s a numina container, then so much the better. It’ll be a nice addition to my collection.”
I can’t believe how she’s taking all of this in stride. It would have been a lot more convenient if she was just some two-bit illusionist with some hand tricks, but her actual sideline is being a mage; like, the real deal. Which is why she can talk all about esoteric topics such as “numina” or whatnot while keeping a totally straight face. And yet she can’t even use her magic to make up some convenient excuse for my lack of pay.
“Come on, Kokutō, even you couldn’t have resisted the bargain price.
Don’t be so mad. At least now our wallets finally have something in com- mon.”
Having been shown by her what miracles mages are capable of doing, I was willing to be tolerant in how she handled things, but this was way too much. “So that’s it, then? No pay for me this month?”
“Yep. All employees are to find other means of obtaining funding.”
I stand up, and make my way towards the door. “Then, you’ll excuse me for leaving early, since I’m gonna have to beg, borrow, or steal money to get by this month?”
“Early in, early out, huh? Just don’t get caught stealing or I’ll feel guilty.” Then, she switches to a serious tone, as if to indicate the gravity of what she was about to say. “By the way, Kokutō. I’ve got a favor to ask you.” Thinking it’s the business between her and Shiki, I try to listen as hard as I can.
“What, Miss Tōko?”
Then smiling, she says “Can you spare me some money? I’m pretty broke.”
I pinch my thumb and forefinger together in front of me and say, “This close to resignation.”
I close the door with resentment; cutting off Miss Tōko’s playful chuck- ling soon after.
After witnessing the amusing exchange between Tōko and Mikiya, Shiki at last speaks her mind.
“Tōko, you were saying before we were interrupted?”
“Ah, right. I didn’t really want to take a job like this, but money comes first. If only I were an alchemist, then I wouldn’t have to worry so much about living expenses. Damn Kokutō for not sharing some of that money I know he saves over,” Tōko says with indignation. She extinguishes her ciga- rette on the ashtray. Mikiya is probably thinking something similar himself, Shiki thinks.
“Well, about that incident last night—“ Tōko starts saying.
“I don’t need to hear any more on that. I get it, for the most part.” “That so? Crime scene description only, and you can already read this
girl? Sharp one, aren’t we?” Tōko looks at Shiki with eyes laden with mean- ing. Tōko has only described the details of the crime scene to Shiki, and yet Shiki understands that the girl’s story is writ large all over that vivid scene: proof, if anything, of her natural intuition when it comes to these matters. Tōko knew she’d understand; they come from the same dirty side of the world, after all.
“Our benefactor for this job has an idea who the target is. If you encoun- ter her, orders are to try and see if she goes along quietly. But if she shows any willingness to fight back, any at all, then oblige her. ‘Least you’ll see if those blade skills of yours have rusted some.”
“I see.” Shiki’s only answer. To her, the job was simple. Hunt her down, and kill her. “What do we do about the body?”
“If you kill her, then the client has the means to make this look like an accident. Don’t worry about the fallout on this one. She’s dead to the world, as far as our client is concerned. Got no moral qualms about killing dead people, right?” Tōko gives a little laugh. “So, you in on this? You ask me, it’s tailor made for you.”
“I don’t even need to answer that.” Shiki starts to walk towards the exit. “You’re eager to start. Are you spoiling for blood that much, Shiki?” She doesn’t answer.
“Hey, you forgot this.” Tōko tosses a folder at Shiki. “Some photos and the particulars on her profile. What the hell are you going to do without even knowing what she looks like?” Shiki doesn’t catch the folder, and it falls harmlessly to the floor.
“I don’t need a file on this one. You’ve told me where it started, and
that’s where we’re gonna start too. We’re all the same, us murderers: we attract each other. And when me and this girl meet, there’s definitely going to be some blood on the floor afterwards.”
And with a rustle of clothes, Shiki departs from the office, the coldness of her glare the last thing peeking in through the small gap of the closing door.
