It rained the entire day today. Unlike the typical summer showers, the downpour lasted for nearly eight hours straight. Only as dusk approached did it finally cease. The rain brought a heavy gloom, and even after it stopped, the twilight was still dark and oppressive, as if the entire day had been swallowed by a black hole. From his sealed window, Kitagawa Ryo watched as even the nearby tree shadows blurred into obscurity, the silence broken only by the occasional sound of water droplets slipping down.
He suddenly recalled how Sakura Airi used to be frightened by curtains fluttering in the wind during such nights. But from this angle, it wasn't the curtains that were frightening—it was the trees. Their branches and leaves, broken and battered by the rain, now resembled rigid skeletons, standing upright like twisted claws.
Two hours passed. The thick clouds finally parted enough to reveal the moon. Kitagawa opened his window, letting the moonlight flow in.
Along with the moonlight came a gentle knock.
It was Sakayanagi Arisu.
Even for good kids, eight o'clock was too early to sleep. And since both of them had already taken long naps during the day, they were wide awake by evening.
"I always imagined this scene in books," Kitagawa said, handing Arisu a cup of warm milk. Their rooms didn't allow hot water bottles or dangerous items, so tea or coffee was out of the question. Cold drinks were off-limits too. Milk or warm water was all they had.
"You mean sleeping during the rain?" Arisu asked, taking the cup but not drinking it.
Her rehabilitation had been canceled due to the weather. She had come intending to talk, only to be told by Kitagawa that it was the perfect time for sleeping—and he hadn't even opened the door.
"Yeah. I used to imagine sleeping straight through a rainy afternoon, waking up in the dark not knowing what time it was. No lights on, just lying in bed listening to the rain and letting your mind wander. It sounded so nice."
Kitagawa added:
"I heard it from another elementary school kid when I was hospitalized before. He had bone cancer. His first words on the first night were, 'At least I don't have to go to school now!'"
"So being able to sleep without worry is a kind of happiness."
"Though the price is... I can't sleep now."
He scratched his head. Kitagawa's room was much simpler than Arisu's. No big bookshelf, no grand desk. Since he moved in, Arisu hadn't seen a single visitor come to see him.
Even though Arisu's father had been visiting less frequently due to work, he had still come three times in the past week.
"Sometimes, I do feel a little sorry for him,"
Yesterday, when her father came, Sakayanagi Arisu couldn't help but bring up Kitagawa Ryo, and her father nodded with a complicated expression.
"Why?"
"Because if he weren't sick, his future would be so much brighter."
"No family would name a child destined to die young as heir. He's receiving the best treatment now, likely out of his parents' guilt for abandoning him. But to truly raise him as their own? That's unrealistic."
"It sounds cruel, but nobody puts all their money on a stock they know will crash."
Arisu couldn't fully grasp the implications, but she hated stories without happy endings. She had gripped her father's large hand tightly.
In return, he gently wrapped her tiny hand within his.
A father's love for his daughter. A mother's love passed on. A husband's love for his wife.
Wrapped in three kinds of love, Sakayanagi Arisu looked toward the room across the wall. Compared to her, Kitagawa Ryo had never received any parental affection.
And yet, what embarrassed her was the tiny flicker of superiority she felt.
She had heard of children showing off their parents' love—a new dress, new sneakers, a family trip.
It should have been normal. But this time, Arisu felt ashamed. She didn't think this was something to feel victorious about.
Expressing love openly to family was a rare and precious skill—one most elite children her age had never learned. Arisu doubted they ever would.
Her father had taught her to love. But aside from him, she hadn't found anyone else worth loving yet.
When seven-year-old Arisu had seriously said the word "love," her father had broken into a cold sweat. Still, he solemnly told her:
"Love is difficult. It requires opening your heart and soul. It's dangerous."
"Other people may be your hell—with armor made of scars, blades forged from defensive glares, mazes built of words, and traps hidden behind smiles. But beneath all that, lonely hearts still tremble, still long to connect."
Despite his relatively young age and high status as chairman of the school, he had never considered remarriage after Arisu's mother passed.
Last night, Arisu had a vivid dream she couldn't remember upon waking.
Tonight, neither child chose Gomoku or chess. Arisu claimed she would only play again after more practice.
So they played cards.
"Off with your head!"
Kitagawa slammed down the Queen of Hearts—and with that, won his third straight game.
But Arisu wasn't bothered. After all, it was a game of luck. She began gathering the scattered cards and clumsily shuffled them.
For two seven-year-olds, the cards were simply too big. And Kitagawa couldn't use his right hand.
So Arisu always did the shuffling. She sorted the cards into categories like a battlefield strategist. Kitagawa could easily guess which stack held pairs and which held singles.
Thanks to his photographic memory, Kitagawa didn't need to organize his hand—he could remember all the cards at a glance.
Still, Arisu eventually noticed this tactical flaw. She changed her sorting strategy and finally won a round.
"Off with your head!"
Coincidentally or not, she also ended with the Queen of Hearts.
They had been quoting the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland.
A temperamental queen who shouted for beheadings over the slightest offense. Yet in the end, she never actually succeeded in executing anyone. Even the Cheshire Cat, once brought to the block, had vanished.
"Cats really are strange creatures," Kitagawa mused.
"Especially the ones with long claws and sharp teeth," Arisu added. "If a cat like that smiled at you, it'd be like a horror movie."
"Maybe fairy tales need a filter," Kitagawa said.
"They never had one to begin with," Arisu replied, twirling the Queen of Hearts. "Judith, the inspiration for the Queen, was a heroine. But in the story, she became a mad ruler who only beheaded people. And in Disney, she's just a big-headed villain."
"And they added the White Queen to make a contrast—a character that didn't even exist in the original."
She shrugged.
"At least it gave rise to interesting dark fairy tales."
"Stop, stop, stop!" Kitagawa snatched the Queen from her hand. "No dark fairy tales for me."
"Are you scared of them, Ryo?" Arisu's eyes gleamed with mischief.
"Of course not."
"Then let's watch a horror movie."
Even the moonlight outside seemed to flicker. Kitagawa hesitated, but agreed. They returned to Arisu's room and opened her laptop.
It was supposed to be used for remote lessons. But tonight, it became a movie player.
After picking a suitable film, Arisu turned off the lights.
"You know, you're the one with a heart condition. The nurses wouldn't allow this."
"My heart isn't that fragile," Arisu said. "Might as well train it."
"Who trains by watching horror?"
Kitagawa handed her one earbud. The laptop had only one audio jack.
"If it gets scary, just pull it out."
He even lowered the volume in advance.
They sat close on the couch, knees hugged, lit only by the screen's glow.
The result?
"That's so dumb. You still need logic, even in horror."
"Why do detectives always go alone?"
"Of course the Black guy dies first."
"Crosses don't work. Western gods can't stop Eastern ghosts."
"Oops, special effects fail there."
Arisu turned to watch him rant. Not even a hint of fear.
Neither of them screamed once. Kitagawa was too busy commenting, and Arisu was too entertained to be scared.
When it ended, he let out a relieved sigh:
"Not bad."
Then he glanced at her smugly.
"Ready to sleep?"
"Can you even sleep after that?"
Realizing she'd been tricked, Sakayanagi Arisu replied grumpily:
"Off with your head..."
"Looks like Arisu weren't scared either. Goodnight then."
It was late, and sleepiness had crept in. Kitagawa waved before leaving. Just before stepping out, he whistled:
"If there's only a head, you can't cut it off."
Arisu knew what he meant—the Cheshire Cat had vanished, leaving only a head behind. Without a body, it was impossible to behead.
...
Once Kitagawa's footsteps faded, Arisu snapped back to reality.
Her heart was pounding. But it had nothing to do with the horror movie.
She slipped the other earbud into her ear. It still held a trace of warmth.
Then she opened her laptop and pulled up the browser history.
[Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, or ALS.]
[A disease that begins with weakness in the fingers, progresses to muscle atrophy in the limbs and trunk, and eventually affects breathing and swallowing.]
She scrolled down. It took more courage than playing any horror film.
In the video, a man sat in a wheelchair, fingers like talons, with a twisted smile. Tubes fed into his nose. A nurse wiped saliva from his slack mouth.
His body had become a husk. Only his eyes moved, proof he was still alive.
Arisu closed her eyes.
Her teeth nearly biting her lower lip until it bled.
Reality was never a fairy tale.
Every tragedy had a way to become worse.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
To Read Advanced Chapters, and support this novel, please join me on [email protected]/geats2000