Gyoza Senbei

Gyoza Senbei

Cxi tie estas la loko ekster la observado de dioj
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【Self-translated work - Simplified Chinese version】Ghosts【Tsujiura Mizuki】

Work Introduction:#

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This article is a novel work linked with YOASOBI's song "Um no Manimani".

Written by Naoki Prize-winning author Mizuki Tsujimura.

It tells the story of a girl who runs away from home and her fantastical encounter with a girl in white, sharing a night together (in a healthy sense).

Official purchase link. If you like it, please support the official version.
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Main Text:#

      The electric train seems to stitch together the gaps of the night.

      I stared blankly as the daylight vanished in the fleeting scenery outside the train window.

      I wasn't reading, nor looking at my tablet, not even listening to music.

      For the first time, I experienced the feeling of just watching the scenery for such a long time. Leaving the familiar city, the view outside the window gradually transformed into unfamiliar places.

      The afternoon sunlight streaming through the window slowly turned orange, then gradually disappeared, as if it were being absorbed into the world of night. I gazed regretfully at the last beam of sunlight.

      I fear this might be the last time I see the daylight.

      I will never return to this bright world. Perhaps I will never go back to that familiar city again.

      The yellow light from the window spilled into the train, gently tearing apart the dense blackness of the night. I imagined myself never welcoming the morning light again. I felt lonely, yet immensely calm and at ease. I no longer have to return to the morning world, my daily life, that music room in junior high where I had no place to belong.

      After night fell, the silhouettes of passengers in the train became sparse, and I bit my lip. I had already made the decision to put it into practice. I thought for a long time, and finally boarded the train today. I will never go back. The thought of having to put an end to everything today, and that I still have to go to school tomorrow, made it hard for me to imagine going to school tomorrow.

      The train arrived at a certain station.

      This is a station where I had never gotten off before, a station whose name I heard for the first time. No one got off, and no one boarded. The light from the evenly spaced lamps on the desolate platform was beautiful. The night air was very clear, and compared to the night spent in my own city yesterday, the color of the air was completely different.

      The unmanned train let out a whistle as it departed. Hearing this sound, I inhaled the uniquely high transparency of the air transitioning from summer to autumn, feeling a tightness in my chest.

      The train departed. In the carriage, apart from me, there was only a man in a salaryman-style suit sitting a bit further away and an old lady with a shopping cart beside her. These two had been traveling with me for several stops, but they seemed to have completely ignored me. I felt embarrassed for thinking about such things, and I straightened my face. A junior high student sitting alone on a train at this time would surely raise some concerns, right? The driver should come over and notice, right? I had clearly decided never to go back, yet I found myself thinking about those things again and again just now.

      I spent all my change today to buy a ticket worth all my possessions.

      I only bought a one-way ticket. I bought the longest distance ticket I could afford and boarded the train. When I left home, I turned off my phone. Now, my family must be in chaos. They might have already contacted my teachers and school. I imagined telling myself. I have no way back.

      The train headed towards a distant place with no acquaintances, a place I had never been to. Unknowingly, the salaryman and the old lady disappeared, leaving only me as the passenger.

      At this moment, the scenery suddenly vanished from the opposite window.

      The buildings and lights that had just flashed by disappeared without a trace, only to reappear a few seconds later outside the window. Normally, I might not have any thoughts about it. But I realized. That might be the sea. The train had left the city where I was born and raised, arriving at the coastal area of the neighboring county.

      Speaking of which, I had never seen the sea at night.

      I just happened to have this thought. The ticket I bought with all my possessions had not yet taken me to the place where I ultimately intended to get off. However, in a moment of impulse, I got off the train.

      This is a small station with only one staff member.

      As soon as I got off, a whiff of sea air brushed past my nose. The moist and warm wind gently caressed my cheeks. This is a desolate city, with only a few streetlights around, and only the station's light brightly shining towards the sky.

      Indeed, no one noticed me, dressed in a uniform that shouldn't appear here. I lowered my head and passed through the ticket gate. I only focused on my feet, walking on the old tiled road. With my backpack, I headed towards the sea I had just seen from the train window.

      Early September, the season transitioning from summer to autumn, might no longer be suitable for swimming in the sea. Cars on the road repeatedly passed by me, and apart from that, no one brushed past me. Under the blowing sea breeze, the privately owned shops and diners hung rusted signs, and most of the shops had already closed their roller shutters.

      Just walking in the night of an unfamiliar city. Only the bright moon beside me chased after me, always following my side.

      After a while, I heard the sound of the waves.

      The sound of crashing waves seemed to guide my steps, and I finally arrived at a road where I could see the sea. On the left side of the road were a row of shops and buildings, and directly behind them was the beach and embankment.

      I pondered whether I could see the sea from a closer distance, continued forward, and then discovered a wide open space without any buildings. This place, paved with white concrete like a square, had barricade stones arranged at equal intervals facing the sea, which might have been a parking lot during the peak swimming season. On both sides were buildings with the words "Sea House" written on them, but none had their lights on, and there was no sign of life. This was not because the season had passed, but perhaps because they had already closed down and were no longer in business.

      I heard the sound of crashing waves, then felt someone calling out to me. The sea smell and the scent of the beach that I had sensed since stepping out of the station became even more intense after hearing the sound of the waves. I looked down, and even in the dim light, I could vaguely see the shapes of the waves surging and retreating. Under the sparse streetlights nearby, the surface of the sea shimmered like fish scales.

      I gripped the straps of my backpack tightly, staring at the sea for a while. I felt that since the moment I boarded the train today, my mind had become incredibly clear, yet at the same time, a sense of unreality, as if I were in a dream, lingered in my heart.

      I suddenly felt that I might directly enter the sea like this.

      It might be very painful, but it would be the same no matter how I did it. Today, I managed to come this far to reach the seaside, perhaps for this purpose.

      As I thought, I turned my head to the side and suddenly realized.

      In a corner of the square, there was a place adorned with bouquets, right next to a utility pole. In the area where the sea and beach could be clearly seen, there was a bouquet covered with a plastic bag. It was made up of large cosmos and baby’s breath. It seemed to have been placed there not long ago, with a few flowers already wilted, and beside it were a milk tea can and a stuffed toy. There was also a firework packaging bag that looked like a remnant of summer.

      I felt that someone might have died here. Was it due to a traffic accident or a drowning accident? Could it be—suicide—

      Just as I was lost in thought.

      “Hey, are you alone?”

      A voice suddenly came from beside me.

      I gasped in surprise and turned to look.

      A girl stood there. She looked about my age, wearing a white dress. Her gaze seemed a bit lazy, perhaps due to her thick eyelids and the droop of her outer eye corners. Her long hair draped over her bare arms.

      I didn't know when she had come or how long she had been there.

      She walked towards me, her steps almost silent, until she stood in front of me.

      “Alone?”

      “Yes, alone...”

      I was startled and nodded. She stared at my face, seemingly lost in thought, then nodded and said, “I see.” Her long black hair swayed as she did.

      “What are you doing in a place like this?”

      “Um...”

      She hardly blinked, just stared at me intently. I felt overwhelmed by her gaze.

      “I came to see the sea.”

      I didn't know how to respond, and suddenly blurted that out. The girl stared at me for a long time without any courtesy, then mumbled, “Oh.”

      I felt that this girl was dressed very lightly. In this period when summer was about to end, she wore a sleeveless dress. She must be from around here, but even though it was a seaside town, there was not a trace of sunburn on her, and her bare arms glowed pale under the moonlight.

      “What are you doing at this hour...”

      When I left the station, the last time I saw the clock, the hands had passed nine o'clock at night. It felt like she was interrogating me, so I asked back, but she silently shook her head.

      She started with “Ah, me...”

      “I had a fight with my mom, and I came to eliminate the subsequent evidence.”

      “Huh?”

      “My room is a mess, so my mom got mad today. She told me not to sleep until I cleaned it up. I cleaned a little by myself, and then found this.”

      She pulled something out from behind her. I hadn't noticed when she first greeted me, but she was holding a huge flat bag. The bag had the words “Fireworks Set” written in large letters.

      “I bought it two years ago, but forgot to set it off. Although it's something from a long time ago, it contains gunpowder, so it wouldn't be good to just throw it away, right? If my mom saw it, she would probably get even angrier, so I felt I had to dispose of it. So, I ran away from home.”

      “Oh...”

      I didn't know how to respond, instinctively distancing myself from her. At one end of the square, there was clearly the beach, yet there were no guardrails. I thought it was dangerous and suddenly glanced at the place where the bouquets were placed earlier. From here, it was blocked by the utility pole, making it hard to see clearly.

      However, I had a strange feeling.

      I felt that the fireworks that had just been offered along with the bouquet—had disappeared. The flat fireworks bag that this girl was holding seemed to have been offered in that place. Or was it just that I couldn't see it because it was blocked by the utility pole?

      “Ah, what to do.”

      She suddenly spoke, sounding troubled.

      “I was planning to set off fireworks, but I forgot to bring matches or a lighter.”

      “Ah, I have one. Do you want to use it?”

      Hearing her words, I suddenly remembered the lighter I had put in my backpack and replied. A look of joy suddenly appeared on her face.

      “Really? Can I?”

      I nodded and walked over to her—only then did I finally realize.

      She was barefoot.

      I felt an invisible current pass through my neck. The temperature hadn't dropped compared to earlier, yet my back felt cold.

      On the cement square by the sea, she was not wearing shoes.

      “Hey—this won't light at all!”

      She complained, opening the fireworks she had taken out from the bag.

      The bag contained a thin candle for lighting the fireworks, so I stood the candle on the cement ground and lit it with the lighter. Since I rarely used a lighter, I couldn't get it to light at first, and just as I was puzzled, the girl said, “Give me the lighter,” rubbed her fingers together vigorously, and lit the candle.

      However, the crucial fireworks just wouldn't light. When I held the firework head to the flame, only the flame flickered at the front of the firework stick, and I didn't see a single spark fly out.

      “Could it be damp... after all, it's been a long time.”

      I listened to her lonely voice, while my attention had just fallen on the shadow of the utility pole. Were the offering fireworks still placed there? If the fireworks the girl was holding were indeed the ones placed there, then it would be normal for them not to light. In a place without a roof, exposed to the wind and rain, even gunpowder would get damp.

      “I say...”

      “Hmm?”

      I asked her, who spoke calmly. My heart raced.

      “The bouquet over there, is it because someone died?”

      “Which one?”

      “The one over there, behind the utility pole. There are many flowers, and a unicorn stuffed toy.”

      “Oh...”

      She nodded slowly, but did not look towards the bouquet or the utility pole, instead taking out a new firework and preparing to light it.

      “I think a few years ago, there was some accident.”

      “—Could it be that a girl died?”

      “Why do you say that?”

      “The stuffed toy, the milk tea can... it feels like these are all things belonging to a girl.”

      “Hmm.”

      She nodded. Taking out a new firework, she looked at me and said.

      “Indeed, it seems like a girl.”

      “What kind of accident? A drowning accident?”

      “Hmm.”

      A gust of wind blew, causing the candle flame to flicker and suddenly extinguish. Her eyes still did not look towards the bouquet. She stared intently at my face and spoke in a whisper.

      “Yes, she died from a drowning accident.”

      I swallowed hard to avoid being discovered by her.

      In the next moment, her face returned to a comical expression, and she said, “Ah, it went out,” then reached for the lighter and lit it again with ease.

      I looked at her, then at her shadow.

      After all, I had heard in various stories that the dead have no shadows.

      However, the area illuminated only by the streetlights and moonlight was dim, and the shadows of the buildings on both sides faintly pressed down, making it impossible to see if there was a shadow beneath her feet. I looked down at my own feet, and even the edges of my own shadow were indistinct.

      After trying several fireworks, she let out a puff of breath.

      “Hey, this won't light at all, how can that be?”

      “...It must have all gotten damp, right? Maybe we shouldn't set them off?”

      “Hey, I don't want to! I want to try them all out. I feel so unwilling.”

      The way her white dress swayed looked fairy-like, light and dreamy, and it even felt like she was too light. She took out a new firework from the bag and handed one to me.

      “Shall we set them off together?”

      I didn't answer her, but under her insistence, I took the firework. I squatted down like her and brought the end of the firework close to the candle flame.

      However, the firework didn't spark at all.

      We faced each other with the fireworks directed at the flame, and then she spoke.

      “By the way, can I ask you a question?”

      “Hmm.”

      “Are you running away from home?”

      The short candle began to drip wax as it flickered in the swaying flame. I didn't dare to look at her, focusing all my attention on the tip of the firework—I pretended to be calm, but inside, my heart was pounding.

      “Why do you ask that?”

      “It feels like you are wearing a uniform—it's not the uniform of a nearby school, so you must have run out directly after school.”

      I pretended to be calm and asked her back, but unexpectedly, she answered me with a serious expression.

      “A junior high student?”

      “Hmm...”

      “Really? I'm also a junior high student.”

      I nodded, then regretted it, thinking I should have at least said I was a high school student. However, hearing her say she was also a junior high student made me feel relieved that I hadn't lied.

      I felt that tonight, the night was thick. The first night spent in an unfamiliar city. I felt that now I could ask.

      “Um, can I ask a question too?”

      “Sure, what do you want to ask?”

      “You aren't a ghost, are you?”

      My lips trembled slightly; I originally wanted to say “ghost,” but ended up saying “ghost” in a prolonged manner. However, upon hearing this, the corners of her mouth slightly lifted. She asked me the question I had asked her back.

      “Why do you ask that?”

      I couldn't answer. I didn't dare to continue staring at her bare white feet. She asked again.

      “Why do you feel that way?”

      “It's so late, and you're dressed so lightly, and—”

      I tried to explain. Generally, one would think that there couldn't possibly be any ghosts. In fact, I had never seen a ghost before.

      But now, perhaps there are ghosts. Maybe I have attracted a ghost.

      If I were to say why, it would be because I am now very close to “death.”

      “Um, let me ask one more question.”

      Even if I called her a ghost, she didn't show any signs of wavering, gave up on the firework she was about to light, casually placed it on the cement ground, and took another firework. She held the firework to the flame and asked another question.

      “Are you planning to die?”

      My head felt like it was struck by a strong wind, shaking violently. My lips pressed tightly together, hoarsely uttering a retort, “Why do you ask that?” But she clearly heard this weak, hoarse retort. She didn't look at me, just stared at the tip of the firework and replied.

      “Just now, when you took out the lighter, I saw that there were ropes and knives in your backpack. The blade seemed to be wrapped in a towel; that must be a knife, right?”

      Faced with her question, I remained silent. She continued.

      “Are you planning to use the lighter to do that? You clearly don't know how to light it, yet you carry such things, which raises suspicion.”

      She spoke as if singing, raising her head, no longer looking at the firework, and locking eyes with me.

      “If you plan to burn yourself with a lighter, it would be very painful.”

      I felt—she was wrong.

      I hadn't decided how to die. Although I had brought a knife and rope, I wasn't sure if I had the courage, so I felt it was just a precaution. If I were to do it—I planned to find a place to jump off.

      “No.”

      I finally spoke. She squatted down to my height, holding the firework, silently staring at me.

      “The lighter is... meant to be used when I plan to give up.”

      I didn't know why I was saying this; I hadn't dared to tell anyone anything before. But the words seemed to overflow and couldn't be stopped.

      “I plan to burn the suicide note when I give up.”

      As I spoke, I realized that this was how I felt.

      I had taken the lighter used to light incense in my grandmother's altar and put it in my bag. I thought I had just collected items that reminded me of the word “death,” but it turned out that I thought this way. What giving up? At this moment, I was still thinking about such things. I suddenly realized that if I wanted the suicide note to disappear completely, rather than tearing it up or throwing it away, I would need a lighter. I hadn't discarded that possibility yet.

      I had clearly made such a strong resolution, yet I was still stunned when I realized my thoughts.

      She spoke calmly and clearly.

      “Don't do that.”

      Those eyes, not blinking at all, looked at me seriously through the flame.

      “It’s very painful.”

      “But, but...”

      My throat trembled, and my shoulders felt hot.

 I could hardly remember when I first felt strange. When I felt strange, everything had already changed, and it had become a luxury to think about returning to my previous daily life. From the first semester to the time I entered summer vacation, I could still endure it, but when school started again, it became so oppressive that I felt suffocated, and I thought I could no longer endure it.

       “It’s you, isn’t it?”

       “It’s what you said, right?”

       I clearly said I didn't know, and I clearly resisted saying it wasn't, yet no one paid attention to me, and the friends in the club who accused others too much in a way I couldn't help but notice just gave me a meaningful glance and awkwardly left me. By the time I noticed, no one was around me anymore.

       My classmates in the class also unknowingly learned about what happened to me in the club, and I gradually felt suffocated in the classroom. I felt—people were laughing at me. That girl was the one who had a fight with someone. It's best not to get involved with her. It wouldn't matter to laugh at her.

       I went to find the teacher and said I wanted to quit the club, and then the seniors and those girls said to me.

       “Are you trying to escape?”

       “It’s clearly your fault, and you still want to escape?”

       “If you are reflecting, then show it with your attitude. Show us what you can do. What are you escaping from? You hurt us.”

       As long as I saw the wind instruments I once loved so much, as long as I heard the sound, my heart would become painful, my heartbeat would start to accelerate, and I would hear sounds behind me, as if everyone's voices were chasing me, and my fingers holding the clarinet would tremble—at that time, I began to think.

       I was not wrong. So I had to let you all see. In the world after I die and disappear, you all should reflect. You should imagine what kind of feelings I had, feel the pain, and be pointed at by various people.

       My oblivious mother and father would surely be heartbroken because I disappeared today. Just thinking about this made my heart feel as if it were being torn apart. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—. I imagined again and again that my mother would be very sad after learning that her child was hated by everyone.

       After I die, perhaps someone will mention the word “bullying.” But I was not bullied. I was hated by everyone, unknowingly. Being close to me would make people feel ashamed; this kind of thing tormented me.

       “I have already made up my mind. I must do it today. Because I can’t go back. I can’t imagine going back home again, nor can I imagine going back to school again. I have mustered the courage to come this far for the first time, and if I don’t succeed today, I won’t be able to muster the courage again.”

       I no longer have to return to the world of daylight—I thought this way, feeling reluctant, as I looked at the scenery flowing outside the train window today. This was also my first time coming to the seaside at night. So I no longer wanted to go back. After going back, I would repeat every day like that, just repeating every day, whether tomorrow or the day after, I would have to live in that place every day, just thinking about this made me almost scream.

       But—

       “Don’t do that. At least not today.”

       The girl said in front of me. We had just met, yet she looked at me seriously with a stern gaze. I thought no one would ever look me in the eye again. Her gaze glanced to the side.

       “If you get through today, something might change.”

       “That’s impossible. Nothing will change.”

       “Aren’t you coming this far for the first time?”

       Her tone suddenly became stern.

       “Since you can come here, you will be fine. Don’t do that.”

       “But...!”

       My throat hurt, as if someone was choking me, and I shouted loudly with a crying tone, just at that moment.

       My hand—suddenly burst into light.

       A sharp sound exploded, and dazzling light suddenly appeared in the darkness. The firework was ignited, shooting out a long spark like a comet tail from my hand.

       “Huh?”

       “Huh!”

       Both the girl and I exclaimed in surprise. Throwing aside what we had just said, we then exclaimed,

       “Wow—!”

      “Wow—!!

      We both exclaimed in excitement.

      “It lit up!”

     

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