Prologue. He Left No Trace in Anyone's Memory
January. A cold season spring had yet to touch. A quiet afternoon, the rain coming down.
A man lay on his bed, staring up at the sky beyond the window.
A sky that showed him nothing.
Dark clouds swollen with rain had swallowed even the sun, leaving only a dim, leaden expanse.
What am I hoping for? What the hell am I hoping for... that I live like this?
It was an old question of his. Worn threadbare from being turned over since childhood, and still unanswered — a stale, moth-eaten thing. He endured by promising himself that a sunlit day would come eventually. But every time the crushing, endlessly heavy thing called reality bore down on him, a searing pain would bloom in his chest, and instead of blood, that same question would surge up his throat.
A question even he himself did not understand, and so could never answer. That unanswered question would summon another, and that one would summon yet another. Before he knew it, his mind was packed so full there wasn't room left for a single thought more — and still he could not escape.
Then a low rumble sounded through the room. Pulled from his reverie, the man turned and picked up the phone from his bedside.
"It's already evening?"
He sighed at the screen that read 5:27. To a man who had grown sick even of eating, it was a loathsome hour. Time to eat.
He rose from the bed, pulled on a coat, and took the wallet sitting on his desk.
"Don't really want to get wet..."
The rain had fallen all day without a hint of stopping. Knowing his pant cuffs would be soaked for certain if he went out like this, he folded them up five times at the door, pulled a clear umbrella from the stand by the entrance, and stepped outside.
He rode the elevator down to the first floor and opened the umbrella. The sound of rain bouncing off the canopy eased the gloom he'd felt about getting his cuffs wet. Humming under his breath, he walked into the convenience store seven minutes from his apartment. He'd been thinking about moving lately, and the distance from a convenience store was one of the reasons he'd decided to go.
"Welcome..."
It was the same store he always came to, but the girl working the shift flushed red every time. He had lived his whole life like this, so it never felt awkward, and he never jumped to any strange conclusions. Still, it had been a long time since he'd met a woman who couldn't get used to it — and he had been coming here for over five months now.
He gave a light nod of greeting and started picking things out. A pile of instant ramen, a few boxed lunches, then another pile of sweet snacks and desserts, all of which he set on the counter.
"Please take this. It's on the house."
What she held out was a vitamin drink.
"I-it's not like I mean anything weird by it! It's just, the expiration date is today. Ah — that doesn't mean I'm giving you something we were going to throw out!!"
"It's fine. I'll enjoy it. Thanks for your hard work."
Leaving her blushing once more, he stepped out of the store. On the way back he would normally have enjoyed a walk, but the rain made that impossible. The man liked rain. He just didn't like getting caught in it.
He was almost home when a cat's cry drifted from a nearby alley.
"What are you doing here?"
A box sat in the alleyway. The cat inside it, soaked to the bone, looked up at him. Those large, bright blue eyes seemed to shine even on this gloomy, rain-soaked day. Even the white fur, plastered flat and dripping, could not hide the cat's cuteness or its elegance. It was far too beautiful a creature to have been abandoned.
"You're really cute. If it weren't for the building rules, I'd take you in myself. I'm moving soon — if nobody comes for you by then, want to come with me?"
The cat meowed as if it liked the idea, and he reached out to stroke it. It didn't shy away. It accepted his touch. He truly would have taken it home if not for the villa's regulations.
"You're really something else. Is this what they call a dog-cat these days? I want to give you something to eat — do you eat fish cakes?"
He rummaged through the convenience store bag, pulled out a fish-cake stick that had been sitting at the bottom, and held it out. The cat shook its head and meowed, as if to say no. Thinking how genuinely smart it was, he paused, wondering what else he could offer — and the cat gave his idle hand a little nibble.
"Ow!"
A trickle of blood welled from the bite. Strangely, though, he felt no anger toward the cat.
"You shouldn't bite. That hurts."
And he stroked it again.
"Hmm... I don't have anything I can give you right now... Would you drink milk?"
He pulled out a half-liter carton and showed it. If he tore the top open front to back, the cat would be able to lap it up easily enough. But the cat refused that, too.
"You don't want this either?"
The man thought for a moment, then nodded.
"Alright. Then I'll give you this! Don't go catching a cold, okay?"
He leaned the umbrella he had been using against the box the cat was in, and took off running.
Patter, patter.
The sound of pouring rain ricocheted through the small space, striking this way and that. The cat watched him run for a moment, those large eyes glittering.
"Myaang."
Just as the man was about to leave the alley, the cat let out a clear, beautiful cry, like a bell. It was not a loud cry. The man at the mouth of the alley surely should not have heard it. But he heard it clearly — and the moment he did, his body stopped.
What? What's going on all of a sudden?
He was thrown by the sudden turn of events. January rain was the kind that sank into your bones. Behind the trembling man, the cat strolled up at its leisure, came right up to his back, and stopped.
What's happening? Why can't I move?!
After watching his back for a moment, the cat leapt from where it stood and swatted the back of his head with a front paw. A picture-perfect kitty punch.
"Ow! Who... ugh!?"
The sudden impact restored his ability to move. He turned to see what had hit him — and his vision blurred. The street spun in circles. He shook his head, but it would not stop. Watching the scenery warp and distort, his sense of balance seemed to go as well. Even standing became too much, and he dropped to his knees.
Fear gripped him at this bizarre situation, and his breathing grew ragged. Tears had gathered in his eyes before he knew it. This was an alley. A weekday afternoon. Everyone was at work, or staying in because of the rain — there was virtually no one passing by.
Am I... going to die like this?
He shouldn't have had any lingering attachments. Was it simply the fear of death? Or had he been holding onto some regret he himself didn't even know about?
I want to live... I don't want to die like this...!
The man who had thought he would accept death calmly now cried out that he wanted to live. And then the cat entered his field of vision. That mysterious cat that had carried a strange air of dignity. The cat so comfortable with human hands. The cat that had struck the back of his head. It approached and pressed its mouth to his lips. And with that moment, the man closed his eyes.
He was the perfect soul to save my world. I did not descend intending to seek out a meeting such as this — and that is precisely why I never cease coming down to the human realm. I only hope that child will understand as well...
The cat stroked the closed-eyed man's face with its tail. And it recalled the first moment it had pressed a paw to his lips.
Love.
A love that hungers.
A love faithful to desire.
A love that never changes.
The true wish the man himself had never known — the hope he had spent his entire life searching for — had revealed itself so easily before the cat. And at that unwavering wish, the cat had made its decision.
May you fulfill that wish in my world. I shall burn every last spark of my remaining life for you.
The cat's eyes shone brighter than they ever had. That light sank into the man's body, and the cat, already beginning to scatter, licked his cheek.
O you who have conceived my flame.
Become the sun that illuminates my fading world.
The man remained in no one's memory.
Without leaving a single trace, like vapor vanishing into air, in a single instant.
In the space of a fleeting moment —
one man's existence disappeared from the Earth.