Memories of That Day (3)

It was a lavish room.

And yet the interior held watchers posing as bodyguards, and cameras planted in plain sight.

Chise had been locked away.

She might be left in this room for years.

She stood at the window.

Beyond the glass, a girl in a yukata was walking toward the house.

"…Noah."

She murmured it, fingertips brushing the pane.

She had seen a scene like this before.

The memory rose unbidden — something more than ten years old.

"There are so many people. I want to go out too."

Whenever a festival opened, the world beyond the glass shimmered with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gorgeous light. Little Chise had yearned for that glow.

Of course, she was never given permission.

The servant who lived with her recited the same line every time, as if she were a machine.

"You may not, young miss. As the eldest daughter of the Fujiwara family, you must preserve your dignity."

Chise was the eldest daughter among the Fujiwara's four sons and two daughters — fifth of the children overall. Ten years separated her from her oldest brother.

In an ordinary household the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠firstborn, and the boys, would have been the ones cherished. The Fujiwara were different. Peculiar circumstances had given the clan a custom of rejoicing more when a girl was born than a boy.

Her father, Fujiwara Kamatari, had been so delighted at her birth that he named her heir on the spot.

Then time passed, and the moment he understood that Chise's hair was not Sakura, everything changed.

The father who had come to see her every day, and her mother with him, would not so much as glance her way.

Two years later the heirship was stripped from her. A younger sibling had been born who carried ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Sakura.

They locked Chise in the mansion and assigned her a nanny. Materially she wanted for nothing — but at that tender age, a child starved of her parents' love began to wither. By the time she turned five she was already a little girl who almost never smiled.

A Fujiwara woman had to be chosen by the Minamoto. Naturally, a girl who smiled often and had a sweet temperament would have been at an advantage. Bearing that in mind, Chise's parents trained her not to smile.

Every time she laughed, she was beaten with a switch.

"Someone's coming. Who is it?"

"…The heir of the Minamoto family, as I told you, miss."

Time moved on. She turned six.

Chise had become a child who almost never showed what she felt. She could not go outside, and she was scolded whenever she smiled; the result was inevitable. Her only pastime was watching the world through the window.

That day, too, she was staring blankly outward.

A black car rolled onto the estate, and a small child received a grand welcome. The girl in a pretty yukata came walking hand in hand with a mother who shared her hair color.

Chise watched, dazed. It was the first time she had seen someone her own age — but what filled her more than curiosity was envy. Unlike her, that child looked loved.

"Nagisa, I want to meet that girl. Can't I?"

"…The Chairman has ordered that you are not even to step into the hallway today."

The head of the Fujiwara clan was Fujiwara Kako. The chairman of the Fujiwara Group was Chise's father, Chairman Fujiwara Kamatari. His word was absolute. To a six-year-old it felt like the sky itself.

Chise asked it flatly.

"They came to see Sakura, then."

"Yes. Today ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is a day of great importance to the Fujiwara family."

It was nothing unusual. Because Chise was always at the window, she knew how many people came to the Fujiwara Clan Estate. Not once had a guest come looking for her. They came only for her little sister, Sakura.

She had never really resented it. She had never particularly wanted to meet anyone.

That day, though, the hurt rose until she wanted to cry.

Why do I always have to be locked in here?

Why is there not a single person who comes looking for me?

Mom, Dad — why won't you even show your faces?

She did not think of leaving. Once, she had gone looking for her mother on impulse and been punished so severely that the lesson stuck. If they came to hate her any more, she believed, she would never see her parents again. So Chise had to turn her eyes away.

"I wanted to see the fireworks…"

She drew the curtains, buried her face in the pillow, and cried for a long time. Everything she had been holding in finally broke. By the time her eyes were swollen red, she heard someone leave the room.

The feeling of being alone made her cry even harder.

And after a long while—

"Hey."

The child from the window was standing right in front of her.

Chise rubbed her eyes, trying to hide that she had been crying. She had no idea how to react, and fumbled hopelessly. Nagisa, the nanny whose face was always blank, was smiling faintly. She was the one who had brought her — Minamoto Noah, who had been on her way to see Sakura.

Chise had not known it then. Years later, when she asked, Noah would answer like this:

That lady got down on her knees and begged me. Just meet her once, she said.

For the first time, Chise was able to talk with a child her own age.

"Why are you in here blubbering? And why'd you pull the curtains? What are you, some child of darkness?"

"What's a child of darkness?"

Noah was little, but her language was colorful, and she had a prickly, fussy air about her. Of course, Chise did not understand that yet.

"Noah-chan, you seem really smart."

"You're only figuring that out now? Slow developer."

The heir of the Minamoto. Chise knew the fact, but it was a distant story that did not touch her. She was still too young. All she wanted, with a purely honest heart, was to be friends with this pretty girl she had just met. She gathered her courage.

"Noah-chan, do you like fireworks?"

"I don't deal in fakes like that. What am I, a little kid?"

"Is Noah-chan a grown-up?"

"I'm a real man."

"What's that?"

"A real man likes carpet bombing more than fireworks."

"Car… carpet! Carpet's so cute."

"Haa. What am I even doing with a kid like this…"

Noah was not an easy girl. She complained about everything and snapped at every turn. Chise knows now that it is simply her nature — but at the time, she was sure Noah hated her.

"Noah, do you hate Chise?"

"I-it's not like I hate you or anything, so don't cry."

"Really?"

"I might start hating you if you cry."

Chise barely managed to hold back the tears that had started to well.

"So. You want to see the fireworks?"

"Yeah! Um…"

She hesitated. In her life, asking anyone for anything had always ended in refusal. The wish to watch the fireworks together was stronger, though, and she forced the words out.

"Will you watch the fireworks with me?"

"What's so hard about that you gotta hem and haw? Fine. Whatever."

Noah granted it with a sour look. Chise was overjoyed. She could do her favorite thing in the world with the first friend she had ever made. She dragged a chair over in small steps, set it in front of the window, and clambered up, grunting, then waved Noah over.

"What are you doing?"

"Fireworks! They're about to start."

For a girl who had always been kept indoors, fireworks were an enormous event. She had nearly missed them today; being able to see them after all made her so happy she kept gesturing. Noah stared at her as if she could not believe what she was hearing.

"Wait. You're not going outside?"

"Hm? You can see them really well from here!"

"Seeing them for real would be better, though."

"I can't. If I go outside I get in so much trouble."

"Trouble? Hm. Figure it's dangerous during the festival, then."

She had a slightly odd way of cutting to the heart of things, even back then. Chise has often thought it is because Noah has the power to do whatever she wants. Turning your brain over and over the way Chise does is something only the weak bother with. If you have overwhelming strength that can sweep everything aside, you do not need to waste effort thinking.

That was how Noah's mind worked.

It was the same when she was little. No — it was worse. She was an eight-ton truck with no brakes. If something got in her way, she shoved it aside.

"That doesn't matter. We're going out. If you're gonna watch through a window, you might as well watch it on YouTube."

"Eh? B-but…"

"Haa, you little brat. If I say we're doing it, we're doing it. Don't talk back. Got it?"

"O-okay."

Noah grabbed Chise's hand without another word and walked out the door. Her pace was a little fast; Chise had to trot to keep up. She was bewildered. To her, the door of that room had been an object she was not allowed to touch. The world beyond the estate was an unknown country she had never set foot in. Chise's entire universe had been her room — a goldfish in a bowl. That was the faith she had lived by. Even if leaving had been possible, it would have taken enormous courage.

Noah had none of that hesitation. She went straight ahead, no questions asked.

Chise would never forget how steadying that felt.

"Ah — young ladies. You really must not come out of there."

"Fuck off."

"E-excuse me?"

"I said get lost, you moron."

A complete menace. The word fit Noah perfectly. She never listened to more than two sentences. If someone looked like they might block the path, she kicked them in the shin — not a casual kick, but a hard press with the back of the heel.

The problem was that she was a Child of Minamoto.

Six years old, and already a monster whose physical ability surpassed that of most grown men. It made no sense.

"Gyaaaaaah!"

"Hmph. Making a fuss over a busted leg. Come on, Chise."

Servants kept stepping into their way. Every time, Noah threw a tantrum about who they thought they were to stand in front of her — hitting, breaking, without a shred of hesitation in her hands.

"N-Noah-chan. Is this really okay? People are getting hurt."

"Human bones get stronger after they break once. I'm doing them a favor."

In no time they reached the first floor of the mansion. A crowd was already standing there. Chise flinched and hid behind Noah. Her father was looking at her with terrifying eyes.

"Move."

"Young miss. Causing a disturbance like this is most improper. There is a schedule that must be kept."

"I said move."

"Throwing a tantrum will not help you."

"…A tantrum? You've got some nerve for a first meeting, you fucking bitch."

Noah turned to Chise.

"Cover your ears for a second. It's gonna be really loud."

"O-okay?"

Click.

Noah was holding a pistol overwhelmingly large for her hand.

"A threat will not— now, if you would please turn ba—"

BANG!

Chise jumped. Just as Noah had promised, it was the loudest sound she had ever heard. Her heart dropped, a single heavy thud. White smoke drifted from the muzzle of Noah's gun.

"I hate four-eyes. Wear contacts next time."

Chise looked ahead with frightened eyes. Her father's glasses were gone. Red blood was running from near his temple.

"I told you to move. Can't you hear me?"

Ordinary people issue a warning, or at least a threat. The proper form is to aim the gun and say one thing first. Noah had none of that. She shot, then looked.

Six-year-old Noah kept firing until there was no one left in front of her — mostly arms and legs. The enormous reports kept rolling through the mansion. Chise crouched with her ears covered, terrified. When she opened her eyes, there was no one ahead. Only red stains that might have belonged to anyone.

Noah took Chise's arm as if nothing had happened and started walking. She tossed off a joke as they went.

"Now this is a real red carpet."

Little Chise did not understand the joke. Strangely, though, she was not afraid. More precisely, another feeling was larger.

To Chise, her father had been the sky. That sky had fled without a peep from a girl the same age as herself.

To Chise, that was… extraordinarily cool.

If something stood in the way, she would clear it, whoever it was. The method was violent — but it planted in Chise the feeling called longing.

When they crossed the entrance, Genji was standing there with his hands folded behind his back.

"Is Dad going to stop us too?"

Genji walked toward them, unhurried. Hearing the word Dad, Chise squeezed her eyes shut. Even Noah, she thought, was about to be scolded terribly. She assumed they would not see the fireworks after all.

And then—

"Sweetheart. If you're going to do anything outside, you'll need money."

With those words he tied a purse at her side.

"And next time, just kill them. A gun is a tool for killing people, not for scaring them halfheartedly."

The Minamoto had walked a history of violence. Perhaps that was why. What Noah did that day became the moment she was judged to possess the greatest talent of all.

"…The fireworks that night were beautiful."

The first fireworks she had ever seen outdoors were intoxicating. Chise had not known they could be that huge. No matter how far she tipped her head back, she could not hold all of them.

And it was not only the fireworks. The takoyaki Noah bought her. The goldfish scooping Noah had thrown herself into, furious that it had to be a scam.

That day had given Chise too many firsts. Precious memories she could not forget for even a moment.

"That night, miss, you held onto me for hours and talked. I told you to sleep, and still you went on until dawn. I was so tired."

Nagisa said it gently from beside her, smiling with kind warmth. Chise smiled back, bright and open.

"I could still talk about that night for hours."

"Yes. More than reclaiming your place as the Fujiwara heir, what made you happiest was being able to stay with the young lady of the Minamoto family."

"Honestly, it still feels like a dream."

That was when it came.

RATATATAT!

A huge burst of gunfire shook the ground. In a crowded indoor space, firing openly without a suppressor — there was only one person in the world who would do that. It was definitely Noah. Someone must have gotten on her nerves.

Chise looked up at the ceiling and murmured.

"It feels like it could shatter any second. Because it's a dream."

Ten years had passed since that night.

Chise was no longer the child of fourteen years ago, the little girl from whom everything was only ever taken. Back then, walking had been all she could do, and that method had been the only one she had.

The situation now was different.

"So I'm going to make the dream real. Nagisa. I want to stay at Noah's side. And for that, I have to prove myself."

Chise looked at Nagisa with cold eyes.

"Nagisa."

"Yes."

"Tell Noah for me."

She turned her back to the window and tipped her head.

Seeing Chise's ambiguous smile, Nagisa bowed her head.

"I will deliver the message."