Prologue
The news itself was enough to make my head throb whenever I thought of it, which was why I urged my horse onward all the faster. The residents of central Kyeongseong averted their eyes the moment I passed, doing their best not to attract my attention. But there were still Koreans among them who hadn't yet heard that my ears were sharp. From a distance, two Kyeongseong gentlemen were muttering to each other in Korean, and every word reached me.
"Did you hear? Tojo's dead."
"The whole world's talking about nothing else, of course I heard. What in God's name is going to happen now?"
"Don't you breathe a word of this to anyone. A Japanese man I know well told me… they say it was actually the Japanese Navy that killed Hideki Tojo…"
The Japanese police officers walking alongside me either hadn't caught the conversation or, more likely, couldn't understand a word of Korean. I alone in the entire party turned my head, interested in what they had to say. The moment the gentlemen's eyes met mine, they froze in alarm, clapped their hands over their mouths, and began whispering to each other in a panic. Not that it mattered — I could hear even the whispers.
"L-let's go. Ajisai is right in front of us."
"Ajisai? You mean that Ajisai? Ajisai Mizuko?"
"Y-yes, her, look. She saw us. Best not to linger."
On the face of it, how accurate could the gossip of Koreans be about news from across the sea? And yet, more often than not, it seemed to cut closer to the truth than what I picked up at headquarters myself. The Navy killed Tojo, did they? It could be true. It felt like only yesterday everyone was in an uproar over Wang Jingwei's death — if Tojo is dead now, that news will be buried soon enough.
By this point, I could no longer predict anything about how this world was turning. I hadn't done anything, after all. I never tried to bend the course of history toward something better, nor did I deliberately steer it toward the worse. Trying to accomplish anything in the body of a twenty-something patrol officer was impossible to begin with. The world was simply twisting along, strange and senseless, all on its own…
"Is something troubling you, ma'am?"
One of the officers looked up at me and asked. Apparently I'd been showing my unease more openly than I'd intended.
"It's nothing. Let's head back. I'm rather tired today — I'd like to rest."
"You're tired, Senior Patrol Officer Ajisai?"
The surrounding officers all laughed. It was true enough — it had been a long time since I'd even let the word tired leave my mouth.
I was hurrying them along toward Jongno Police Station when something caught my eye. It wasn't remarkable, exactly. It was, if anything, a common enough sight: a beggar.
These were hard times. A great war was consuming the world, and nowhere were supplies abundant. Japan least of all. And so, a little girl sitting dazed in the middle of Kyeongseong in nothing but a scrap of ragged cloth for clothing — it wasn't a rare sight at all, really.
For some reason, though, I brought my horse to a dead stop right there. I asked the officer beside me:
"You wouldn't happen to have a slice of bread to spare?"
"Does it concern you, ma'am? Just one of the usual orphans. There are plenty in Tokyo too. No — more in Tokyo, in fact. The Koreans ought to be grateful their heads aren't buzzing with American bombers."
Even as he grumbled, the patrol officer handed over the remaining piece of bread without protest. I took it, dismounted, and walked over to the girl. She showed none of the fear or wariness that ordinary people did when I approached.
"Cold, isn't it?"
I asked first in Japanese. No sign of an answer. I switched to Korean.
"Hungry too?"
"Freezing, and starving."
The reply came in Korean. The girl seemed to stare at me for a moment, then buried her face deep into her knees again. I held out the piece of bread and gestured for her to take it. She accepted it without a word.
"Then what am I to do about the cold…"
Come to think of it, this coat was something I'd bought with my own money. A uniform issued by headquarters would be another matter, but this much should be fine. Besides, this body was sturdy as anything — it shrugged off the cold and had never once caught a cold in its life. Sometimes I wondered whether Ajisai Mizuko was simply invincible.
Leaving behind the puzzled stares of the surrounding officers, I handed the girl my coat. Once again, she took it without a word of thanks. It didn't matter in the slightest. It wasn't as though I'd done it to be thanked.
I shed the coat, loosened up my now-lighter body, and took the reins back from the patrol officer. He grumbled as he passed them over.
"If you've things to give away to nameless little girls, you might as well give one to me."
"What's this — do you want the coat? Or do you just want what's mine?"
I was trading a pointless joke as I swung up into the saddle — and in that instant, the girl's head snapped up, and our eyes met head-on.
Her eyes were jet black. Not rare, exactly — though far from common, such ink-dark eyes weren't unheard of. But they were different. For some reason, looking into them, a strange thought seized me.
That in all the world, no one else could have eyes of that color.
Drawn into those pupils that seemed to drink in every color around them, a silence that could stop my breath coiled around my throat. It felt as though her eyes alone were choking me. That, too, was a feeling I couldn't put into words.
"…Senior Patrol Officer Ajisai?"
"Oh — ah, yes. Let's head back."
I don't know what I missed while I stood there lost in a daze. Whatever I'd felt looking at that girl was surely nothing more than a momentary illusion. This whole world was an illusion to begin with.
I shouldn't have judged it so quickly.