I. 1989, A Library, Japan
1
“Is there a moon in heaven?”
“There is.”
“You're lying,” Kimiyo said with a shake of her head. “You've never seen that.”
“I don't need to have seen it to know.”
“I know there's no moon.”
Kimiyo said this in a sullen voice and picked up the black stamp off the front desk. November 18th, 1989. The stamp bore the current date.
“Heaven has everything.”
Kirisame, the librarian, took the stamp and pressed it onto Kimiyo's library card. The eight numbers indicating the date were left behind. Kimiyo took the card and waited a moment for the ink to dry before inserting it into her book.
“It looks like it might snow.”
“I forgot my umbrella,” Kimiyo said with a sigh.
Outside the window hung a dim, ashen sky. It was so dark it was hard to believe it was still daytime. The old wooden window frames were rattling, probably from the occasional gust of wind. Even the glass was vibrating slightly. Kimiyo looked at her reflection in the glass. Her expression was extremely gloomy.
Kimiyo picked up her bag at her feet, waved goodbye to Kirisame, and headed for the library's reading room. After a short walk down the hallway, the door to the reading room was on the left. It was a sliding door that was getting up there in age, and the panel made a loud noise whenever it was moved. It was so loud that it would make you want to cover your ears, and it echoed throughout the library, but nobody was annoyed. Everyone already knew the nature of the door, and anyone who didn't would never visit this library.
A private library owned by the “Foundation of Knowledge”. The vast library built in the northernmost part of Japan was almost never referred to by its real name; most people just called it “The Library at the End of the World”. (See figure) The Foundation was originally established on the outskirts of town, so that was where the library was located, far away from public transport lines. Although the library had recently undergone extensive renovations, the building's existence was still a secret known to only a few people. It was called “The Library at the End of the World” due to its distant location and lack of popularity.
Kimiyo discreetly pulled the door open and entered. It was dark and dreary. When she turned on the light, several long tables were revealed by the pale blue-white of the fluorescent lights. All the tables and chairs were angular and looked solid. When she actually sat down, she found they were hard and uncomfortable to sit on. Kimiyo, however, was used to it and could sit on them for hours. She was alone in the room. She'd taken a seat near the center.
The room wasn't very spacious. It seemed to be just the right size for a reading room, but it felt somewhat chilly. Kimiyo hid her hands in her sleeves and spread the book on the table. It was a story based on Western folklore. It seemed the book's covers had originally been a velvet red, but the brownish color they had now was more reminiscent of a barren desert.
As she unfurled the pages and began to follow the letters with her eyes, the door suddenly flew open with a loud bang. It was a violent sound, as though something had collapsed somewhere. It gave her a headache. Judging from the sound, there was no doubt that the door had been opened by someone who didn't know about its issue. Kimiyo looked up and saw the visitor. He was a young man wearing a black peacoat. Kimiyo vaguely guessed that he was in his mid-twenties. He glanced at Kimiyo with a puzzled expression, then looked around the reading room. Finally, he returned his gaze to Kimiyo. Kimiyo's shoulders shrank and she decided to pretend not to have noticed his look. However, he was already slowly approaching her.
“Good afternoon.”
His tone was less than pleasant.
“Good afternoon,” Kimiyo replied.
“I've been looking for you for a long time. A very long time.”
“Me?”
“I was looking for you.”
“I don't know you.”
“That's alright. I thought maybe you did.”
The man turned to the blank white wall with a faraway look in his eyes. The wall was shabby, and its paint peeled. He might have been imagining something using that wall as a screen, but Kimiyo had no idea what it was.
“My name is Kito. To be precise, now my name is Kito,” he said in a hushed voice. “Do you believe in reincarnation? No, there's no need for you to believe me now. We keep meeting each other. In this world, we've met many times over the course of the centuries. We met before in Tokyo. We met near the French-German border. We may have met in New York, and we may have met in Vienna. And today, we met in this library.”
“Ahh, sure,” Kimiyo sighed, not hiding her irritation. “That's really lame. If you wanted to talk to me, you should have just done it like a normal person. Please leave me alone.”
Kimiyo raised her hand as she spoke. She was angry at how impolite he was. For some reason, she found it particularly hard to forgive him. However, as she looked for a place to bring down her raised hand, she couldn't find one. Kimiyo had no choice but to withdraw her hand, interlacing her fingers in her lap.
Kito stroked the collar of his black coat with his slender fingertips. His movements were delicate.
“You always say 'That's no good. That's a lame way to do it',” he said. “But I didn't approach you casually, and I don't want to get to know you. We already knew each other from the start. No, you don't have to believe me. But I will tell you one thing, even if it is lame. We will continue to be reborn. Forever and ever.”
“I don't believe in reincarnation.”
“You think it's impossible?”
“When we die, we just sleep forever in a world of darkness. Even children know that. No matter how much you wish it wasn't so, there's no heaven and no reincarnation. It's all nonsense for the churchgoers.”
“But I have to talk to you about the fate of our reincarnations. We've been reincarnated, and we met in this library in 1989 – I know this might sound ridiculous, but please let me finish. We've been reunited. But this meeting wasn't foretold in the stars or anything. We were just bound to meet each other eventually, even if we didn't intend to. And we're also bound to kill each other. We keep reincarnating, we keep killing each other – you see, we have a curse engraved upon our souls that every time we reincarnate, one of us will kill the other. Eventually, at some point in the future, either you will kill me, or I will kill you.”
Kito's eyes looked serious, but Kimiyo couldn't help but think that it was all a setup. When she began to doubt his attitude, everything about the Library at the End of the World began to look like a set for a stage play. She looked at the door. Was that door so noisy because it was a cheap, hastily set up prop? No, it wasn't. It was just an old door that made a terrible noise. It had to be. But how and where did it scrape against to make a noise like that? Kimiyo was confused. She shook her head.
“I understand. I've been reborn. And so have you. Is that right?”
“And eventually, one of us will kill the other.”
“And one of us will kill the other,” Kimiyo repeated Kito's words. “I feel like an idiot. This is so stupid.”
“It really is.”
Kito laughed.
“Besides, what you're saying doesn't make sense.”
“Which part?”
“Why are you the only one who has memories from your previous life?”
“I don't know. Not for sure, but I do have a sort of idea.”
“You don't get it, do you?” Kimiyo narrowed her eyes and scoffed. “That raises a more important question. How do you know I was reincarnated? You might have known me before I was reborn. But then I was reborn, wasn't I? My appearance must be completely different, and the place where I live, too. And I myself have no memory of any previous life. So how could you possibly know that I'm the reincarnation of the person you remember, in other words, the reincarnation of me from my previous life?”
“Because of the moment I was reborn as Kito. The moment I return to this world, I see you.”
“My appearance?”
“Yeah. I kept looking for you. Even though your name changed and you were born anew, you were still you. I was still me, too. But I killed you with my own two hands – I want this stupid nightmare to end. I want you to understand, I don't want to kill you. That's why I came here, to this Library at the End of the World.”
“I don't want you to kill me either.”
Even as the words left Kimiyo's mouth, she felt as though she was being cruel. Kito's head was drooping. He looked serious. He had the same lonely shadow around his eyes as when he'd first entered the reading room.
“May I ask you something?” Kimiyo asked softly. “Who was I?”
“You were a student at an art college in Tokyo. It was 1971. Unlike the present you, the previous you had retained your memories of your previous life, so we were able to reunite again relatively quickly. We attended the same university. You were my junior. The pictures you drew were beautiful. You always laughed at my art. But I was a music student, so it couldn't be helped that I was a lousy artist. But you always praised my piano playing.”
“Guess I was pretty mean.”
“Ha,” Kito laughed, never looking up from the floor. “You were mean, but you were wonderful.”
“But you killed me.”
“Yeah. I killed you.”
“Why am I the only one who can't remember anything from before my current life?”
“We were trying to break the irrational chain of reincarnation. I think we actually made it halfway to success. But I guess it was only halfway. That's why you lost your memory.”
“When I lost my memory, that was breaking the chain of reincarnation. If you hadn't appeared before me like this, everything would have been fine.”
“No. Even if we hadn't met again today, one day one of us will kill the other, either me or you. It's a curse that has persisted since the era of the Six Headless Knights. In our previous life, you and I tried to escape from the curse. But maybe because we only made it halfway, you were reborn as the Kimiyo you are now, without knowing anything about it.”
“Not that I really care, but what are the Six Headless Knights?”
“It's a French legend from the 13th century.”
Kito glanced at his watch.
“I'll tell you more later. I have to go, I already called a cab. Taxis come even to the end of the world.”
“Goodbye, I hope we meet again,” Kimiyo said sarcastically.
“I'm sure we will.”
Saying this, Kito left the reading room. It seemed he'd learned his lesson regarding the noise of the door, as his exit was polite and quiet. As soon as Kito left, the usual silence suddenly descended on the room. The Library at the End of the World really did feel like a sorry building, isolated at the edge of nowhere. Kimiyo looked around the room. There was a window high on the wall. At the moment, it was covered by pitch black curtains, so she couldn't see through it.
Suddenly, through a gap in the curtains, she saw the ghostly pale face of a girl. Kimiyo let out a small scream of surprise, but the girl had already disappeared. Kimiyo convinced herself that she must have been seeing things. She was at the end of the world. There was nothing beyond that window. Nothing but an empty grey expanse. No – it might snow soon. Kirisame said so. It might have been snow. Kimiyo returned the book to her bag. She didn't think she could focus on reading anymore.
Kimiyo left the reading room. Kirisame was still at the front. He was reading a science magazine with his feet propped up on the desk. When he spotted Kimiyo, he smiled and beckoned her over.
“Hey, listen to this.”
“What is it?”
“Bats can perceive space in three dimensions using only sound.”
“So? Even a human can recognize where a sound is coming from. Hey, did it wind up snowing?”
“Go see for yourself. Do you like snow?”
“I do.”
“Come on then, young lady. Here's your umbrella.”
Kirisame took the umbrella out from under the front desk.
“Do you believe in reincarnation, Kirisame?”
“I do. No, I should say I want to believe in it. That's the honest truth.”
“I wonder if people actually can reincarnate.”
“There are stories of children in this world who are born with memories of their previous lives. Children who can speak and write in languages they were never taught, or accurately describe cities they've never visited. Once there was a girl whose past life was a Japanese soldier. She had a masculine personality and even had memories of being shot to death by a machine gun.”
“Is that true?”
“It's true as a story. But I don't believe that reincarnation as a phenomenon is real. That's the reality.”
“But you still believe in reincarnation, Kirisame?”
“Yeah. There are many secrets surrounding the phenomenon of reincarnation that science can't explain. There are cases of people being born with physical characteristics from their previous lives, like bruises or scars from injuries.”
“That's a strange story,” said Kimiyo, tilting her head to the side. “Why do reincarnations occur?”
“American scientists have attempted to explain the phenomenon of reincarnation with things like lying witnesses, latent memories, or genetic memory. Certainly, among the thousands of reported cases of reincarnation there may have been some lies, and some may have been the person speaking about latent memories without realizing it. However, as for genetic memory, I can only say it's nonsense. Memories aren't stored in the genes, they're stored in the nerves of the brain. Even if you remove a gene and implant it in another person, no memories are transferred, and similarly, memories aren't inherited from parent to child. The memories that make people themselves are once in a lifetime events. They don't come from anyone and they don't go to anyone. You only live once. It's lonely. That's why people long to be reborn.”
“I don't want to be reborn. I'm fine with just the one.”
“Well, you're stronger than most.”
Kirisame stepped out from behind the desk, his arms outstretched.
Kimiyo glared at Kirisame, but she couldn't stop her mouth from curving into a smile.
Kimiyo had been diagnosed with a tumor in her hypothalamus and given six months to live, a year if she was lucky. The late discovery and the size of the lesion made surgery impossible, and she could plausibly drop dead at any moment. Occasionally Kimiyo would develop severe headaches that made her believe that she was halfway dead already. The headaches could at least be controlled with medication. Her doctor had recommended she be hospitalized, but Kimiyo refused.
Kimiyo had no parents. They had also died early due to illness. She'd been taken in by relatives, and since graduating from high school, she'd spent her days in solitude, neither going on to higher education nor searching for a job. It had only been a few months ago that she discovered this neighborhood library.
“I just don't cry easily.”
Kimiyo said this with no expression on her face.
“Really? I was planning to cry along side you when you lay dying. I can't let you die without crying.”
“Don't talk nonsense.”
With a bitter smile, Kimiyo left Kirisame.
As she walked through the dimly lit entryway, she passed Utamika. She was the other librarian. There were two librarians employed at the Library at the End of the World. The only other employees were the director and a few administrative staff members from the Foundation.
“Ah, Kimiyo, how are you?” she asked. “Is Kirisame still in?”
Utamika sounded like she was panicked.
“He is.”
“Oh, thank goodness. I forgot something.”
Utamika ran off, her ponytail swinging behind her. It seemed that woman was always in a hurry. Or was it just that Kimiyo happened to always see her when she was in a hurry?
Kimiyo slung her bag over her shoulder and headed towards the front door. On the way, she thought about that man Kito who had told her about reincarnation. The other side of the glass door was pure white with snow.
It was the Library at the End of the World. It truly did look like the end of the world.
2
The entryway was as empty as ever. The sofa in the shape of the character “ku” (く) was also unoccupied. Passing the entryway to the front desk, though, she saw an unusual amount of people. Kirisame, Utamika, and Miki were all there. Miki was leaning her upper body on the desk and talking with the two librarians, propping up her cheeks in her hands. It seemed they were the ones laughing. When Kimiyo approached, Miki raised a hand to wave at her and said “Hi!” Kimiyo said hello.
“Miki, are you off from school?”
“College is like being on vacation all the time.”
“Is college interesting?”
“It's no fun at all.”
“Then why do you keep going?”
“I haven't been.”
“Ah, I see.”
“You want to return that?” Kirisame took the book from Kimiyo. “Utamika, stamp this.”
“Where was the stamp again?”
“It's right in front of you.”
Kirisame pointed to the desk.
“Utamika, you're so forgetful,” Miki said cheerily. “You'll even forget yourself one of these days.”
Miki was teasing her, but Utamika was so focused on the return that she didn't even notice.
“There's no need to rush.”
Kimiyo received a library card from Utamika with the date of return stamped diagonally on it. When Miki teased her further, Utamika blushed and gave a shy smile. Utamika, Miki, and Kirisame were all Kimiyo's friends. They were the sorts of friends she probably wouldn't have met had she been lying in a hospital bed.
“Utamika, the thing you forgot yesterday was your umbrella, wasn't it?”
The question came from Kimiyo.
“Yes, how did you know?”
“I'm sorry,” Kimiyo replied, handing back the umbrella she'd received from Kirisame yesterday. “This is your umbrella. Kirisame lent it to me, so I went home with it. I noticed your name had been carefully written on the handle.”
“Ugh... After that, I had to walk home covered in snow.”
“Didn't you notice I had it when we passed each other in the entryway?”
“No, I didn't notice at all.”
“It's Kirisame's fault for lending out her umbrella without her permission.”
Miki pointed at him.
“It's Utamika's fault for forgetting it.”
“Is it my fault after all...?”
Utamika's shoulders slumped and her face fell. Kimiyo returned her umbrella and apologized again. Utamika put the umbrella under the desk.
“So? Who's the other guy, Kimiyo?” Miki asked with a smirk.
“Eh? Who?”
“Some guy asked me a bit ago 'Is Kimiyo here yet?' I couldn't give any answer but 'I don't know'. I should have said something more interesting.”
She was probably talking about Kito. Kimiyo remembered what had happened yesterday.
“I don't get it either. He suddenly said some things I didn't understand.”
“Did he confess his feelings for you or something like that?”
“Something similar,” Kimiyo said with disgust. “He said we'd reincarnated, and we were destined to kill each other and so on.”
“What's with that?” Kirisame seemed intrigued and sat up straight in his chair. “That guy's not flirting, he's recruiting for a cult. I wonder if he'll bring the High Priest over tomorrow.”
“Don't joke about that.”
“My bad. Don't lose your temper.”
“If he tries anything weird, we'll all stop him, so why not talk to him?” Miki asked. “You're also looking for someone to love, aren't you?”
“Nope. Not interested.”
“That's awful!” Miki cried out loud. “You can't say things like that. You can't die without having known love. I won't allow it!”
Miki had made up her mind.
“Alright, alright, I'll go.”
“He went that way.”
Kirisame pointed towards the library proper. Utamika anxiously asked if she was really going.
Kimiyo stepped away from the front desk and entered the library with its shelves of books. She opened the wooden door, this one without a glass window, and saw sunlight streaming through the curtains to shimmer at her feet. The curtains were mostly closed, so even though it was daytime, the library's interior wasn't very bright. There were a few wet footprints in the grain of the old wooden floor. Kimiyo followed them between the bookshelves. Works of literature were lined up on either side of her. She didn't look at their spines as she usually did, but walked through the shelves searching for Kito's figure. She found him leaning against a bookshelf labeled 420. He was reading a black-bound book. When he noticed Kimiyo, he looked up.
“I say 'the mug is broken'. But you say 'the mug is broken now'.”
“I don't understand what you're talking about.”
“Humans have excellent memories. That's why we distinguish time so well. Through memory, I know what the mug looked like before it broke. But the mug must have existed in this world regardless of whether anyone remembers it. It's broken now, but it wasn't broken before, and it will probably remain broken in the future. That is the way I think. Both the broken mug and the unbroken mug exist as a single form. In other words, a world must contain either an unbroken mug or a broken mug.”
“Are you talking about parallel worlds?”
“No. I'm talking about a world of points.”
“You're saying time isn't a linear thing that flies like an arrow?”
“You're the one who says that. That's why I'm presenting the laws of physics and thermodynamics. That's proof of the flow of time. But you still doubt that the world has continuity. Your world is a collection of endless points, point after point after point after point.”
“And 'the mug is broken now'?”
“Ah. To you, 'now' doesn't mean the present as perceived, but the world at large.”
“I don't understand what you're saying, but I think it's nonsense.”
“I didn't expect you to be the one to deny it,” Kito laughed. “It's as if it isn't you.”
“You're right. It isn't. The reincarnated me that you knew is gone. I am me. The old me died when she lost her old memories. You just don't want to admit that, do you?”
“You'll remember someday.”
“That day will never come.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I'm going to die. I have a big lump in my head. Sometimes I get terrible headaches. I'm going to die soon.”
“...That can't be true.”
Kito dropped the book in his hands in dismay. He stared at Kimiyo with an expression of despair. His whole form was tinged with utter sorrow, as though he had suffered this experience many times before.
“Even if we're destined to kill each other in every life like you said, I don't have to worry about it this time. I'll die even if you don't kill me. I'll die from a terminal disease before fate gets us to kill each other.”
“What the hell...”
Kito groaned as though in pain.
“If you really insist that one of us has to kill the other, then you can kill me. Finish me off right as I'm about to die.”
“Please, stop. Don't say things like that. How can you just accept death so easily?”
“So I should have just spent my whole short life crying? I don't cry easily.”
“You should value your life more.”
“Don't decide that on your own!”
Kimiyo was furious. She screamed with rage.
Instantly, her head began to hurt. The pain was as though a knife had pierced her skull. The brain didn't even have pain receptors, so why did it hurt so much? Why this much? Kimiyo clutched her head and hunched into a ball on the floor. Kito ran up to her and said something. She couldn't understand what it was. With shaking hands, Kimiyo searched her skirt pocket and found a bottle of medicine. She swallowed three pills. It would take several minutes before the pain subsided. Kimiyo began to count the time from the beginning. One, two, three, four...
“It's okay, it's not your fault,” Kimiyo said.
Kito was about to call someone from the front, but Kimiyo stopped him. She was going to be okay. Seven, eight, nine, ten...
“We've been killing each other for a long time.” Kito crouched down and leaned close to Kimiyo. “Let's get this over with. You're right. You're always right. What a stupid mix we make.”
Kimiyo's headache was too bad for her to pull away from Kito, so she stayed where she was. Kito's body smelled like dry earth. Kimiyo stayed with Kito until her headache subsided. The pain ebbed and flowed in waves, but eventually, it stopped. Kimiyo stood up, leaning against the bookshelf.
“That's the only time you're allowed to touch me.”
“I understand.”
Kito brought a chair from near the window and offered it to Kimiyo. Kimiyo took it and sat down. Beyond the shelves, she saw an old man pass by. He was a rather elderly man who was a regular at the library. He was wearing light brown spectacles, probably reading glasses, and walked with his back bent. But he still looked to be in better health than Kimiyo. The old man walked towards shelf 210.
“Can we talk?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you have any regrets about your life?”
“No.” Kimiyo's answer was cold. “None.”
Kimiyo raised a hand to her hair and stroked it. Kito stared at her for a long time as she repeated the process. He was searching for something hidden, but his eyes weren't sharp. They were kind, gentle eyes that wanted to accept Kimiyo for who she was. Kimiyo looked down.
“I'm trying to be honest with you.”
“I understand.”
“It's okay if you don't.”
“I do.”
“That's not fair,” Kimiyo said with narrowed eyes.
Kito picked up the book by his feet and returned it to the shelf.
“Tell me more. About us.”
“We were lovers,” Kito said, leaning back on the shelf. “But a cursed dagger drew us to our deaths. We always kill each other with the same kind of dagger. Every time we're born anew, every time we meet again, a dagger orders us to kill each other. We can't resist.”
“Could it be, that dagger is...?”
Kirisame had once shown Kimiyo a dagger covered in dust. For some reason, it had been placed in the library's storeroom alongside all the books. It was a dull, dirty old knife, and Kimiyo had quickly forgotten about it. But she did remember that it existed.
“It must be in this library. We always reunite near one of cursed daggers.”
“Will we really kill each other with the dagger?”
“Maybe.” Kito turned towards the window. “There are a total of six daggers in the world. They have drank the blood of countless people in different times and places. The owner of a dagger can never know happiness. It's not just us, the daggers make the world itself miserable. Wherever we run, there's another dagger waiting for us.”
“I somehow can't believe that. It's hard to believe an old blade can be cursed.”
“But in fact, it was because of a dagger we met. No, to be precise, I met you again by following a dagger's footsteps. I was sure you'd be near the dagger.”
“Why on Earth do we have to go through the misery of reincarnating and killing each other? Is it because of the daggers?”
“I thought hard about that. Where did our tragedy begin? Of course, I didn't just think. I searched for the origin of the tragedy by unraveling the origins of the daggers and where they came from. What I found was the legend of the Six Headless Knights from 13th century France. Six daggers and six knights. There seemed to be a connection between them. I dimly remembered it. I was one of the Headless Knights. You were the only daughter of my lord. It is a very distant memory, so blurry and indistinct I can't help but feel that it's the origin of my reincarnations. I looked into the legend and found it was full of strange events. One night, a private order of knights from a certain castle were all found as headless corpses, and a headless knight came back to life to kill the daughter. It's like something out of a ghost story. However, the most noteworthy aspect of the story is the Six Headless Knights themselves. After their deaths, the daggers they carried were taken from their corpses and given to other knights. However, every knight who owned a dagger died on the battlefield. The daggers were later sealed away, but nobles who found the story amusing began to spread it as a rumor.”
“You a knight, and me a lord's daughter. Us, the poor heroes continuously fleeing the curse of the daggers. It's so cheesy.”
“I hope it's cheesy enough to have a happy ending. I don't know why, but the knight killed the daughter and the daughter killed the knight. The curse of that event is engraved upon the dagger and on us.”
“Something happened between us a long time ago, didn't it?”
“Yeah. Something happened.”
3
“Yeah.”
Kirisame and Miki were gathered around the front desk. Utamika wasn't there. It seemed she was in the back eating cake.
Kimiyo explained what she and Kito had talked about. Miki gave the occasional giggle. Kirisame listened in silence.
“A knight and a princess. This story just gets more and more dramatic.”
“She wasn't a princess. She was a lord's daughter.”
“There's no difference.”
“Yes there is.”
“They're the same.”
“...”
Kimiyo remained silent, and thus avoided a pointless argument. Miki affectionately drew closer.
“I don't know if the story's true, but that dagger in the storeroom could be evidence, couldn't it?” Miki asked, as though she were expecting something. “It's the only physical proof we have. However, the reason that dagger is kept in the library at all is a mystery.”
“It belonged to the librarian before Utamika. Apparently, he didn't want it, so he left it in the storeroom without permission. He said he got it from an art dealer in Tokyo.”
“I wonder if it really is cursed...”
“It looked like a regular antique to me.”
“Whatever. Let's get this show on the road.”
“Eh?” Kimiyo tilted her head. “Where are we going?”
“Isn't it obvious? We're gonna go smash that dagger. If it really is cursed to make you two reincarnate and kill each other for the rest of time, then I guess I'll just go break it.”
“That's awfully aggressive.”
“If it were that easy, someone would have done it already,” Kirisame said, holding out his hands. “The fact that the dagger is there in the storeroom today means nobody has been able to destroy it. If it could be removed from the world so easily, it wouldn't have gained such an exaggerated reputation.”
“Then let's just throw it in the trash.”
“Clever.” Kirisame patted her on the knee. “Miki, you're so clever.”
“Kirisame, you're making fun of me! Well, that's fine. Anyway, whether reincarnation really happens or not, we should just keep Kimiyo away from the dagger for as long as possible.”
“I wonder if that will really work.”
Kimiyo was skeptical. She was skeptical of almost everything that had happened today. Kito's words, the legend of the daggers, her own circumstances...
“By the way, how old are you now, Kimiyo?”
Kirisame was the one who'd asked.
“Eighteen.”
“I see, so the numbers work out. Kito said that he'd killed Kimiyo's past life in 1971. So that's the year the woman who was her previous life died. The current Kimiyo was born the same year and is now 18 years old. If she did reincarnate, then the math fits.
“What are you trying to say, Kirisame?”
“The problem is Kito's age. I don't know exactly how old Kito was in his previous life in 1971, but we know he was in college. So he must have been around 20. In his previous life, Kito – or whatever his name was at the time – was unable to resist his fate and killed his lover, Kimiyo's past life. He then died and was reborn. One can't be reborn without first dying. It's not hard to imagine how he ended up, but whatever the case, he must have died during or after 1971. If he had died in 1971, the reborn Kito would now be 18 years old. If he died after 1971, he'd be younger than that. In other words, Kito's current age must be the same as or younger than Kimiyo's age for this all to make sense. But what do you think? When I saw his face earlier, I didn't think he looked under 18. From what I saw, I'd say he's in his mid-twenties. How about it? You two agree, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“So he lied about the reincarnation and the knights and all that?”
“I don't know. But simple arithmetic shows that what he said about your reincarnations isn't true.”
“...Who should I believe?”
Kimiyo muttered to herself as she stared at the end of her shoelace. The laces were still wet from the morning snow. The knot was slightly undone.
“You'll just have to trust your own judgment.”
“I'm not very confident in that.”
“But it's easier than trusting in someone else to make all your decisions for you.”
“Let's quit wasting time and look at the dagger already!” It seemed Miki was eager to make this an adventure. “We need to go to the storeroom. C'mon, let's go!”
Kimiyo stood up as directed, followed by Kirisame. Kirisame called Utamika from the back so that the front desk wouldn't be left unmanned. Utamika sat at the desk with a sleepy look on her face. Kirisame took a ring of keys from a small shelf. Utamika waved to them as Kirisame led them through the office into the work room, and from there to a door in one corner. The door was large and wide, and made of solid wood. Kirisame took a key and inserted it into the keyhole. The door was unlocked.
“Uwah, it's cold!”
Miki hugged herself. As she'd said, a dense chill flowed from the storeroom and spread quickly. Kirisame entered. Miki and Kimiyo, huddled together, followed him.
“Where's the light switch?” Kirisame muttered to himself. Eventually, he found it. “Here we are.”
The room was illuminated by dim fluorescent lighting, finally allowing them to see inside. A bookcase, a broken chair, scattered magazines, a cardboard box full of books, a broken light bulb, a small blackboard with squares drawn on it, a long-handled broom, a thick encyclopedia, an overturned table, a figurine of a frog, an empty glass case, a doll's hat, back issues of City Hall's official newsletter... The whole room was a mess. It was a strange other world. Kimiyo had been allowed a peek into the storeroom once before, but even then she'd felt as though she'd arrived somewhere else, somewhere far away. That feeling hadn't changed.
“There it is.”
The dagger lay haphazardly on the bookshelf. Kirisame took it in his hand and turned back to them. The blade was covered in gray and had a dull glow. It was covered in dust. The sharp point at the tip gleamed in the light of the occasionally blinking fluorescent lights. The handle was decorated with engraved metalwork. The dagger was less than 30 cm long. Kirisame turned back, dagger in hand. Miki and Kimiyo also retreated from the storeroom. Kimiyo coughed several times and cleared her throat. It might have been the dust.
Curious, Kimiyo wiped the dust off the dagger with her clothes several times.
“So this is the dagger that once belonged to a Headless Knight.”
But she couldn't remember anything from her previous lives, even when she saw the light reflect off the dagger's blade.