The Death on yellow

As I closed the door, I could already feel her eyes boring into my back.
Once again, like in those documentaries—when the lion can’t catch its prey, it looks for another.
In this case, that prey was me.

“Sayo, Sayo, Sayo…” she mocked, her head swaying like the pendulum of an upside-down clock.

“Looks like you finally learned her name.”

“Are you gonna explain what all this was?”

“Dinner.”

I headed for the kitchen, but she cut me off, planting herself like a statue right in the doorway. I could’ve laughed—her pose, hands on hips, was almost comical—but her face and tone were something else entirely.

“Where’d you meet her?”

“The bridge.”

“Eiji, where’d you meet her?” she asked again, her eyes locked on mine, barely blinking. It felt like she was looking straight through me.

“I already told you—the bridge. She was about to jump when I found her, so I decided to bring her here,” I replied as dryly as I could, pushing past her to get into the kitchen.

“Right. Out of all the people in town, you run into her, and out of all the places, you decide to bring her here,” she said, trailing behind me, like she was chasing me around the kitchen.

“Yup.”

“So now you’re going around picking up suicidal people and giving them a place to rest their heads?” she asked, her laugh as mocking as it was grating.

“You should be thanking me. I mean, she’s your new ‘resignation letter.’ If I hadn’t been there, she’d probably be at the bottom of the river by now.”

“So you’re planning to ruin this too? I’ve got another shot—are you gonna take it from me?” she asked, shoving me toward the kitchen counter.

“Ruin? Your shot would be dead if it wasn’t for me. If you want that ‘resignation letter’ so bad, at least make sure you stick close to her.”

“I was going to be at that bridge!” she said, raising her voice, though it faltered a bit. “It’s just… I got held up…”

“You’re insufferable, you know that? You can’t be near anyone, you can’t interfere—don’t you get it? Your ‘boss’ gave you an impossible condition.”

“What are you saying?”

“You’re supposed to resign if you can get someone to want to live on their own, right? How’s that ‘on their own’ if you’re interfering? She’s using you like a toy.”

“Oh… I get it now!” she spat, sarcasm dripping from her words, but her hand pressed against my chest hard enough to keep me in place. “Is this some stupid revenge for the other day? That’s it, isn’t it?”

I tried to put myself in her shoes, to see things her way. It was a way to keep my cool when she was pushing me so hard—physically and mentally.
This time, it was clear, written all over her face—pure human anger, not a mix of emotions.
She was genuinely pissed.

“I already told you, forget the other day. I needed it.”

“Don’t lie. I know you better than you think. Did you replace one dead girl with one who’s not dead yet?”

“I’m not looking for a replacement for Lyse. She’s a weight I’ll always carry.”

“And four-eyes is your way of lightening the load, or what?”

“Listen,” I said, instinctively pulling her hand off my chest and stepping closer to her. “People don’t get replaced. Humans aren’t interchangeable. I didn’t do it for Lyse’s memory.” Each word brought me closer, and I could feel my voice shifting in tone.

I hate to admit it, but I think no mask holds up against the right hit.

“Oh… thanks for the clarification… it was just a random ‘encounter,’ right?”

[You’re about to make me lose my patience.]

“A… way to ease the loneliness, even if just for one night… Sorry for coming back. If I’d known, I would’ve left you alone with her longer.”

[Are you even hearing yourself?]

“Because you two looked so good together…” I noticed her hands tensing—maybe she didn’t even realize it herself, or the flush on her face. “So cute… Watching you made me feel almost like I…”

[No.]

“L-Like… I…”

I pushed her back. Now she was against the kitchen counter. The movements were rough, fueled by mutual anger. It felt like some bizarre dance.

“Like nothing.”

“Why the hell won’t you shut up!?”

“Because I don’t want you to say something stupid.”

She turned her head toward the window. Her fingers gripped the counter tight, like she was anchoring herself or figuring out how to escape the situation.

“I don’t want you to say it’s like you don't belong!”

She didn’t look at me.
Didn’t move her head.
Her eyes just widened—two yellow orbs glowing, narrowing slightly.

“Eiji…”

“Now you shut up.”

“Eiji…”

“I can’t be your resignation letter, Aranara, because the truth is, you were right—I don’t live for myself, but I want to keep going.”

Why…?

“Because your voice makes me want to strangle myself, but I’d be too bored without it.”

“Huh?” She turned her face to me, those yellow eyes locked on mine again, only this time they looked wet, red-rimmed, holding something back with all her strength.

“I want Sayo to live because it’s normal to want people to live.”[I want her to live because I’m selfish.]

“I want Sayo to live because I don’t want her to go through what I did.”[I want her to live because…]

“I want Sayo to live because it’s the only chance you’ve got to resign.”

She gave me a shove—not much force this time, barely nudging my shoulder. She hid her face in her hands and hunched forward slightly.
It was the first time I’d seen her like this.

“I-If I resign… you’re gonna have to deal with me here all the time…” Her voice was shaky, breaking.

“Like it’s been so far.”

“People will be able to see me, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you’ll have to talk to me every time we go out…”

“Deal.”

“And I want a new coat. That parka’s trash now.”

“I’ll get you something springy.”

She didn’t lift her gaze or move her hands from her face. Didn’t need to—I could see the tears slipping through her fingers, hear her ragged breathing.I stepped aside. She wiped her tears with the cuffs of my hoodie and then blew her nose—gross, yeah, but I didn’t want to say anything. No need to.

She climbed the stairs in silence, not looking at me again. I heard the door close and couldn’t help wondering if she was already capable of sleeping or if she’d be, as always, pretending to.
Part of me wanted to be there, but we’d already said what needed saying. We’d cut each other open and licked each other’s wounds, in our own way.

I was far from being anyone ‘special,’ but even so, if she hadn’t been bugging me for the past month and change, I’d probably be several meters underground—if they even found my body.
The night slowed as I washed the dishes, stacking them one by one in the sink.
Would it be self-centered to say I felt like I’d changed, even just a bit?
I’d say it anyway.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t pinpoint when I first noticed a change in her. Sure, she was always good at mimicking humans, but a genuine emotion…
I’d say it was a few days after she talked me out of hanging myself from the ‘crooked tree.’
Before that, she’d disappear often, so I’d use those moments to plan how I’d kill myself.

[Now that I think about it… I haven’t analyzed my death in a while.]

One afternoon, I just took a kitchen knife, slit my wrists, and lay down to sleep. Unfortunately…

[Fortunately.]

She showed up seconds later. Back then, my head was still a pit of guilt, regret, and above all, an overwhelming urge to end the pain once and for all. I was babbling nonsense.
Since no one could see her, she started smashing things in the house. That alerted the neighbors, who called the police.
That was the moment I saw worry in her eyes—though I didn’t know if it was for me or because her ‘resignation’ was about to expire.

“If you’d met me sooner…” I remember saying to her. The ambulance had arrived, and they rushed me inside. One of the doctors thought I was talking to him.

“Listen… idiot… I know you now,” was her reply. I felt ashamed in that moment.

The night kept moving. No trace left of the rain that tied the whole day together. The trees stood still.
No sound but the dripping faucet.

[No… I know you now.]