Death in Yellow

As I closed the door, I could already feel her eyes boring into my back.
The thing is... when the lion can’t catch its prey; looks for another.
That prey, in this case, 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 going to explain what all this was?”

“Lunch.”

I headed for the kitchen, but she beat me to it, planting herself like a statue 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 do you know her from?”

“The bridge.”

“Eiji, where do you know her from?” she asked again, her eyes locked on me, barely blinking, like she was seeing 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. Of all the people in town, you run into her, and of all the places, you decide to bring her here,” she repeated, trailing behind me, practically chasing me around the kitchen.

“Yeah.”

“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 irritating.

“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 get another chance—are you going to take it away?” she asked, shoving me toward the kitchen counter.

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

“I was going to be at that bridge!” she said, raising her voice, though it softened a bit. “It’s just… I got delayed… when I got there, she was already gone…”

“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?”

“Your resignation is supposed to depend on someone choosing to live on their own, right? How’s that their own choice if you interfere? She’s using you like a toy.”

“Oh… I get it now!” she spat, dripping with sarcasm, her hand pressing 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 stay calm while she was pushing me, physically and mentally.
This time, it was clear—on her face, it was 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 not-so-dead-yet?”

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

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

“Listen,” I said, instinctively pushing her hand off my chest and stepping closer to her. “People aren’t replaceable. Humans aren’t interchangeable. I didn’t do it for Lyse’s memory.”

Each word brought me closer, my voice shifting in tone.I hate to admit it, but I think no mask holds up against the right blow.

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

“You’re about to make me lose my patience.”

“A… way to ease the loneliness, even if just for one night… sorry I came 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 tense—she probably wasn’t even aware of it, or of the flush on her face. “So cute… watching you almost made me feel like I…”

“Enough.”

“L-Like I—”

I pushed her away from me. Now she was against the kitchen counter. The movements were rough, fueled by mutual anger, but they felt like a strange dance.

“Like nothing.”

“Why the hell don’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 tightly, like she was anchoring herself or figuring out how to escape the situation.

“I don’t want you to say you feel like you’re in the way…”

She didn’t look at me.
She didn’t move her head.
Her eyes just widened, two yellow orbs glowing, then narrowed 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.”

“Then… 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, but this time they were wet, red, 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 have to resign.”

She shoved me—not hard this time, just enough to nudge my shoulder. She hid her face in her hands and leaned forward slightly.
It was the first time I’d seen her like this.

“I-If I manage to resign… you’ll have to deal with me here all the time…” her voice broke.

“Like it’s been so far.”

“And people will be able to see me, right?”

“Of course, Aranara…”

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

“Deal.”

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

“I’ll get you something spring-like.”

She didn’t look up or take her hands off her face. She didn’t need to—I could see the tears slipping through her fingers, hear her shaky 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. There was no need.
She went up the stairs in silence, not looking at me again. I heard the door close and couldn’t help but wonder if she was now capable of sleeping or if, as always, she was just pretending to.
Part of me wanted to be there, but we’d already said what needed saying. We’d cut each other 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 nagging me for the past month or so, I’d probably be several meters underground—if they even found my body.

The night dragged on 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 little?
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 convinced me not to hang myself from the “crooked tree.”
Back then, she used to disappear often, so I’d use those moments to plan my suicide.

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

One afternoon, I just took a kitchen knife, cut 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, a desperate need to end the pain once and for all. I was babbling nonsense.
Since no one could see her, she started breaking things in the house. That alerted the neighbors, who called the police.
That was the moment I saw worry in her eyes, though I wasn’t sure if it was for me or because her 'resignation' was about to expire.
“If I’d met you sooner…” I remember saying to her. The ambulance had arrived, and they quickly loaded me in. One of the doctors thought I was talking to him.

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

The day grew late, and the afternoon kept moving.
There was no trace of the rain that had brought all this together.
The trees were still.
There was no sound but the dripping faucet.

[No… I know you now.]