Chapter 5.1

“I’ve found you. You’re the one who’s going to kill me.”

Back then, my memory was always a blur.

Like my vision.

For much of my life, opening my eyes brought me nothing but pain. I quickly learned that unlike others, however, that I could see still with my eyes closed. Things were… more ambiguous, vacuous, foggy, but at least it wasn’t painful.

But there were many things I couldn’t see. I didn’t remember the faces of my parents, what school I went to, if I even had any friends.

Maybe my memory, or maybe my life, only began when I heard those words.

I stared up that day at a woman. She had tossed an oversized coat over a white turtleneck. A wide-brimmed hat adorned with lilacs covered her umber hair, and her bangs swayed to the side to hide just one of her confident eyes.

“I’m Natsuko Ichinose,” she grinned. “Come with me.”

Natsuko turned around and didn’t check to see if I followed.

She must have felt so sure that I would join her.

She was right.

That was the first thing I learned about her.

Natsuko Ichinose was always right.

We returned that day to what I assumed was her apartment, a midrise west of Sapporo City, in Nishi-ku. It was a quaint place, a unit on the twelfth floor of an older building overlooking the river.

The room was a mess, clothes strewn over the floor, dishes unwashed. The bathroom looked like a typhoon had rolled through. On the kotatsu in the living room, I spotted a family portrait. Natsuko, a man, and a child.

“Are you hungry?” Natsuko asked.

My stomach growled.

“Maybe a little.”

“I’ll make you some food. You can take a bath too. I’ll wash your clothes.”

Natsuko didn’t “make” anything that night. She microwaved a few convenient store lunches and boiled (poorly) some frozen gyoza and laid it at the center of the dining table.

“Do you have a name?” Natsuko asked.

“...Fujiko Kazama,” I replied reflexively. It was a name I saw somewhere. In a family register, I thought. “Fujiko’s fine.”

“Fujiko, then.”

“What did you mean?” I asked. “What you said earlier?”

“Was something I said unclear?”

“You said I was going to be the one who kills you.”

“That’s right.”

“That’s quite the strange thing to say to someone you’ve just met.”

“Quite strange,” Natsuko nodded, “but there’s no hidden meaning regarding what I said. I’ve been looking for someone like you for quite some time, Fujiko.”

“How do you know I’m the one you’ve been looking for?”

“When you get to be my age, you just know things,” Natsuko chuckled. “Call it an old woman’s intuition.”

“You don’t look that old…”

“What do you know about magic, Fujiko?” Natsuko changed the subject. “Have you ever used it before?”

“People I know have talked about it,” I shrugged. “I’m using it every day.”

“Every day? What makes you say that?”

“Nobody else I know can see with their eyes closed,” I said. “I think that must mean I’m using magic to help me see somehow.”

“Quite right,” Natsuko smiled. “You’re a natural talent, Fujiko. It saves me the trouble of having to teach you anything.”

“Teach me?” I asked. “You mean teach me magic? Why?”

“What did I say before?”

“It’s so that I can kill you?”

“Not just me,” Natsuko shook her head, “but others like me.”

“You’re asking a lot from a child.”

“Unfortunately, there are very few other people who can do this, Fujiko, and this is necessary. Very necessary. In fact, I’d say that this world depends on what we’re going to teach you, Fujiko.”

“We’re?”

The doorbell rang.

“Ah, there she is. How punctual.”

Natsuko answered the door. A young woman dressed in a maroon qipao, shorter than Natsuko, walked into the room and seated herself at the dining table.

“Fujiko,” Natsuko introduced. “This is my friend, Fang Fang.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Fang Fang said.

“Are you also going to tell me that I’m here to kill you?”

“What if that’s what I was going to say?” she asked.

“Then I would ask you two why you couldn’t do it yourselves,” I answered.

Fang Fang laughed.

“We are doing it ourselves.”

I went to bed that night with many questions. Natsuko handed me pajamas and let me sleep in the bedroom while she chatted with Fang Fang outside. I’m sure they knew I was doing it, but I couldn’t sleep, so I stayed up to eavesdrop on them.

“You’re sure about this one, Natsuko?”

“When have I not been sure?”

“I thought you’d choose Nakamura.”

“Reiko?” Natsuko said. “No. She wouldn’t have the stomach for it.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“It hardly matters, Fang Fang,” Natsuko said. “Reiko has a different destiny, one that I can’t see. Or maybe I don’t want to see it. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. We have Fujiko now. She’ll do just fine.”

“She’d better be more than fine,” Fang Fang grumbled. “I’d prefer not being stabbed by a rusty blade.”

“It’ll be a long time before then. Don’t be so morbid.”

“Right. A long time from now. You might even agree to be Egregore by then.”

“Please,” Natsuko sighed. “Don’t joke about that. Reiko’s the candidate. not me.”

“But you could’ve been, if you wanted. You could’ve ascended any time in the last several years. I’m sure your government’s quite unhappy about your choice.”

“Which goes to show how little I want it. Let’s drop it, please?”

Natsuko and Fang Fang said little more. They reminisced. Allegedly, they met in a distant country, in a rural village far away from here. They laughed about the wine they drank there. They mentioned names that I can no longer remember. After a while, Fang Fang left, leaving Natsuko to drop our half-eaten plates into the sink.

“We’re done talking,” Natsuko called. “You can go to sleep now, Fujiko.”

I did as I was told. Eavesdropping had been helpful. I returned to bed with even more questions than before. My thoughts were weighted blankets that dwelled on my mind, each new question that I juggled was a lyric in a lullaby calling me to sleep.

Why was I chosen?

Who was Natsuko Ichinose?

Who was I?