Yesteryear

Later that night.

It was an uneventful trip home. The three of us rode a bus back to Shibuya, and from there, I deposited Makoto back at her home in Ueno.

Almost no words were exchanged between us the entire trip. It felt like we just had the biggest quarrel of our life, even if no fight actually took place. From the train all the way to the steps of her apartment was nothing but sharing a glance every now and then.

In the end, we only had a simple exchange.

“Good night, Makoto.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

No follow-up messages on LIME.

No calls or texts. Nothing.

I would wager she had too much on her mind, and much to say to me, but at the same time, was there really anything else to be said?

She had already divulged her secret to me. I didn’t take it well—and I made it clear to her.

Likewise, I’m not sure she was receptive to me probing her about the yokai, either.

But it had to be done.

Jou and I didn’t tell her about the yokai incense we were carrying. I’m also uncertain if the nure-onna was able to sniff us out. I assume the answer was ‘no’, if we could get home wholly unimpeded.

Besides, the incense was just a way to talk with her—not like it was a one-way ticket to an exorcism, after all.

There was a lot to process.

Beyond all that, there lay one more thing to think about.

Senpai’s voice.

Later that night, I tossed and turned in my bed as I listened to Jou whisper the day’s proceedings to Ami-chan. The bedside lamp between our two beds was the only way I could make out Jou’s silhouette.

“Hey, Jou. I can’t get it outta my head.”

“...What? Senpai?”

“Yeah.”

Her familiar voice rang in my head like an echo in an abandoned stadium.

It was the most unsettled I had ever been on this trip, and that’s saying something; a yokai had been orbiting me this entire time, and yet it was somebody else's voice that had wracked my brain.

Jou turned to face me, his face half illuminated by the lantern’s light. “I wouldn’t put much stock in it, dude. Maybe we were hallucinating.”

“Both of us hallucinating, the same thing, at the same time? I don’t think so.”

“Maybe the ghost tried to trick us or something. What if this entire yokai incense thing was just a ruse, and that lady actually cursed us for realsies?”

I hung my hands behind my head, burying them into my pillow.

“To what end, though?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t know.”

There was always the possibility that the lady was a malicious spectre and had given us a bunk artifact to mask a curse, but I felt that this wasn’t the case.

It shouldn’t be the case, or I’d really be shit out of luck. The incense was the best and only bet I had in trying to get to the bottom of Makoto’s yokai curse, and I didn’t have enough time left in Japan to doubt my actions now.

After all, there are only three certainties in this world: Death, taxes, and travel visas.

Jou continued, facing away from me. “Either way, we can think about it when we go back home. We still have a day and a half left, so let’s enjoy the rest of the trip. Well… I know I will. No idea what you’re planning.”

“You know what I’m planning,” I said. “Sorry if I have to leave you to yourself tomorrow.”

“It’s cool, dude. We can always come back next year.”

Oh yeah, we can always come back next year.

A doubtful statement, considering this visit was by sheer coincidence, and if that ghost lady is to be believed, the result of some awful curse.

“Well, easy for you to say you can come back next year.”

“Not if you put your mind to it, man.”

A fair assessment—but many things can change over a year. Perhaps something happens that eliminates any chance of me coming back to this country next year.

Maybe I fall into a state of destitution for years on end. Maybe I become swamped with work and become a permanent cog in the machine whose next vacation can only come after retirement. Or maybe even, imagine, if a virus of unspecified origin were to bring all global travel to its knees for the next few years, therefore eliminating any chance of coming back to Japan for a while.

So many maybes. So many ifs.

But I only have now to act.

I turned away from Jou and laid down facing the wall.

“Anyways. I’m gonna get some R and R.”

Jou waited a few moments before answering me.

“Hey, dude?”

“Yeah?”

“Try to get Senpai outta your head, okay? It’s been a long time already. Don’t let it get to you.”

“...Right.”

Of course I could.

She was way out of my head for years, until some phantom decided to dredge up a memory of her.

But why?

***

Though my memory of her face had faded, her existence in my mind had not.

It was years ago, back in university.

I knew she had a real name, but that name had all but eroded itself in the recesses of my mind. We never really used her real name that much, but called her an affectionate nickname more often than not.

Senpai.

I met her just a little before Jou and I arranged an actual meet-up in our time in university. Senpai was a kind, chipper, yet active and outgoing girl just a tad younger than me.

Her name, Senpai, was an irony, considering that I was older than her, but I was also of the same year as her when I came in.

But we had gotten used to calling her that name because of how skilful she was in multiple disciplines.

A great artist, a good singer, charismatic to boot, and was also considered to be one of the college’s greatest heartthrobs.

She was talented. She was amazing.

And I had latched on to her before I had accepted what kind of person I was.

Senpai was fashionable and would come to class wearing completely different sets of clothes every time. Though, in my head, I remember her for a particular outfit the most: A black, sailor-uniform styled outfit and her shiny, black stockings that made her look like she was a cut above the rest of us rabble-rousers.

She would often dye her hair tips a different shade every other month, but for the most part, her hair was long and jet black.

That was the image I had of senpai—the most immortal memory of how she looked in my eyes.

That day, it was a cold latter year month.

Both of us were alone in a classroom, preparing for some presentation we’d prepared together in class for a topic I no longer remember.

She sat by an open window, a cool breeze rolling in, the smell of her citrus soap and shampoo wafting in my direction.

Her luscious, peach lips parted as she spoke.

“Hey. Take a picture of me right now.”

At that time, I always had a camera on me. A simple SLR camera I had rented out for a certain class. And on that day, I took a picture of her.

I made out her figure through the viewfinder. Her lean, curvaceous body had a distinct silhouette that juxtaposed itself against the light of a setting sun. She was the perfect model at that time.

I took a picture, and she loved how it turned out.

“You really have a knack for photography, don’t you?”

“Really? I think you’re better than me at it.”

“Don’t sell yourself short like that. Just because someone can do it better than you, it doesn’t mean you’re not good!”

I remembered those words for a long time.

Senpai was my greatest cheerleader. Senpai was my muse.

Senpai was probably the biggest reason I made it out of university with decent grades—higher than average, even.

Of course, as I already learned, those credentials meant nothing in the face of modern competition.

But beyond that, one could infer that I was totally, madly, completely in love with Senpai.

They couldn’t be more right.

I was totally, madly, completely in love with Senpai.

Senpai was an ideal woman in all senses of the word. Given how utterly talentless and worthless I was, she's the kind of girl that was the picture-perfect representation of a drop-dead beauty hanging around with a generic protagonist with no redeeming qualities.

The cruel twist was that she wasn’t in love with me.

Probably.

The only reason we ever met was because of pure chance.

Early in my school days, I was required to attend a photography class. Just to pass the class, I rented out a camera for a longer time than I needed—I did the most boring thing imaginable for an assignment: taking pictures of birds.

That was the day I met Senpai.

In trying to capture a flock of birds just outside the campus, I captured something else.

A strong gust of wind alarmed the birds at the exact moment of my shot, but in the corner of the photograph, my camera also captured the moment the wind blew up a young lady’s skirt.

She held it down in time, denying me a chance to glimpse heaven. She looked behind her and saw me crouched awkwardly, camera in hand, mistaking me for a pervert trying to chance an upskirt.

Senpai approached me, equal parts worried and angry, and told me to delete the photos. I relented. She grabbed my camera and scrolled to the latest photo I had taken.

Her anger changed to aw when she turned the camera’s photo viewer towards me. And I, too, was surprised to see what turned up.

A beautiful photo that captured the exact moment the birds took flight, and a young girl’s skirt billowing gracefully in the corner of the frame, with nary a hint of perversion. It looked more like the start of a wedding shoot than a more scientific, methodological photo session of birds.

“This is amazing! Is this what you were taking a photo of?”

I never even intended that shot to turn out as good as it did. I simply lucked out on the shot, with absolutely no effort on my part.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

Senpai had forgotten entirely to press charges on my accidental skirt flip photo; then again, no actual underwear was photographed, so no harm, no foul.

That was when Senpai started to hang out with me.

The girl was a photography nut, and kept asking me for pointers on how to improve her own skill at the craft. Naturally, I knew next to nothing about the art, and resorted to regurgitating recycled lectures from my class.

This kept her amused—enough for her to continue to hang around me.

Eventually, she became more of my friend and less of an impromptu student. She met with me even without an academic reason, and simply wasted time discussing common interests and other time-wasters friends talk about.

Though our hobbies were distinct, a few of them intersected at times, and we talked about those topics a lot.

She would call me things like ‘amazing’, ‘talented’, and ‘cool’, when I was anything but. She pelted out compliments like nothing, and it embarrassed me to no end. I had no idea what kind of rose-tinted glasses she wore to perceive that one lucky moment as some sort of skill or talent.

One day, I met Jougasaki, and he met her. We stuck together almost like a school club, even though we were one less member than the minimum, and one of us wasn’t even a real student at the college.

Jougasaki thought something was up between us, and often made space for Senpai and me to be alone together. Usually, a guy would be interested in a lady like Senpai, but good ‘ol Jou had no interest in real women, let alone entertained the possibility of becoming a riajuu.

After school, Senpai would drag me to go on ‘dates’ with her. We’d eat, have coffee, window shop, and explore the city at large together.

In my eyes, we were like a couple.

Of course, I knew that senpai didn’t think of me as anything but a mutual beneficiary. A friend that could provide a useful service to her.

I knew that.

But I couldn’t help but become infatuated with her. And later, to fall in love with her.

But there was no way she’d fall in love with me.

The way she called me all those good things. It had to be a lie, or simply Senpai deluding herself. Because I knew myself better than anyone at that point.

A guy who only has luck on his side, and nothing else.

One day, she gathered Jou, her, and I in one room. She pridefully put her hands on her waist and declared boldly.

“Alright, boys. Why don’t we make a movie?”

Both Jou and I were stunned at this sudden turn of events. Make a movie? How? That was the kind of thought we had at the time.

But Senpai’s expression hid not an ounce of irony—only pure confidence and bravado.

So we went along.

We bought the cheapest, most inexpensive filming equipment we could find and hedged up any excess funds we had to save for better equipment.

Either way, amateur production was going to go in full force.

She wanted to act out in front of a camera, so she appointed me as the ‘director’.

“Eh? Why me?”

“Duh! Because you’re the best at photo stuff!”

At the time, all I could only think to bring myself down. Really? Was I really?

The usual negative thoughts invaded my mind. Thoughts of being only lucky, or deceiving her about how good I really was at this photography thing.

But when I looked at her confident, dreamy smile… how could I ever resist?

Senpai wanted to produce a movie. Senpai wanted to know how it felt to act in front of a camera. And Senpai wanted to show something she loved to many people.

That was all I wanted. To see her smile like that.

Again, and again, and again.

Screw all these thoughts and doubts. I had a mission, and I only had her to thank for giving me the will to break through the fog.

Without her, what kind of person could I have been?

“Okay. But no promises.

I’m not the best at this shit.” I told her.

“It doesn’t matter. As long as you’re doing what you like and you’re good enough to do it is what matters, right?”

Senpai had such relentless optimism that I couldn’t help but fall in love with it.

In fact, I found it all ironic, because Senpai was better at everything I could do. And yet, she looked up to me and what I could do.

If I didn’t wise up for her sake, what kind of person would I be?

Jou decided to help out with the project with whatever means he could. He… didn’t do anything of particular note, but Jou had heart. He did things because they were fun, and that was the best thing about him, too.

I’d spent countless hours trying to get perfect photos and video reels of Senpai acting like a high school thespian on camera. I felt most of which weren’t up to the standards I’d imposed on myself, but Senpai begged to differ.

Those were bright days.

I tried my best for Senpai. I expunged all the usual negativity I had just to see her happy.

Every day was a new smile for her.

After that one cold, dusk afternoon, I asked her.

“Senpai. So why are you doing all this, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Why? Is it wrong?”

“N-no, nothing like that. I’m just… curious, is all.”

Senpai stared out the open window, looking like she was reminiscing of a distant memory.

“Because I promised someone.”

“You… promised?”

“Yeah.”

She held down her hair between her fingers, the wind blowing them to create this picturesque moment of her I would never forget.

She continued. “I have a dream to make people happy. And I promised my dad I would do it for sure.”

“But why promise? It’s your dream, isn’t it? You sure pursue it anyway.”

Senpai shook her head, as she looked at me with a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, but… a promise is a contract. Because you’re not supposed to break promises. A dream is good, but you can forget a dream, even neglect it. But when you promise your dream to someone, you give that dream accountability. When you don’t chase that dream, you break that promise.”

Those words shook me.

Because I’ve never made a big promise in my life.

“I-I see. Senpai, that’s… really admirable.”

She giggled. “You can make a promise to anyway. Even yourself. As long as you find promises sacred, you’ll always find the strength to chase your dream.”

“I’ve never made a promise like that.”

Senpai went up to me and closed the distance. Close enough that, if I didn’t hold myself back then, I would’ve given her an embrace.

She looked at me with longing eyes, as if she was expecting something from me. She stared at me for a moment and stepped back after.

“That’s okay. I hope you will someday.”

I felt like those words meant something to her. I couldn’t shake the feeling she was expecting a specific answer at that moment.

But I didn’t respond.

…

A few days later, Senpai disappeared from school.

The word was that she left the school and transferred. Some even said she was dismissed. Some rumors even went as far to say that the college had expelled her.

I tried to contact her through LIME, through social media, through her phone number—but there was nothing.

I attempted to ask her acquaintances, but I barely knew them, and thus only the cold shoulder awaited me. They even accused me of being Senpai’s weird stalker, asking for information on that bitch.

The way those girls spoke about her. They called Senpai a bitch.

It took every ounce of my strength to not deliver a sharp backhand blow to their skills for even daring to call her that.

It all devastated me. I had no idea what to do after. Every day I would stare at the camera, and all I could think about was:

What the fuck can I even do?

My melancholy so was readily apparent, that even Jou frequented his visits to campus just to chill with me. Despite how he may act, Jou understood me like a brother. That was the first time he insisted he was my brother.

I tried to scrape any information I could about Senpai’s vanishing act. It was desperate, and I would devote almost every other minute to finding the truth.

My grades began to tank from good, to just average or above-average. It was merely the threat of failure that kept me afloat.

Eventually, I followed a notable lead that made me learn of a distressing fact.

Senpai had also moved out of the city. Nobody had any idea where she would have gone, or what became of her.

The word on the grapevine said that she had incurred the ire of at least two scorned ex-boyfriends who were chasing her, one of them almost felonious in their actions.

The conclusion was that she had disappeared from the city to evade the pursuit of these two bastards.

Some even say Senpai had already left the country.

Some even say she had died in an accident or to murder.

I refused to believe that she was capable of scorning two exes enough to make her vanish from my world. From our world.

Either way, there was no reason to go on.

If I couldn’t see her anymore, what was the use?

I never even promised her anything.

I tried my best to search for her, but how could I even begin looking for someone who didn’t want to be found?

And just like that: I could no longer feel the flame of Senpai within me.

Everday had become a chore. I’ve even forgotten what my dreams from way back were. I was too busy mourning the loss of the brightest figure in my life.

I lurched forward, day to day, just barely meeting what my family and my instructors expected of me.

I’m sorry, Senpai. You were wrong about me.

I was nothing without Senpai, after all.

I wouldn’t pick up a camera again after all that. What use was there when any semblance of ability I had with it was tied to the existence of someone who no longer was?

I’d already forgotten her face, but the one thing I tried to swear was that I wouldn’t forget her smile and her voice.

***

The following day, I woke up ahead of Jougasaki.

6:30am.

A rain shower wet the ground outside, while a distant sun shone its graceful bright yellow across the streets and Tokyo architecture.

Jougasaki slept soundly beside his beloved Ami-chan, and I had no intention of waking him now.

I retrieved the incense from his bag and packed it into my own.

I would visit the konbini later and pack whatever I needed for the day. I’m not sure when I would get a breakthrough or what would happen to me.

I only have today and half of tomorrow left.

I clenched my fist and closed my eyes, deep in thought.

I recalled Senpai’s voice as I ran my hand across the incense pot.

“I’m counting on you guys.”

If that was really you cheering me on, then I’ll take it. I don’t know why I heard you, and if that was you in the first place, but…

I know what I have to do.