I Am in Your Walls

I lie on the cell bed patiently counting the seconds that turn into minutes that turn hours after lights out. I’ve gotten awfully good at that the past couple of years. I let a few hours go by before making my move, starting with creating a decoy by stuffing all the English textbooks I’ve been bringing back into my cell under my bed sheets in a vaguely humanoid shape. I don’t know how much time that’ll buy me, but I’ll take whatever I can get.

I take a deep breath with a throbbing heart and turn to the back wall of my cell, pressing two sweaty palms to it. Aligning my toes pointedly against the wall, I lean forward and rest my forehead against the cold concrete. I’m actually doing this… Is this the right decision? What if I get caught?

Even after all this practice, I’m still stalling for time. Steady breaths, keep them light. With a single sharp inhale to fill the entirety of my lungs, I deatomize myself and begin forcing myself through the concrete wall. I can feel the collision of every single atomic particle between my body and the ungiving wall, like trillions of tiny needles of entropy frantically bouncing around countless times a second all throughout my entire being.

One…

Two…

Emerging on the other side, I suspend Restless Spirit for a moment to let it recharge. I turn to look at the wall I just phased through, pressing a hand against it. I did it. But why do I want to go back? This feels wrong. It’s not too late to just phase back and pretend I never tried this stupid escape plan. Fuck.

No, this kind of thinking won’t get me anywhere. I’ve already made the plans. Shake away the doubts and keep moving. One leg forward. Then the next. Looking down both ways of the hall, I take a left towards the recreational center and verify my position within the institution at the planned starting point.

From what I’ve learnt from the other inmates, the small checkpoint behind my cell that separates the cafeteria and the recreational center is a blind spot for surveillance cameras due to a lapse in construction and planning. Thanks to how the surveillance camera was installed in the hall when the prison was first constructed, the later installed door obstructs everything on the other side of the hall from the camera.

I pace down the hall, counting my steps until I reach the end, careful not to enter the line of sight of any other cameras around the corner. I straighten my posture and align myself once more with the designated location. Closing my eyes, I prepare myself for blind navigation as I sink my body into the walls of this cruel labyrinth. With steady steps, I use the walls of the prison as cover from the surveillance cameras.

One…

Two…

Seventy-four steps to the left, then turn ninety degrees clockwise…

Continue sidestepping to the left for another hundred and twenty-eight steps past the recreational center…

I follow my predetermined path, tracing along the walls, carefully tracking my steps so as to not accidentally pop out as the daggers of resistance from the wall remind me of the time ticking down on my Restless Spirit.

My body begins to strain by the time I reach the warden’s quarter as my mind tenses and panics. My heavy heart beats rhythmically to the beat of my feet as I step. By my estimates, I can sustain Restless Spirit for about another eight to ten seconds, and while it’ll likely be enough to get past the warden’s quarter, it won’t be enough to get me through the prison yard. I suppose that leaves me with no choice. I mentally brace myself and emerge into the warden’s quarter, one of the few rooms in the institution without camera surveillance.

My bare feet press against the cold floor as the normal force of the floor pushes back against me. I begin catching my breath and let my Restless Spirit… rest. Huh, maybe I should’ve chosen a better name. My chest expands and shrinks as I take in breaths, the warden sleeping mere meters away from where I stand. It’s a nice room, though probably not as nice as it could be in a house. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but even asleep, he looks cautious and wary of my presence. It’s always got something to do with my presence. I shouldn’t overstay my welcome.

With a gulp, I close my eyes and make sure to stay as still as possible. My fingers tingle as I press my back against the wall, making each and every minute movement deliberate. Returning back into my painful cover, I count down my seconds and continue along my path towards the prison yard.

Seven…

Six…

Thirty-eight steps to the right…

Turn ninety degrees counterclockwise

Five…

Four…

Three…

Fifty-four steps more to the right…

Two…

One…

I grit my teeth as I count back down to zero, refusing to let mere numbers limit my resolve. My mind feels faint, and it’s like I could just disappear from existence and merge into one bloody mess with the wall. The wall can only push back so hard. It doesn’t have to try. It doesn’t have physical or mental barriers to overcome. It only exists to push back against me, and no harder than any previous walls did. It has no driving resolve or personal motive of its own, yet it does not let up as though it were the uncaring universe itself pushing against me. I continue to push, the object collision thrashing about every molecule of my body. My Restless Spirit will not give to such a simple obstacle.

My body sways with a limpness as I advance and shift around my center of gravity. I fling myself towards the end of it all as the yard’s walls eject me from its cubical atomic structure. Restless Spirit releases as I collapse out onto the floor, panting for air on the outside of the prison walls. I did it… I’m out…

My eyes drift up to the surveillance cameras at the top of the wall, scrutinizingly pointed towards the inside of the yard. To think that the thick concrete walls stacked with such reinforced security to ensure the inmates could not break out would be my greatest ally and worst enemy in the escape at the same time. Resting an arm on my forehead, I stare up at the night sky in longing appreciation. The light pollution of the Osaka nightlife drowns out the stars, but the Moon is lovely tonight. It offers a single shining light of guidance in a vast empty sky, bringing me one step closer to my Hikari.

I pick myself up off the ground and look past the roads into the city and the long path I have before me. I need to find a comfortable place to throw my exhausted body onto for the night before I collapse again for good. With determined steps, I start my trek northwards bound for the commercial districts of Osaka.

Passing by a Bitley's, I enter the convenience store, exchanging looks with the young-looking clerk working behind the counter. He shoots me a strange stare not too different from most others when they see my pale complexion, though he glances up and down at my outfit as well. I make a note not to incriminate myself with excuses and try to press him down with some direct confrontation.

I speak directly to him in English. “What? Never seen a lost foreigner before?”

The young man looks even more confused now, trying to speak back in broken English. “S-sorry. I, uh… I–”

I grab a set of clothes, some makeup, and a toothbrush kit, bringing it to the cashier, and he simply scans them without commenting any further. I don’t think I convinced him that I’m a foreigner, but he should be so confused that he can’t be sure what I am now. As he scans my items, I position myself so that my body obstructs the surveillance camera in the corner and the cash register obstructs the cashier’s periphery, phasing my hand through the cash register and taking some bills from it without the man’s notice.

After changing into a fresh new shirt, some socks, and a pair of slippers, I continue back towards Umeda until I manage to find a random crappy motel to spend the night in. Waking up when morning comes, I take a shower and try putting on makeup for the first time. Putting on the foundation alone seems to give my skin more life, though I struggle to even out blotches and make it look natural. Perhaps I won’t need to go as far as acquiring a clown costume after all.

I phase out of the motel room before they discover they had a surprise guest and navigate my way to the nearest internet cafe. Entering the first one I find, I book for as much time as I could with the remaining cash I had from the convenience store, which managed to net me a total of six hours. After I shake off a gross sense of deja vu while entering my cubicle, I begin conducting research for Hikari’s performance venue and ships or flights out to any English-speaking country.

After around an hour or so of name searching and checking local underground music venues, I fail to come up with anything useful, so I instead broaden my search to nearby music events. After a few more hours of searching, I managed to find a venue featuring a Masuda Hikari… Ah, right… Of course, her surname’s been changed after they took her in. I should’ve known that.

The performance is dated for tomorrow night at 8:00. I make a note on a piece of paper so as to not forget this time and try to search for planes that I could stow away on, though the thought of actually seeing her again distracts me. The nerves cause sweat to surface on my hands, yet my face holds a soft smile. Despite being a grown man, I want to get up and jog in a circle while shaking my arms. It’s hard to contain myself, and my heart skips along with me.

What am I going to say? Will I even have a chance to talk to her? Is she even going to recognize me? I’ll probably be able to catch her outside of the concert… “Hey, Hikari. It’s been a while…” No, no. I’ll wipe off my makeup and show up behind her suddenly, maybe using Restless Spirit to phase through a wall, and as she turns around in surprise, I’ll say, “Look who’s back?” I can’t believe I’m giggling all alone at the thought in a net cafe cubicle.

I take a deep breath and settle down, the fleeting joy distilled from the prospect of reuniting with Hikari melts away as quickly as the seeds of a dandelion flower fly in a hurricane of emotions. I’m still a wanted man, and the reunion would surely be temporary. I’ll have to flee the country and start a new life elsewhere in a few days… Unless… Unless I can prove my innocence!

All I’ll have to do is find out the actual murderer on that night. Not even that. I simply have to prove that it couldn’t have been me who killed the new recruit that night. If I can just prove that, then I’ll be able to permanently reunite with Hikari.

Who in the company was most likely to commit a murder at that time… After I spend the rest of my time at the internet cafe researching the company to verify their addresses and some names, particularly those who were at the izakaya that night, I wait for nightfall and set out to haunt some sites of unfinished business.