The Death of "Ayasa"

“What happened to you?”

Ayasa was on the roof of the main school building. It was a good thing I had seen her from the hallway- she still didn’t have a cell phone of any kind. I had rushed over without thinking. Kanamaru’s “soccer practice” on me hadn’t left any injury - or rather, any visible injury. I was probably bruised near my stomach. I didn’t think I’d look too disheveled, but Ayasa was able to tell immediately.

“Oh. Uh. I stumbled on a desk back in class.”

There wasn’t any need to concern Ayasa with the details. It may not have been her first day in class, but she was still going through a difficult adjustment.

“It…looks a lot more serious than that.”

“I’m fine. Just a bump, that’s all.”

Ayasa squinted, just a little bit. She didn’t believe me.

“Oh. Well… I hope you feel better?”

“Thanks.”

I couldn’t understand why she had phrased that as a question. Ayasa turned around and leaned on the railing, staring off towards the North. A thick, muggy smog had engulfed the land beyond the wall. It was difficult to see anything distinct beyond the funnels belching smoke.

“Stay away from the 4th year named Junichi Kanamaru. And his goons, Ootake and Hosoya.”

“Who?”

“You’ve met them already. The three guys who were with us on that night.”

“The scummy looking ones? They’re students here?”

“Yeah.”

Ayasa tilted her head back towards me, slightly. Only her eyes were visible, searching me for meaning in this sudden warning.

“Are they dangerous?”

“...I don’t think so. Not right now. But…”

Ayasa seemed to grasp the meaning.

“Better to stay away from them. Got it.”

Her gaze returned to the North. She didn’t say anything else. I didn’t, either. I had said what I had come to say. Yet, the conversation felt incomplete. Was I just supposed to walk away now?

“Are you doing okay?”

Ayasa didn’t turn around to face me this time. I thought for a second that maybe she didn’t hear me asking, but eventually she mumbled something out.

“I’m doing fine.”

“Are you fitting in with your new class?”

“I’m not causing any trouble.”

“No- I mean, that’s good, but…”

“But?”

“Are you making friends?”

“No.”

I couldn’t help twisting my face into a look of concern. Ayasa couldn’t see it, anyway.

“Oh. Are you, uh, talking to anyone?”

“No. It’s too soon.”

“Too soon?”

“They’ll know. You and Saijou and your friend Shinji all figured it out the first time I talked to them. I still am not good at talking the way you do.”

That wasn’t really true, at least in the way I saw it. Ayasa had picked up on Southern slang remarkably fast, and her speech wasn’t anywhere near as stilted as it had been a few days ago. If you compared her to the few students at the school who had come from Kansai or further South, her Tokyo accent was much more refined, even if it was a little rough around the edges. She struggled with some slang still- and there was always the impact of her blunt attitude, but on the whole she had adopted the role of Southern high schooler with lightning speed.

“Ayasa, -”

It had slipped out of me. I wasn’t supposed to call her that. Not just because we didn’t have that kind of relationship, but also because she was-

“It’s Sayu now. Remember?”

Of course I did. I had given her that name. It was the perfect name for the role she now played - high school returnee from West Germany (it was the best way to explain away her strange accent and unusual manners) and new darling of class 1-B: Sayu Midorikawa, age 17.

“It feels kind of weird to say that when it’s just us.”

“Why?”

“Because I already know it’s just a fake identity.”

Ayasa’s lean over the railing sank a bit lower. You might almost think she’d fallen asleep on it. She still wasn’t turning around.

“And you’d rather talk to Ayasa, is that it?”

I was a little surprised at her reaction. Why get so defensive over a fake name?

“Well, I don’t really know you that well, Higashiyama. We’ve been through a lot, but I feel like I never really asked you about yourself.”

Ayasa began to wobble her foot back and forth on her toes. I still couldn’t see much beyond that. Her hair blocked any vestiges of her expression, even though it had now been cut to only neck length and given a subtle wave. It wasn’t strictly the kind of haircut Sayu Midorikawa would prefer, but it wasn’t the kind she would definitely not wear, either. A necessary choice to prevent her from being spotted this close to home.

“Oh. You seem to know a lot about Sayu, though.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“She’s fictional.”

“And yet, she’s standing before you.”

Well, slumping over a railing, really.

“I mean, she was fictional. It’s easy to know what she is because none of it matters. She can be anything I want her to be. If I say she likes Soba, she likes Soba. If I say she hates math quizzes, she hates math quizzes. All of it can be changed. None of it matters.”

“Ah.”

Ayasa pushed herself back up to a standing position.

“So, that’s it, then.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t think Sayu matters.”

“Huh? No, I mean, it’s important for you to conceal-”

“Let me be Sayu, then.”

“But-”

“It’s going to be a lot harder if I have to be Ayasa.”

She said it with only a tinge of bitterness, but there was an unassuming gravity to those words. I couldn’t help but press her further.

“Why harder?”

“Why? Because Ayasa isn’t supposed to be here.”

“In the South?”

“Yes. No. No, it’s more than that.”

“How much more?”

“More than you need to worry about, Nishizawa.”

“I can take it.”

Ayasa finally turned around. I had expected tears, or pain- like the face she made that day in the Karaoke booth. I got nothing. Just a blank stare, slowly scanning me from head to toe. At last, Ayasa turned back towards the North and let out a heavy sigh.

“It’s not a question of what you can take, Nishizawa. I don’t have anything to give you.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just what I said. Ayasa Higashiyama can’t tell you anything about herself that you don’t already know.”

Ok, that was bullshit. There had to be more to Ayasa than what I knew. What did I know? 

She was a high school student from the North who snuck away from home sometimes to go to underground discos to listen to illegal Southern music. She knew what a burger was but not enough to tell you what kind of burger it was from the ingredients. She was bad at cart-racing games and good at shooters. Was that really it?

“You were a student over there, weren’t you?”

“Yeah. You already knew that.”

“What did you do at school?”

“I studied.”

“Studied what? Which subjects were you good at?”

“Science and Political History.”

“Were you on a sports team?”

“I ranked in the Target Rifle club. Other than that, no.”

“Any other extracurriculars?”

“Treasurer for the student soviet.”

“The- the what?”

“I guess you’d call it a student council down here. Are you done interrogating me?”

“No.”

“You should be.”

There was almost an annoyance to Ayasa’s voice now, like I was looking inside a closet she didn’t want me to see- not because there was anything hidden in there, but just because it was a bit of a mess.

“Who were your friends there?”

“Ayasa wasn’t the kind of person who made friends.”

“You must have talked with someone.”

“I really didn’t. Not in any way that mattered.”

“Not even to talk about homework, or how annoying the teacher was, or-”

“No. None of that.”

Ayasa looked down. She was wobbling her foot about her toe again. Then, she spoke up again.

“There was a girl named Manaka. Sometimes, we’d talk about classic literature homework. There was another girl named Erisabe.”

I tried to piece together in my head how someone could end up with a name like Erisabe. Ayasa must have sensed this as she continued.

“It’s supposed to be Elisaveta. Her father’s a Russian. It was a little hard to say so everyone just called her that. She was on the rifle team. We…hung out. Sometimes.”

So, Ayasa did have friends after all.

“What are your dreams for the future, then?”

I was on a streak with all the grade school writing prompts. I might as well finish it.

“Ayasa doesn’t have dreams for the future.”

“Impossible.”

“Ayasa isn’t in a position to have dreams for the future. Do you like that better?”

No, I didn’t like it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“This is what I was talking about. Ayasa doesn’t belong here. That’s why it’s easier to be Sayu. Sayu’s allowed to have those things.”

“Why isn’t Ayasa allowed to have them, too?”

I couldn’t tell if that was the right or wrong question to ask. Ayasa tried to keep up her blank, emotionless stare, but now even that was failing her as she let the sides of her mouth slip into a slight grimace.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“That’s why I was asking for Ayasa. I wanted to understand that.”

“I can’t explain it to you. I don’t know how. If you ever live in the North for a long time, you’ll get it. As long as you’re a Southerner, you won’t.”

“I can try.”

Ayasa covered her face with her hand.

“Hey, Nishizawa.”

“Yeah.”

“Can you do me a favor?”

She seemed so sincere in the way she asked it.

“Yeah?”

“Just let me be Sayu. She was your idea, anyway. Stop asking about Ayasa.”

“But-”

“Please.”

“It’s not-”

“Ayasa doesn’t exist any more. She doesn’t need to exist.”

“...Okay.”

As soon as I agreed, Ayasa removed the hand covering her face- revealing the beaming smile of Sayu Midorikawa. It was perfect. The coy grin, the slight squint in the sunlight- all of it exactly as I had imagined in all those lazy afternoons slacking off in 6th period.

“Well, I should get going. See you around, Nishizawa?”

Sayu bounced off toward the staircase.

It was terrifying.