Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 58: Japan Branch (6)

Dragon Raja 3

“You learned to speak from a cat?” Akira found the whole thing absurd.

“Yes!” Maru nodded vigorously. “I learned to speak from Koneko. It always spoke softly, not like my parents who yelled and argued. Koneko told me about the mountain spirits: cat spirits, tanuki spirits, and fox spirits.”

Akira thought, if that were true, the mountain must only have cat, fox, and tanuki spirits. Could it be that the tanuki spirits were born from the union of the cat and fox spirits? He found the girl amusing, oblivious to the way his gaze clung to her delicate body while she continued talking about her cat. He adjusted the black travel bag beside him, on the side of which there was a small mirror. Through the mirror, he admired the scenery under Maru’s school skirt. Though he couldn’t really see anything, imagining his hand resting on her stocking-covered leg was enough to make him lose composure.

“Eventually, my secret with Koneko was discovered by my dad. One day, when he came home from work, I was holding Koneko’s paw, and we were meowing back and forth. Koneko could only meow, but by then I had learned how to say its name in Japanese,” Maru said. “The first Japanese word I learned was Koneko’s name. I learned to speak from a cat spirit. So if I accidentally meow while talking, please forgive me, senpai.”

Akira thought this might be another kind of “chuunibyou” (adolescent delusion). But unlike the flashy types obsessed with being “The Ruler of Black Flame” or possessing “The True Eyes of the Dark Lord” from anime, Maru had a fairy-tale delusion from decades ago, imagining herself as a princess raised by cat spirits deep in the mountains—a Miyazaki Hayao fanatic.

“How did Koneko die?” Akira asked casually, just wanting to keep talking to Maru.

“Because all things that love each other will eventually be separated,” Maru said earnestly.

Akira paused, suddenly thinking of Nami… people who love each other? Did he ever have anyone who loved him in his life? Including Nami, he had killed sixteen women. His relationships with those women had only been about a night of wild passion; he didn’t even know some of their names. He realized his life had been lacking something. Although he had enjoyed many beautiful women, he had never experienced love. Without knowing someone’s name, how could it be called love? There was no understanding—just desire and impulse. The only exception was Nami. Akira had spent many years fantasizing about being in love with his teacher. Nami was indeed a good teacher—sometimes she would get so angry that she scolded him harshly, but afterward, she would take him to the teacher’s office, patiently encouraging him in the light of the setting sun, gently patting his head. After he graduated and became a janitor, Nami was the first to greet him voluntarily, even bringing him a lunchbox as a gift on his first day of work. Inside was perfectly steamed egg custard and plum rice.

But he killed Nami and buried her under a cherry tree.

“Cats can only live for about fifteen years. Though cat spirits can live for a long, long time, once they leave the mountains, they only have an ordinary cat’s lifespan. Koneko came out of the mountains to save me. I met him when I was three, and when I turned eighteen, he left.” Maru’s face showed nothing but sadness. “That day was also a winter day. When I woke up in the morning, I found Koneko lying under the kotatsu, not moving. I thought it was just too cold, and he didn’t want to come out, so I went to pet his head. But he rested his head in my palm and meowed once. I understood he was saying goodbye to me. By the afternoon, he was gone. I placed an open can of cat food in front of him, but he didn’t lift his head to sniff it. Gradually, slowly, his body turned cold.” Maru leaned forward, her hands on her knees, her head bowed. Akira couldn’t see her face, but he could see tears falling drop by drop onto her skirt.

Her shoulders shook slightly, appearing fragile and pitiful, but all Akira could think of was the scene of the prey trembling naked in his arms. His eyes were red with excitement, and he suppressed a roar in his throat.

“I’m sorry, Senpai, I started crying again while talking!” Maru wiped away her tears vigorously and raised her head with a bright smile. “Actually, Koneko left to return to the mountains as a cat spirit, so why should I cry?”

Akira didn’t like her smile at all—stupidly bright yet tinged with sadness. It made him feel sad too. He wanted Maru to smile charmingly, maybe even flirtatiously, and preferably with a few seductive moves.

“So I’m going to bury Koneko’s ashes in Otaru. That way, I won’t cry every time I see Koneko’s urn. Koneko definitely wouldn’t like it if I kept crying after it was gone,” Maru said. “It taught me to talk to people, so it probably wouldn’t want me to go back to how I used to be, right?”

Akira was startled. He suddenly realized that he had let himself get involved in Maru’s story, which was why he asked such a question. Although he was admiring Maru’s body and resisting his impulses the entire time she spoke, scenes of her with Koneko began to unfold in his mind: in the morning light, Koneko holding Maru’s shoe at the door, meowing; in the sunset, Maru sitting on the roof, Koneko perched on her head, meowing; late at night, Koneko curled up on Maru’s stomach, meowing in its sleep… it was like an artsy, vague film.

But why was he doing something so pointless? Especially with a girl who had autism and still carried some of its aftereffects. What she was saying was purely her imagination, and what he cared about was her body under that uniform. Talking about life, discussing the past—like a prostitute and a client discussing love, or a politician preaching ideals to the public.

“Maru, you have such a healthy and beautiful figure! Those legs are really something! You must be in the athletics club at school, right?” Akira switched the topic.

“Yes! I’m in the rhythmic gymnastics club, and also a cheerleader for the basketball team!” Maru nodded vigorously.

“Ah, I love cheerleading performances the most! Regular exercise really does improve your figure and make your skin smoother!” This kind of topic made Akira much happier, and his gaze roamed over Maru’s body, like a snake flicking its tongue over its prey. He felt that he had gotten close enough to Maru and that she had let her guard down—it was time to strike. After all, it was strange that such easy prey hadn’t attracted the attention of some upperclassman before.

“Why is it getting hotter and hotter in this train car? Maru, aren’t you feeling hot wearing those stockings?” Akira commented. Indeed, the temperature in the car was rising, with warm air still blowing from the vents.

“Yes, it’s really hot. When we first got on, wearing stockings felt just right,” Maru said. “Maybe the conductor was worried about everyone catching a cold.”

“Would you like to go to the washroom and take off the stockings? This heat isn’t good for your body, and if you’re worried about your luggage, I can stand outside and hold it for you.” Akira was ready to make his move. The washroom was the most suitable place to strike on a train. With a simple push from behind, he could follow her in, lock the door, gag her, and do whatever he wanted.

“Wouldn’t that be too much trouble for you, Senpai?” Maru hesitated.

“It’s just holding your luggage—how could that be trouble?” The snake in Akira’s heart flicked its tongue.

“Attention, passengers, attention, passengers. This is an emergency announcement. Due to a short circuit in the control system, the air conditioning in car number eight has malfunctioned, causing the temperature to rise significantly. Repairs are needed, and all passengers are asked to take their belongings and move to the VIP car for rest. As an apology, we have prepared complimentary afternoon tea for you in the VIP car,” the conductor announced over the speaker.