Chapter 6 — I’m Not That Innocent
May 5th, Tuesday. Clear skies.
It was the second May 5th since I had given away part of my lifespan.
On that day, Ichinose attempted suicide for the sixteenth time.
This time, she tried jumping from the usual bridge.
The “usual bridge” was the place where I first met the Grim Reaper, and also where she had attempted suicide for the very first time. Despite being a large bridge, it didn’t seem to have an official name, so calling it the usual bridge was the only way to refer to it.
Ichinose’s suicide attempts were always one of two things: jumping from the bridge or throwing herself in front of a train. More often than not, she chose the bridge, and by now I knew exactly where she would come from.
When I waved at her as if we had arranged to meet before the bridge, Ichinose made an openly displeased face but still greeted me.
“Hello.”
“Today,” I said, “I’m going to teach you how wonderful it is to be alive.”
“I see. Goodbye.”
“Wait, wait.”
I grabbed her arm to stop her from walking away.
“You don’t want to go home today either, right?”
“…Well, that’s true.”
“Then come with me and think of it as killing time. If you don’t come—”
“You’re going to say you’ll carry me princess-style again, aren’t you?”
Ichinose sighed as if she had already given up.
So this was what people meant by being on the same wavelength.
…Probably not.
We walked from the bridge toward our destination.
Ichinose followed slightly behind me. At first I thought it was because I was walking too fast, but it seemed she simply wanted to hide behind me.
“We’re here,” I said. “This is the place for today.”
“…This is a movie theater.”
Today’s plan for killing time was the cinema.
“If we watch a movie where someone dies, maybe you’ll realize how wonderful it is to be alive.”
I made that statement, even though it didn’t really mean anything. I had just said it off the top of my head like usual.
After spending my middle and high school years isolated from others, my conversation repertoire was pretty limited. I chose the movie theater because it easily created a shared topic to talk about.
“That makes sense,” she said flatly. “But that will absolutely never happen.”
Ignoring her blunt denial, I grabbed her hand and dragged her inside.
“I don’t have any money,” she said.
“Don’t worry. I’m paying again today.”
“If you treat someone who’s about to die, you’re just wasting money.”
“If you’re about to die anyway, there’s no reason to hold back.”
Inside the theater, the dim lobby was lined with ticket counters, merchandise stands, and snack bars. A large screen above played movie trailers.
I’d been to this theater many times before, but today it was more crowded than usual.
I wondered why it was so packed on a weekday, but the answer came quickly.
It was Children’s Day.
Ever since obtaining the silver pocket watch, I’d been living just enough to keep track of the days of the week. I hadn’t even realized we had already entered Golden Week.
This was the only movie theater nearby, and there was a shopping mall right next to it. During Golden Week, families with children and groups of students gathering here was inevitable.
For someone like me who hated crowds—and for Ichinose, who was conscious of the eyes of people our age—it wasn’t the most comfortable situation.
Still…
Attempting suicide on Children’s Day.
I glanced at Ichinose beside me. She looked innocent at first glance.
Noticing my gaze, she tilted her head slightly as if to say, What?
Sighing at her complete indifference to the concern I was showing, she puffed her cheeks and said,
“If you have something to say, just say it!”
Read the room.
“I said we’d watch a movie where someone dies,” I told her, “but if there’s something you want to see, that’s fine too.”
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t know what’s showing.”
“…I wish you’d take interest in something other than suicide.”
I forced a wry smile.
“Please don’t give me impossible requests,” she replied.
There was a crowd gathered in front of the poster showing the screening schedule. I grabbed a pamphlet listing the showtimes and stepped outside to escape the crowd.
Then I had Ichinose pick a movie.
The first thing I suggested was a romance movie I’d seen advertised on TV a lot.
The lead actor was a handsome guy, and I figured girls tended to like romance movies. It was a shallow assumption. Apparently the story involved a terminal illness, so it was obvious that the boyfriend would die.
I thought that would settle it.
But Ichinose’s reaction was lukewarm.
“Hmm… I don’t really understand love, so I’m not sure.”
It felt a little strange hearing that from a girl who could easily have a boyfriend if she went to school regularly. But at the same time, it did feel like something she’d say.
Next, I suggested a realistic war movie.
Not just a movie where people die—a movie where people die constantly.
I imagined Ichinose watching it and saying:
We should be grateful we were born in a time without war. I’ll stop trying to kill myself.
…No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t picture that happening.
Ichinose frowned.
“I’m not very good with blood…”
Coming from someone who tried to kill herself all the time!
I almost snapped back, but barely held it in.
The third movie I suggested was a strange one.
It was about a rhinoceros beetle that wanted to spend Christmas with its owner, a little girl.
Since rhinoceros beetles are summer insects, surviving until Christmas is nearly impossible. It seemed to be a story about the fragility of life.
Maybe this one would—
“I don’t like bugs, so that’s impossible. Please pick something else.”
The beetle movie was rejected instantly.
So fleeting.
Next was a horror movie with ghosts.
Rather than people dying, it was more like people who were already dead.
Honestly, I just wanted to see Ichinose get scared.
“Wouldn’t this kind of movie make you feel alive instead?” I said.
“It looks kind of scary…”
“You afraid of ghosts?”
“If I know they’re fake, I’m fine.”
“Then it’s fine.”
“But… if a real ghost appeared in the film, I might not be able to tell…”
“That doesn’t count as being fine. That’s a serious problem.”
After that I suggested a magical-girl anime meant for little kids and got yelled at.
“Stop treating me like a child!”
None of the movies seemed to impress her.
In the end, we chose the very first romance movie I had suggested—simply because it seemed “safe.”
After buying the tickets, I walked back toward Ichinose, who was waiting in the middle of the lobby.
On the way, I overheard a group of high school boys whispering while pointing at her.
“Isn’t that girl cute?”
“Go talk to her, man.”
The person in question was completely unaware, watching the trailer screen.
While waiting for the movie to start, a sweet smell drifted from the snack stand.
Caramel popcorn, probably.
Ichinose was staring toward the stand, clearly drawn by the smell.
“Want something to eat?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” she said politely.
But she was staring enviously at a little kid holding a churro.
So I got in line.
I bought churros and popcorn and handed them to her.
At first she stubbornly refused, but when I lied and said,
“I got them for free because I’m a member. I don’t want them.”
She smiled a little and said,
“Well… if that’s the case.”
Watching Ichinose eat the churro with both hands reminded me of a squirrel or some other small animal.
By the time she finished it, it was the perfect time for the movie.
We entered the theater and sat down.
When the lights dimmed and trailers started playing, a horror preview appeared. Ichinose beside me squeezed her eyes shut tightly.
The movie itself was a classic terminal-illness romance story.
A high school girl and her boyfriend, who has only six months left to live, overcome various hardships together. In the end, the girl vows to live on for both of them.
Honestly, the entire plot was predictable from beginning to end. I didn’t cry at all.
Instead, I was more impressed by the combination of eating salty popcorn and caramel popcorn alternately.
But near the end, I could hear sniffles coming from all around the theater.
Apparently I was in the minority.
Even Ichinose—who claimed she didn’t understand love—was quietly crying by the end.
Incidentally, during the kiss scene she fidgeted awkwardly and covered her face with her hands.
“So,” I asked after the movie ended, “did it make you think life is wonderful?”
Ichinose wiped her tears with a handkerchief.
“…Just a little.”
“That’s good. Then maybe you’ll stop trying to kill yourself—”
“I won’t.”
Instant answer.
“So even a movie doesn’t change your mind.”
“Of course not.”
“I’m not saying life has to be like the movies, but I wish you’d cling to life a little more.”
She looked annoyed.
“Reality and movies are different. That story works because it ends there.”
I hadn’t expected that kind of answer.
I thought she’d just say something like ‘Impossible’ and brush it off.
Then she added quietly,
“Besides… unlike in the movie, there’s no one cheering for me to live.”
“What are you talking about? I’m right here,” I said.
“I want you to live. I’d be sad if you died.”
Ichinose looked flustered.
“Please don’t say things that make it hard to respond.”
“That’s a problem. You should be crying with joy.”
“I’m not innocent enough to be happy over a lie.”
“Then where did the innocence that made you cry earlier go?”
After exchanging impressions about the movie, we parted ways.
“Get home safely,” I said.
“I’ll go home unsafely,” she replied.
The usual exchange.
After we separated, I finally understood what she meant earlier.
She must have been overlapping herself with the movie’s heroine.
Her father had died of illness.
Just like the heroine lost her boyfriend.
For someone like Ichinose—who lost her father and then her place at home after her mother remarried—the future after losing someone important would only look dark.
That must be what she believed the real ending looked like.
And honestly…
It was hard to believe a bright future would come just because someone decided to move forward.
Would that heroine ever be able to enjoy love again?
Would she ever meet someone more important than the one she lost?
Would she avoid feeling jealous of people who had never lost their lovers?
The only image that came to mind was someone struggling through life.
Ichinose had seen it firsthand.
Her father died.
Her friends bullied her.
Her mother began pretending not to see.
Having watched someone change after losing someone important, it made sense she would imagine that kind of ending.
If the boyfriend who died ended up happier…
Then it almost resembled the relationship between Ichinose and me.
I was the one planning to die, while forcing Ichinose—who was clearly struggling—to stay alive.
It wasn’t the ending she imagined that I wanted.
But if things stayed the way they were, that’s exactly what it would become.
At the very least, before I die…
I want to solve the problems Ichinose is carrying.
Thinking about that, I looked up at the crimson evening sky on my way home.
