What is memory? Why do people live bearing this imperfect thing called memory?
Some say it is for survival. They claim that by remembering one’s condition, the brain recognizes the state of being “healthy,” and distinguishes when that is not the case in order to cope. Beyond this as well, the connection between survival and memory was incredibly deep.
Others say that memory is everything that makes up a person. They claim that values and ethics one must possess as a human being, built up slowly since childhood, and the traces of one’s life are all dissolved into memory.
Neither claim was wrong.
If one cannot remember what is dangerous and what is not, the risk of death rises from confusion; if one loses all memory, it is virtually no different from losing oneself. Both claims could be called extremely reasonable. There was no need to strictly divide which was the correct theory.
Thus, memory has always been an excellent weapon and a means of survival for humanity, a shield that protects the self. For well over thousands of years, memory has instilled trust in humans.
And that became the root of disaster.
“…….”
Originally, people do not doubt their own memories.
Memory is something acquired and realized through one’s own experiences. Doubting it was little different from doubting oneself.
It was rather far from self-reflection. After all, reflection was but a task accomplished through memory. People could not easily conceive that the memory itself might be wrong.
Thus, while forgetting something was possible, fabricating something that never happened and believing it to be real—such madness was absolutely impossible barring mental illness.
Because humans instinctively possessed the trait of repeating only what they had learned through memory. There was nothing to learn from falsehood but falsehood itself. Just as one does not become a murderer by killing in one’s imagination, humans could only form their present selves solely through memories of reality.
Ian was no different. Born an orphan, he spent an ordinary school life. A run-of-the-mill life running around to earn money upon becoming an adult. True, his whole life had changed after picking up a grimoire, but what he knew as his own life was, nonetheless, just that.
But now, impurities had infiltrated those memories.
—Ian! I told you to eat breakfast before you go! And tie your tie properly!
The nagging of a being whose face he could not even recognize, only perceivable as “Mother,” shouted every morning.
—Ugh, Oppa! Let me borrow some clothes! I’ll wash them and give them back, okay?
The irritated whining of a nonexistent younger sister.
—Have a good day.
—Woof!
The voice of a “Father” perceived as strangely resembling him, and the cry of a puppy they raised.
Memories he had never actually experienced and would never experience, all alike, swirled through his mind like impurities.
Going to a restaurant together on Mother’s birthday.
The day they moved because Father’s business hit it big.
The face of his younger sister bursting into a smile while hugging the puppy when they first brought it home, and so on.
Exquisitely detailed memories, vivid enough to recall one by one right this moment, filled his head.
As stated, memory is the most fundamental foundation forming the basis of a person. That it was being contaminated in real-time was by no means a good sign.
*A mental attack? No, no. If it were a mental attack, there’s no way I would have fallen for it.*
First period class.
A man who looked exactly like the corpse Seoah had purchased stood at the lectern teaching mathematics. Ian glared at him while calmly organizing his thoughts. Seoah, sitting beside him, was also looking down at her desk and continuously muttering something.
“……My parents died when I was young. They got dead drunk and drove straight into a utility pole and died. My grandmother raised me, but I left home because she forced me to become a shaman. There’s no way my parents could still be alive.”
Recollection.
Distinguishing truth and falsehood in one’s mind to protect oneself. Reinforcing the barrier so that memory is not defiled by mystery.
It was no easy task. Memory has no boundaries, and the past is an abstract existence that can always only be recalled, not observed. Distinguishing the truth and falsehood of memories that had crawled into his mind was an extremely difficult task.
Seeing that Seoah was even breaking out in a cold sweat, she seemed to be suffering from mental confusion; if so, it must be nearly impossible for an ordinary person to distinguish them.
But Seoah did it.
It was thanks to her possessing a far stronger mental barrier than ordinary people, thanks to her being a mage, thanks to her outstanding memory, and, coincidentally, thanks to her being an orphan without parents.
It was obvious, of course: orphans have no parents. Therefore, for both Ian and Seoah, it was possible to catch the errors in memory simply by sifting out memories in which parents appeared.
If any other memory felt slightly off and belonged to the type where parents appeared, they could boldly cut it out.
*Thank god I’m an orphan.*
Ian crossed his arms as he stared at the drooling teacher.
*The forced injection of memories will worsen as time passes.*
Ironically, the attack currently penetrating his mind was not of the mental type. It was closer to a one-sided injection.
It didn’t drive people mad; it confused them. That was probably why mental barriers didn’t work properly, either.
He hadn’t known there was a Mystery that attacked in this manner. It was truly disgusting. He felt he wouldn’t be at ease until he found the main body and killed it somehow.
He would have to kill it to get out of here anyway. Or perhaps it wouldn’t be bad to wait until school dismissal time. If this place was a spatial type, there would eventually be rules for escape.
*……For now, it’s probably correct to think that everyone except me and Seoah are monsters.*
Ian loosened the tie choking his neck slightly as he stared at the teacher who was in a corpse state.
A corpse with all its organs extracted and its abdomen splayed wide obviously held not a single sign of life.
Its skin was pale, and the sockets where eyeballs should have been held only dense emptiness. Yet no one harbored fear or doubt toward him.
Some students tapped their lips with pens, concentrating on the lesson.
Some students fooled around amongst themselves, and some secretly tapped on their phones under their desks.
The classroom looked utterly ordinary. That made it all the more alien.
Had blood been flying everywhere and corpses filled the room, his mind would have been more at ease than now.
A sense of dissonance.
The dissonance of something utterly unordinary within an ordinary place wrapped around his entire body.
“Now then, shall Ian try solving this problem?”
As he was scratching his throat in frustration, the teacher suddenly spoke Ian’s name.
The voice was as gloomy as befitting a corpse, but it was enough to crush the entire classroom. Ian’s movement halted with a jerk, and Seoah, who had been breathing quietly, turned to look at him.
“……Yes?”
Ian asked back. One could guess at his incredible patience from the fact that he still responded with honorifics.
Regardless, the corpse grinned.
Flies and maggots crawled out from inside its mouth.
“Hey, you weren’t concentrating on class, were you? I told you to solve this problem. Come up quickly. Since you rank at the top of the school, this much should be easy, no?”
“…….”
“Come on, quickly.”
The corpse said, flicking the chalk in its hand. Ian glanced at Seoah for a moment, then exhaled and stood up. Scrape—the chair grated backward.
He walked to the chalkboard. Naturally, the slippers he had changed into dragged across the floor; he took a piece of chalk hanging on the board and began solving the problem.
It was not a very difficult problem. He solved as much as possible through mental arithmetic, slowly writing down numbers. Meanwhile, he pretended to be troubled and looked around.
Outside the window.
Without a sun, all four seasons coexisted outside. He hadn’t noticed before, but seeing from a higher vantage point made it clear. Some of the trees on school grounds were cherry blossoms, but the rest were as lush as summer trees or had autumn leaves, and some had snow settled upon them like flowers.
Seasons changing from moment to moment also signified time in another sense. Therefore, he could tell that time in this space was very strange.
The windows.
The windows illuminating the hallway were covered with handprints. Above them, several heads dangled loosely.
Strangled corpses (絞殺體), all alike with their eyeballs gouged out and tongues lolling free.
Words of curses endlessly flowed from their mouths. Things he hadn’t seen when entering the classroom.
This made him realize that this classroom was a type of ghost story. Perhaps those strangled corpses were an urban legend associated with this classroom.
“…….”
Locker.
Nothing particularly abnormal. Next.
Chalkboard.
Even though he had clearly written no such thing, a chilling scraping sound could be heard as if it were scratching on its own. Some students shouted at Ian to stop, but he didn’t react. Because he hadn’t done it in the first place.
Finally, his seat.
A black form he had never seen before sat brazenly on the chair that had become empty when Ian stood up.
It changed from moment to moment, throwing on a school uniform and beginning to assemble a face. Then, its face instantly changed to resemble Ian’s.
[…Huh?!]
But just before it transformed perfectly, it lurched to a halt as if its hair had been grabbed by something invisible, then spewed black blood from its neck and vanished. Looking closely, Seoah’s guardian spirit had cut off its head.
*So there’s even a doppelganger.*
Ian clicked his tongue at the sight.
Well, doppelgangers were a common ghost story too. All the more so in a restricted place like a school, where it would be easy to cause confusion. It was fortunate it had been dealt with quickly.
*They don’t react when we kill it. Are acts perceived as a type of exorcism acceptable?*
Ian thought so as he finished solving the problem.
“That’s correct. Go back and sit down.”
“Yes.”
He gave a slight bow.
He greeted the corpse and returned to his seat.
If the doppelganger had still been alive at this moment, he would have died of cardiac arrest the instant he met its eyes.
Thinking so made his heart race on its own. It was clear that if he let his guard down even slightly, his neck and head would wave goodbye to each other.
*Is the difficulty similar to the hospital…… No, seeing as it also manipulates memories, it might be even worse.*
Ian let out a deep sigh, sat down, and looked back at Seoah.
“Have you calmed down a bit?”
“Yeah. I don’t like it, but if I self-harm, the mental attack weakens a bit. It also becomes easier to sort out memories.”
She stuck out her tongue slightly and nodded. A drop of blood had formed at the wet tip of her tongue.
“……I’m glad to hear that, but did you have to use your tongue?”
“I said I was taking care of it quickly. From now on I’ll just use a knife, simply.”
She took out a knife made of bone from her bag.
A blade made by grinding the bone of something not human. It was an item treated with magic, so there was no need to worry about contamination by ghost stories. Ian nodded and waited until class ended.
And so, thirty minutes later, the bell signaling the end of class flowed from the speaker. The corpse that had been passionately teaching mathematical formulas stopped moving and exited through the front door without any farewell.
“……So rude. And they call that a teacher.”
“It’s not a teacher. It’s a corpse.”
“Ah, right. It’s annoying, dammit……”
Seoah muttered and ran her hand through her hair.
Just then, the back door of the classroom burst open, and a black-haired girl entered halfway. She looked around, confirmed Ian’s position, and immediately ran toward him.
“Senior!”
Smack!
She leaped as if jumping into Ian’s embrace. Ian unconsciously caught her.
“Eeheehee. Seneeeor…… I came because it’s break time……”
“…….”
“Mmm…… I like you, Senior…… Your smell too, sniff sniff……”
“……Who is she?”
Seoah asked, furrowing her eyes. Strangely, a slight hint of anger was mixed in her voice.
“I’m your senior’s girlfriend!”
The answer came from ■■■ herself. She rested her chin on Ian's shoulder and broke into a beaming smile directed at Iseo.
"Hello there, Senior's friend. I don't know your name! Not that I have any intention of bothering to learn it!"
"...Is she insane? Hey, I'm your senior too. Show some manners."
"Hmm? I only have one senior, though? As for the rest... ahaha. Sorry, but I don't see them as people."
"...Ha, this crazy fucking bitch—"
"Iseo."
Ian cut Iseo off.
"Calm down."
"...No, Ian. That bitch started by calling me—"
"You're too emotional right now. No, more than that—you're probably being assimilated into 'the memories of you as a high school student.' So don't get worked up. You'll be consumed."
"...Ah."
Reason returned to Iseo's eyes. Ian forcibly pushed ■■■—who was humming a tune while nestled in his arms—away and continued speaking.
"Keep recalling your memories. I understand how difficult that is, but you still have to do it. Otherwise, it'll be hard to survive."
"...Yeah, thanks."
Ian nodded to Iseo, then looked down at ■■■ and muttered under his breath.
"Also, don't treat Iseo carelessly. She is my friend, without a doubt."
"...Senior."
"If you don't like it, then leave."
At his serious voice, ■■■ stared at him quietly, then burst into a soft laugh.
"So that's how you're going to play it?"
"...What?"
"I'll match your tune. Since you're matching mine too. But Senior? Even so, I cannot allow other females. There must be no other woman in your life but me. Our children want that too."
"..."
"My heart is as deep as the sea of the cosmos, but that doesn't mean it's wide. It's just deep enough to drown you, and only you, Senior."
She put her hands behind her back and planted a loud, smacking kiss on Ian's cheek. A red lip-tint mark was imprinted on his skin.
"Really. You're so lovely I could just devour you right this instant."
■■■ said so and leaned in toward Ian's lips.
That was when.
Creeeak!
The front door of the classroom burst open with a rough sound. ■■■'s head automatically turned toward the door, and through the gap of the opened door, a teacher clad in a suit entered the classroom with clacking footsteps. Her snow-white hair swayed lightly with her movements.
A thick scent of hyacinth wafted in. A floral fragrance that was neither overpowering nor faint filled the classroom.
"Hmph."
She turned to ■■■ and opened her mouth with an expressionless face.
"First-year. Return to your own classroom."
"...Ahaha, so the damned bitch has arrived?"
"A woman who emits a floral scent is better than one reeking of blood, isn't she?"
The teacher with a faculty ID card reading 'Rea' hanging around her neck placed her textbook on the table.
"Besides, seeing an old woman acting like she's some junior or senior is truly revolting. Do you want it that badly?"
"...Watch your mouth, Whitey. Before you reveal your true nature to my husband."
"Wouldn't I say the same? I believe I'm better than a monster who stuffs everything in sight into her stomach when bored."
"Are you asking for a fight?"
"Hmph. The only reason your neck is still attached is because I am merciful. So shut your mouth and disappear. I truly don't know what you think you're doing, causing him so much trouble and crawling back the moment you get a chance. Did you plug tentacles in where your head should be?"
"Ahaha, you're a deformity with eight arms sewn on, yet you're all talk, Teacher. Even so, your first kiss came later than mine. What are you so proud of, blathering on like that? Our Senior's ears will rot. Hee~"
■■■ covered Ian's ears with her hands and snickered.
Rea's eyes tilted about five degrees.
"Move that hand."
"I don't want to, "
"..."
Gulp.
Ian clamped his mouth shut and remained silent.
For some reason, it felt as though the entire school was trembling in fear.