“That’s right.” I nodded.

There was actually a huge variety to the books Misaki pulled out of her backpack, night after night. She apparently borrowed them en masse once a week from the library. There were novels, poetry collections, practical guides, and reference books. Misaki read books of all different shapes and sizes, and then she would read them to me.

“Well then, the text for tonight is The Last Words of Famous People. Its title refers to the words that exemplary people leave behind at the moment of their deaths….”

Refers to…?

“Let’s think about what life is!” she cried.

It was a dramatic line, and I was done in by Misaki’s ability to make such grand, unusual declarations with an utterly normal expression. Then again, seen from another perspective—well, compared to yesterday’s topic of “Let’s think about what it means to live”, it wasn’t that big a deal.

Regaining my composure, I urged her to continue, and Misaki immediately started reading the text aloud.

The book collected the last words of famous people from all around the world, from ancient times to modern days. I listened quietly and respectfully. As she read from the book, however, Misaki seemed to grow bored with it, and her theme changed along the way.

“‘More light…’ Well then, whose words could these be?”

What, a quiz?!

“Three… Two… One… Time’s up! The answer is Goethe. Well, that line is too cool, isn’t it? I think that Mr. Goethe must have thought it up far, far ahead of time.”

“M-maybe he did.”

“Okay then, next question. ‘Mikka Tororo[29] was delicious.’”

I knew this one. “It’s the marathon runner Kokichi Tsuburaya’s death note.”

“Ping pong, ping pong![30] That’s right! It’s amazing you knew that.”

I couldn’t really brag about knowing famous people’s last words, but Misaki praised me anyway. She sounded oddly taken with the contents of that death note, “Mikka Tororo… this is like some kind of joke, isn’t it?”

“Conversely, that might be why people are struck by it.”

“I see. That really clears things up for me”, she said, nodding repeatedly. “Tsuburaya, the runner, apparently went home to the countryside right before he died. Then, he ate grated yam with his mother and father, it says.”

“Hm.”

“I guess everyone wants to return to their hometowns before they die, after all.”

“Now that you mention it, Misaki, are you from this city?”

“No, I’m not. The north star is in that direction… so I’m probably from over there.” Misaki pointed in a north-by-northwest direction.

She said the name of a town I didn’t know and explained that it was a small town on the Sea of Japan, with a population of five thousand. According to her, it supposedly had a beautiful cape, but that cape had become a somewhat notorious spot for suicides.

“Ever since some famous person jumped off its cliff during the Meiji era, it’s like it’s become a Mecca for suicides. They say that so many people either jumped deliberately or slipped and fell accidentally that they had to construct safety barriers to prevent further incidents. When I was little, I didn’t know anything about that and was always playing on those bluffs. One day, I saw a strange woman there.”

Misaki continued, “She was by the cliff’s edge, on the high cape. It was a beautiful early evening, and the sky was a bright red. The woman, too, was beautiful.”

“And?”

“I took my eyes off her for just a moment, and she vanished. Even now, I sometimes see her in my dreams. It might have just been a dream to begin with, though. I mean, she had a really cheerful smile on her healthy-looking face. Alone, she stared at the ocean and late-afternoon sun. And then, in that one short instant, as I glanced away, she disappeared. A strange story, isn’t it?”

It was a strange story.

“What could have happened? I think she should have at least left a suicide note—maybe about grated yam or something”, I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“I want to eat some grated yam.”

“It makes you itchy.”

“Yeah.” She nodded.

“It’s delicious, though, isn’t it?”

The conversation had begun to stray. I, too, was exhausted, after all. But Misaki was laughing. “Ah, how fun, how happy. You think so, don’t you, Satou?”

“Sure.”

“We’re coming to the end. The last day of the project is approaching.” Misaki returned the book to her bag. “I’ve given all these helpful lectures, Satou, so you should be just about ready to become a model adult, right?”

Standing up from the bench, she said, “You understand now, don’t you? Why you’ve become a worthless person? Why you’ve become a hikikomori? You should understand by this point.”

I didn’t answer.

“If you think about it properly, you should definitely understand.”

Still seated on the bench, I looked up at her. The park was so dark that only her silhouette was illuminated. I couldn’t see the expression on her face.

“I’m nearly out of time. I can’t cause any more trouble for my aunt and uncle, so I’m going to leave town.”

Her tone was absolutely casual, so I listened to her calmly.

“Where are you going?”

“A city… someplace where there are lots of people; someplace where no one knows me; someplace where I don’t know anyone. That’s why, by the time I go, Satou… Satou, you have to become an outstanding person.”

I couldn’t tell where the discussion was going; then again, she was a girl who said terribly unreasonable things.

Dazed, I shook my head from side to side.

“That won’t change anything”, said Misaki.

“Okay, I understand. I’m fine now.” All I could do, at that point, was try to convince her of her success. “No, because of you, I really have been reborn. You should rest assured of that and start a life of your own in a new city.”

She still seemed somehow dissatisfied.

In an optimistic tone, I said, “Thank you! I owe you my life! Oh, that’s true! Want to take my stereo with you? It’s a necessity for living alone. If you want it, I’ll give it to you as a present….”

“That isn’t what I mean.”

“It isn’t what you mean?”

I waited patiently for her to continue, but Misaki turned her back on me without saying anything else.

I stood up, too. “Well then, goodbye.”

I started walking toward my apartment; as I did, Misaki called out. “No! Wait a second!”

“What?”

“Let’s go on a date. It’ll be your graduation exam to test whether you really have become an outstanding, socially adept person, Satou. Meet me at the station, Sunday at noon. And we’re definitely going, even if it rains!”

With this defiant declaration, Misaki quickly strode away.

Meanwhile, Yamazaki really was making a bomb. He had gotten hold of a bomb recipe from the Internet and was really, truly manufacturing a bomb.

First, he needed to make black gunpowder. The history of black gunpowder went way back into the distant past. For example, it was used during the Genkou period of Mongolian invasions[31]; and the weapon called the tetsuhou[32], which surprised the samurai, also used black gunpowder. Despite being an extremely primitive compound of potassium nitrate, sulfur, and coal, its force is tremendous. They say that when used in an enclosed space, black gunpowder generates enough power to break all the windows on an average car and instantly kill the people inside.

“What are you going to use a bomb for?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? I’m going to blow up something!”

Well, yeah, that was true. It was, indeed, obvious. There was no other use for a bomb.