In a Daze Read online

  KAGEROU DAZE I

  My eyes are blinded. In an instant, the world flashes to monochrome. Amid it all, the blue of a clear, cloudless sky, and a red…a red sign, and then…! Those two colors alone, bursting in stark contrast, burning themselves deep into my retinas.

  This sight now spread out before me—what is this?

  The sound of the cicadas’ mindless, frenetic cry stabs into my ears.

  The smell of iron intermingles with your scent.

  Every one of my senses pounds directly into my brain, bypassing my consciousness completely.

  A set of tire tracks, burned across the pedestrian crosswalk, along with a line of red, as red as your tiny body. There’s nothing I can do, not now, but when I run to the scene anyway, choking heat sears my eyes, my nose, my head, beating the reality home all the more.

  This isn’t you here.

  This isn’t the girl I was speaking with just now.

  This is just a red lump of something.

  I don’t care what anyone says. This—this isn’t you.

  …Nausea wells up in my throat. My head is killing me. My vision blurs like I’ve opened my eyes underwater, and droplets began to fall, drip by drip, onto the asphalt. They were trickling out, I suppose, from both of my eyes.

  I open my mouth, trying to speak, but I couldn’t hear a single word. Perhaps my voice was drowned out by the cicadas, or perhaps I never made a sound in the first place.

  I have to tell you.

  I had finally just resolved to tell you.

  I have to tell you now.

  The heat haze drifted up from the street, strangely close as it shimmered in the hot air.

  It just hung there, ever present, as if laughing at me, as if trying to come between us.

  Leave us alone. I’m finally about to tell her.

  You can laugh at me all you want later. Just stay out of my way for now.

  I know I’m pretty late on this. I know this could make things weird. But you…

  your kind of selfish attitude

  the way you get violent when someone makes you blush

  the way your hair smelled in the breeze

  everything

  —I loved all of it, and you.

  JINZOU ENEMY

  I was jarred awake by the sound of a blaring siren. My heartbeat shot upward as I was greeted by the plain white ceiling above me. Still unaware of my surroundings, I flailed around, knocking over the small desk by my side, and fell out of bed.

  “…Ngh!”

  I banged my right shin, hard. A beat, and then the burning discomfort was relayed to my brain.

  My eyes tearing up in fear from the pain and the furious noise, I pulled the sprawled-out comforter toward me, cocooning myself inside. Then the siren stopped.

  “Good morning, master!”

  The moment I heard that voice, I finally understood the situation I was in.

  Here I was, Shintaro Kisaragi, body unnaturally twisted on the floor, clad in underpants and bedsheets, tears in my eyes. And there she was, Ene, looking on from inside the monitor display, tears in her eyes as she tried to choke back her laughter.

  It was the height of summer. Just a little while ago, everyone was going nuts over meteor strikes and the Mayans or whoever predicting the end of the world. Now? It’s back to business as usual, the top headlines all stuff like “Guess which breakout idol is about to make her TV drama debut?!”

  For someone with a vocation like mine, someone who prides himself on keeping up with the latest news and who engaged in heated front-line debates about the Apocalypse all across the net, I had to admit that things, in general, were failing to wow me lately.

  Of course, maybe “vocation” is overstating it. Normally, I would be a regular old eighteen-year-old high-school student. But instead I have generously volunteered to remain at home, keeping close watch over my domestic domain during those times when I haven’t devoted myself to the free exchange of opinion with other denizens of the Internet. My primary work duties involve creating amateur music, a hobby I started completely from scratch, and posting my erstwhile, insightful reviews, day and night, in the comments section of whatever’s just been posted to my preferred video site. I’ve been on the job for two years.

  I haven’t quite made any songs, keep in mind.

  But! But! Look out, world, because today (for a change) I’m ready to do this!

  Plopping down at my computer desk, I crammed the sandwich my mother supplied me this morning into my mouth and stared at the music sequencer window in front of me. My mission: to reach number one on the video site rankings, to get my song out on ringtones and in karaoke rooms, to release my first major album…!

  Basically, I want to be lavished with attention.

  Most days, this lofty ambition sadly gets sidetracked, falling to dust after half an hour or so as I push forward with my pressing video-commenter obligations. But no, today will not be like most. This sandwich is filled with more than just my mother’s love—there must be something else in it that drives me now, filling me to overflowing with catchy musical riffs, like the Muses themselves have possessed me.

  “Oh, this is gonna explode!” I said to myself as I began punching in notes. This composition work was going so unbelievably smoothly that it was unnerving. But there was something else flitting around the display—a kind of virus, if you will, one plainly bent on interfering with my mission.

  “Looks like it’ll be a scorcher today. Wow! They’re saying it’s gonna get up to ninety-five downtown!”

  “Ooh, look out! They’ve already taken ten or so people to the hospital for heat stroke. Better take ample precautions when you go outside, master!”

  I have no idea why anyone would go outside on a day like this.

  Though, really, I have no idea why anyone would go outside, period.

  “Oh, speaking of which, master, today’s siren was an alert used by certain nations in case of threat-level-four-or-higher incidents. I boosted the frequency bands I thought you’d find the most grating, and—”

  “The hell do you mean, ‘today’s siren’? You got one for tomorrow, too…? Uh.”

  Oh, great. I just had to sass back at her.

  She had been shifting to and fro across the display, futilely trying to engage me in inane conversation. Now she was stopped, standing tall, the smile providing the cherry to top the look of utter victory on her face. She was front and center on the screen now as she joyfully continued.

  “Oops! Guess I let the cat out of the bag! Now I’ll have to find something even more exciting for tomorrow! Oh, and no need to thank me, of course. Seeing a happy customer’s smiling face is all the thanks I need!”

  “I didn’t ask for a sales rep! You know this is gonna bruise, right? This is aggravated assault we’re talking about!”

  I pointed out the soon-to-be blunt-force trauma on my shin, plaintively stating my case as she cackled like a witch, furtively rubbing her hands together.

  It was a futile effort. A question mark popped up over her head as she tilted her head in a brazen attempt at shocked confusion.

  It was August 14th. Three in the morning, by the way. The siren that so suddenly blared across the house had beaten not just myself, but my mother out of bed. She rushed over to my room, only to find her son ranting and raving at this cute virtual cyber-girl on the computer display.

  As the shouting intensified, causing far more consternation for the neighbors than any siren, and as I found myself receiving a face-to-fist greeting from good ol’ Mom for the effort, morning slowly crept across the landscape.

  Which brings us to now. I haven’t looked in the mirror yet, but I assumed I had a bruise on my face as well by now.

  “Guh. You have got to be kidding me. What the
hell am I gonna do if she destroys my computer? I’d, like, die.”

  “Ohhh, master, you are so kind to me! Putting your concern for me above your own! And you even came right to me the moment you woke up this morning!”

  She zoomed herself in on-screen, her eyes shining like a reject from some old shoujo manga. I flew into yet another violent rage.

  “Yeah, ’cause I’m gonna delete your ass! If I lose my computer, that’s gonna kill me, not you!”

  “Oh, there you go again! You can’t fool me! I know how thoughtful and caring a master you really are. Yep! Every day with you, nothing but bliss!”

  This was getting nowhere.

  It never, ever gets anywhere with her. I’m sick of it.

  How did this wind up happening to me? Let me think…

  About a year ago, I received an enigmatic e-mail from an unknown sender. I opened it, something I would never dare do today, and the result made my life the stressful farce it is now.

  The moment this thing lurking in the mail attachment wriggled its way into my computer, it commandeered every single square inch of my hard drive.

  At the time, I had no idea what had happened. I saw these geometric shapes pop up on my desktop, on top of all the application windows, and then this girl appeared, her blue hair done up in twin pigtails, a faint glow covering her entire body.

  I thought it was cute at first. I really did.

  It’s hard to believe now.

  This girl I was suddenly presented with exuded mystery. My mind conjured up images of some distressed heroine going on, like, “Oh, you finally saved me, we must fight together for justice,” etc.

  It was more than enough for someone like me, a troll in a troll cave, the utter dregs of society, to think I had finally drawn the “world-beating hero” card. The encounter was too perfect, driving me to flights of terribly mistaken fancy. Soon we would be battling a shadowy organization, investigating supernatural incidents nationwide, uniting with our stalwart band of friends as we fought off hideous monsters! The first episode of a rip-snorting adventure!

  But.

  No supernatural incidents took place. Remarkably, I didn’t grow a magical demon eye or anything. A band of friends was out of the question; I was lucky if I could get my mail-order packages delivered right. Monsters? Well, there were some cockroaches. And I don’t think I ever heard of an adventure tale where the first line was: “Oh, uh, nice to meet you!” Followed by: “Uh, yeah…”

  To start out, I told her about my life. Nothing too deep, but at least we could still sustain a normal conversation back then.

  “Could I ask who you are?” I said. I was taking pains to be polite to her for some reason. “It’s just that I’ve never heard of any kind of software package like this.”

  “Well,” she replied, “I don’t really know myself.” A lot of that kind of thing.

  And that, really, was a lot healthier than now. I could ask her things, and she’d actually give me a reply.

  But I guess she got used to things after about a week. Her behavior grew notably more bizarre, and she began to both interfere with my noble work and just plain screw around with me. She renamed the folder with all my embarrassingly heartfelt song lyrics and such as “Pig’s Feet.” The repository of cherished, handpicked images I had spent my life collecting and observing had its name changed to “~~Carnal Graveyard~~.”

  After a month, the renaming binge had spread across my entire PC. Even the file names of all the demo data for the tracks I was building had been overwritten with rather more sensitive titles. The sort of titles that, if I built an album out of them, might kick off a completely new genre.

  I won’t bother going into the throat-burning tirades that followed each incident. None of them had any notable effect on her.

  “Hey…You changed my log-in and password, didn’t you?”

  Here we go again. My log-in for the video site was refusing to work this morning. I didn’t remember changing the password. Which, nine times out of ten, meant it was her work.

  “Oooh! Well done, master! I’m so happy you spotted it so quickly!”

  “Change it back. Now.”

  “Oh, don’t get in such a lather! Look what I’ve got for you!”

  The “No” button silently selected itself in the “Save changes?” window. Every single window on the display closed (not minimized, closed) in an instant.

  “Aaaahhhhh!!!”

  Then, like the climax of some terrible ’80s game show, a multiple-choice quiz came up on-screen.

  “Right, question one! Get this correct, and I’ll give you the first password to—”

  “Are you crazy?! I’m gonna kill you! Gimme my song! Give it back!!”

  Anyone watching from afar as I shot out of my chair and yelled hysterically at the display probably would have found it hilarious. She herself looked put off, wearing a kind of “whoa, who’s this guy, this ain’t good” kind of expression. Even though it was her damn fault.

  “Ugggghhhhh…”

  I had lost the strength to go on. I cradled my head in my hands, preparing to bang it against the desk in agony, when I felt something ominous around my elbow.

  “Ahh! Master, master! Your drink!”

  “Huh?”

  The soda I was in the middle of drinking was pouring itself out over my keyboard and mouse.

  A second scream thundered across my room as I, in a panic, beat the keyboard senseless with my ever-handy tissues.

  I feared the worst, visions of my hardware getting drenched in high-fructose corn syrup dancing in my head.

  But I couldn’t allow myself to entertain thoughts like that. Body and soul, I had to focus on rescuing this endangered, vulnerable life. C’mon, live!

  Everything I could wipe was wiped. Hurriedly, I tested out the keys. The only ones that responded were o, r, and t.

  Apparently I was too late. Tears of frustrated resignation ran down my cheeks.

  “Master! Mouse, mouse!”

  Her voice snapped me back to reality.

  Yes! She’s right! I still had another life to save!

  Holding back the tears, I took the mouse in hand.

  “Please…! Please, come back to me…!”

  I found myself gurgling out loud as I single-mindedly buried the mouse in a flurry of tissues. I couldn’t say how long I spent on the task, but when I was done, all that worked was the right mouse button. The context menu popped on-screen, cruelly, hatefully.

  Why does this world have to be so heartless?

  What did these poor wretches do to anyone? It was just too horrible to contemplate.

  “Oh! Hey, master, you can still type ‘rot’ all right! That’s one word, at least!”

  “Just…Just shut up. Please…”

  I was possessed by a sudden urge to trash the entire computer setup. But doing that would kill me. Nobody else. Covering my face with my hands, I stood strong against the crashing torrents of hopelessness, bottling up my rage, as there was nowhere else for it to go.

  For a while, there was silence. The whir of the AC unit filled the room, the air flowing in near my feet before gradually wafting upward and cooling my head. This is it. The absolute worst thing that could happen. With all of her past pranks, I reacted with abject fury, deleting her time, and time, and time again. But she must have had some backup of herself on the net, because as long as I was online, she would resurrect herself, reoccupying my screen the moment after her deletion like nothing had happened. But, you ask, wouldn’t staying offline solve the problem? Perhaps. But I couldn’t bear the thought of living in that particular hell for even a few hours. So, each time, the cycle began anew.

  Truly, she was an enemy of mankind, one created by human hands. Ene, the enemy. I don’t know who it was, but whoever instilled this hypercharged AI with that insane personality must have been some kind of sociopath.

  I sighed. We had gone through this chain of wanton destruction multiple times by this point. But today there was just to
o much happening at once. Her myopic bouts of sadism would have driven anyone weaker than me to insanity by now. If you asked me, I think I’ve held out pretty well.

  I wouldn’t have minded getting a little appreciation for it, in fact. But no. I’m alone. An unemployed shut-in. Worthless.

  It was hard to say how many minutes had passed as all of these desperate thoughts flashed through my mind. I suddenly noticed an eerie sense of quiet around me. I told her to shut up, yes, but it was rare for her to actually listen to me for so long. I turned an eye toward the display, only to find a shocking sight beaming back at me.

  The screen displayed a list of estimated delivery dates from assorted online electronics sites. This wasn’t the surprising thing. She was, moping apologetically on-screen, trying to gauge my reaction.

  Our eyes met. “Oh, uh…” she said, averting her gaze as she pointed out the keyboard and mouse I had all but set up a wake for. “I just…I dunno. I wasn’t expecting this to happen. It was just kind of a joke, you know…”

  I was stupefied. Where the hell did that come from…? Then I realized why she was trying to fish a response from me.

  “You…you’re not actually sorry, are you?”

  “I…!”

  She seemed to come to attention, but quickly turned back downward.

  As I saw her shyly swing her legs back and forth, I began to feel how I did the first few days after we met. I found myself looking aside as well, a strange nervous energy dominating my mind. I, uh…Ugh. I had to say something—!

  “Well, there’s no point crying over spilled milk…I guess…Plus, they were both pretty old. I was kind of thinking about replacing them anyway…uh…”

  That was about all I had. I looked back at the display. Her back was turned to me as she furiously flipped through all the shopping sites she could find.

  “Yes! Exactly what I thought! I was just thinking it was time for a big upgrade! I mean, I’m shocked they lasted as long as they did! Talk about durable!”