Over the Dimension Read online

  Copyright

  KAGEROU DAZE, Volume 6

  JIN (Shizen no Teki-P)

  Translation by Kevin Gifford

  Cover art by SIDU

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  KAGEROU DAZE VI -over the dimension-

  ©KAGEROU PROJECT/1st PLACE

  First published in Japan in 2015 by KADOKAWA CORPORATION ENTERBRAIN.

  English translation rights arranged with KADOKAWA CORPORATION ENTERBRAIN, through Tuttle-Mori Agency, Inc., Tokyo.

  English translation © 2017 by Yen Press, LLC

  Yen Press, LLC supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

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  First Yen On Edition: January 2017

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Jin, 1990– author. | SIDU, 1993– illustrator. | Gifford, Kevin, translator.

  Title: Kagerou daze. Volume 6, Over the dimension / JIN (Shizen no Teki-P) ; illustrated by SIDU ; translation by Kevin Gifford.

  Other titles: Over the dimension

  Description: First Yen On edition. | New York, NY : Yen On, 2017.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2016045194 | ISBN 9780316466646 (paperback)

  Subjects: | CYAC: Teenagers—Japan—Fiction. | Ability—Fiction. | BISAC: FICTION / Science Fiction / General.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.1.J55 Kam 2017 | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016045194

  ISBNs: 978-0-316-46664-6 (paperback)

  978-0-316-46665-3 (ebook)

  E3-20161222-JV-PC

  DAZE1

  “Why am I even watching TV right now?”

  I found myself muttering the question to no one in particular as I sat before the analog television.

  My mind didn’t feel particularly foggy. I had no memory of falling asleep, and I didn’t think I’d fainted or anything like that, either.

  …Wait a minute. I didn’t actually remember anything at all.

  What was I doing here? And why was I staring at this TV? For whatever reason, I found it completely impossible to recall.

  Not only did I fail to remember a single thing about the program I’d supposedly been watching, but there really was nothing in memory, right up to the moment I’d opened my mouth to speak. It was like someone was operating a conveyor belt into my brain, ferrying out the memories before I could even hold on to them.

  I focused my distracted mind back on the TV. Lines of text flowed up the screen like credits at the end of a movie, accompanied by the graceful yet warped melody of a violin.

  So had I been watching some kind of film, then?

  …That struck me as pretty unlikely. Movies were never something I’d been particularly interested in. The most recent ones I could remember at all were the movie versions of that “cute fighting girl” anime that aired on Sunday mornings. But picturing myself staring blankly at movie credits, for who knows how long, was difficult to imagine. No matter how much free time I had in my life—and trust me, I had a lot—this struck me as an incredible waste of it.

  If what I’d been viewing had credits, then, it must have had some kind of, you know…film, too. And I must have watched for whatever x number of minutes came before, but…what was it I’d watched?

  “Geez, I can’t remember anything. Like, where am I, even…?”

  Yeah. Good point, self. Better figure that out first. Is there anything here I can use to help me get my bearings? Some kind of building, or window, or person? Hopefully looking for something like that won’t take me away from my room for too long.

  That was what crossed my mind as I swiveled my head around, trying to take in my surroundings—

  —only to find them completely beyond belief.

  “You have got to be kidding me.”

  Stretching out for what must have been hundreds of miles…was a world of pure white. It was impossible to figure out how far it went.

  There were no people, no buildings—not even a single dead twig. Nothing to delineate the ground from the sky, and certainly nothing like a sun or moon. Not even my own shadow.

  Except for the weather-beaten old TV, everything in front, behind, above, below—everything I could see—was a single, uniform shade of white.

  It was a mercilessly surreal sight—and it left me quivering.

  I recalled darkness terrifying me as a kid. This whiteness was the total opposite, but it still had the exact same effect on my psyche. Maybe worse.

  At least in the dark, I could imagine something good existing out there, some hidden hope to cling to. A sense of expectation. I just couldn’t see it, was all.

  Here, however—there was nothing. This clear, white sort of nothingness made hope seem impossible.

  My mind was buried in despair, failing to find any footing at all to explain this state of affairs. I had no recollection of coming here, and not a single living creature was anywhere nearby. Even if I tried journeying off, there weren’t any distant landmarks to aim for. All I saw was a constant white, white, white—projecting nothing but cruel, uncaring doom.

  What was up with this? Could someone even make a place so enormous, so beyond comprehension? No way. It just wasn’t possible.

  But as far as I could tell, nothing about this was a “creation” at all. It was simply a vast empty space, devoid of anything natural or even artificial. I could think of just one explanation, which was that I…

  “Ah, crap! That really better not be it…!”

  My voice trembled as I attempted to bring my racing mind to a halt.

  No. There’s no point trying to think rationally about such a surreal world.

  What good would it do? I’d never find an answer.

  For now, I need to start searching. There’s got to be something, somewhere, I can grab on to that’ll offer a hint toward escape. But is there anything? Anything at all? How do I get out of this bizarro land? No, there’s got to be a clue around here somewhere…

  The first thing I latched on to, of course, was the analog TV plopped in front of me.

  The only hope I really had to go on in this place was that television. Which didn’t matter to me. My mind thirsted for information, no matter how ridiculous. With a weary sense of expectation, I turned my eyes toward the screen—and found my hopes dashed by what could only be described as despair in textual form.

  “What the hell language is this…?”

  The credits scrolling up the screen were composed of an erratic mishmash of word strings, as if someone took languages from a handful of regions, ran them through a food processor, and posted the results. I tried my best to read it, focusing all my mental capacity on the effort.
But there was nothing consistent or regular about any of it. I had at least a little bit of confidence when it came to languages, but this offered nothing to go on.

  I heaved a mighty sigh and took a seat on what I supposed was the ground.

  Looking around again, I still saw no people. Nothing besides that TV set.

  The last memory I could recall was being in my room, messing around on my computer. Was that correct? It was all I could conjure up, and even that was hazy. Regardless, I definitely hadn’t gone outside.

  This TV with the end credits…What’s it supposed to even mean?

  Looking at the screen made me feel, gradually, that I really had watched…something here. Something with actual meaning.

  Parts of it had made me laugh, I thought, and other parts were more solemn, almost melancholy. These were the sorts of tiny fragments of recall that popped into my head—then disappeared just as quickly.

  Right. No doubt about it, though. I’d watched the…whatever it was these credits were for.

  But there was something about that “whatever”…

  For reasons beyond understanding, I couldn’t remember any of its core aspects, as if it were enshrouded in fog. Why am I forgetting the most important thing here?

  “Was it…like, something I don’t want to remember?”

  The moment I said the thought aloud, I found some words among the gobbledygook on-screen that I could finally decipher. I hurriedly ran up to the TV, gluing my eyes to the screen so I wouldn’t miss them. My first sliver of hope. I instinctively read them out:

  “Let’s see…‘Starring…Shintaro…Kisaragi’?”

  In all my life, I had never run into anyone with the same name. Even if I had, no way this mystery person would pop up right now. Not with this kind of timing.

  There was no mistaking it. The star of the show was listed under…my name.

  So was I playing the lead or something? Yeah, right. I’ve never been anywhere near a movie set, much less starred in one.

  Maybe something besides a movie, then? But what else would have full-on credits like this? Televised theater productions, TV dramas, anime…Nothing I remembered signing up for, anyway. Besides, I doubted I had even a chance of starring in anything like that.

  Yeah. This is insane. About the only thing I could ever star in is…my own life, pretty much.

  My own…life…?

  “…No.”

  No. No, no. No!

  That can’t be it. This is a dream. I’m just having a bad dream, is all! The weird chill coming across my body, the shortness of breath—it was just part of the nightmare. Yeah. There’re no “closing credits” to my life. There can’t be…!

  “What the hell is this crap…? Damn it!”

  I stood up and swiftly kicked the TV to tell it exactly what I thought of all this. My leg smashed home, strong enough that I should’ve easily broken a toe.

  And yet…What’s the deal? It doesn’t hurt at all, and I’m not bleeding?

  Okay. Now this was scary. I didn’t get it at all. The anxiety was threatening to kill me. But despite all that…Why wasn’t I crying?

  What happened to me, anyway? Why can’t I remember anything? Am I really “Shintaro Kisaragi” at all?

  Please. Anyone. Just tell me.

  What’s going to happen to me now?

  Am I just going to disappear?

  Does this mean it’s all over?

  Or is this going to continue on and on to infinity? Is that how it’s gonna be? Me, all alone, in this void forever…?

  …Ugh. Anything but that. This is the worst dream ever.

  I felt about ready to lose my mind. If this is a dream, then wake me up already…Hurry…

  “…Calm down already, Shintaro.”

  …A voice.

  The voice I heard out of nowhere caused the overworked circuits of my brain to freeze in place. Maybe the suddenness of it was too much of a surprise, but the real reason it stopped me so cold was because the owner of the voice was about the one person I’d least expect to be calling on me.

  Following the voice, a shrill, electronic tone began to beep at regular intervals. It kept echoing a steady beeping rhythm with its cold, machine-generated tone. Something about it…I know this. This was the sound used on TV shows to represent someone’s pulse.

  Some kind of EKG…? I had heard it who knows how many times before. When my grandfather was admitted to the hospital. When my sister almost drowned in the sea. That, and one other time.

  Lifting my head back up to attention, I found that a metallic door had appeared before me out of thin air, just a little bit ahead of me. There was no wall framing it—it was just a door, standing there amid nothing.

  Whether I still had all my marbles deep down or my mind had finally decided to check out on me, I didn’t really know—seeing this sight didn’t generate any kind of shock or surprise.

  I took a closer look at the door.

  Did it lead to an operating room, perhaps? There was a red-light panel above the door that reminded me of the ones in hospitals that indicate surgeries in progress.

  Between this and the voice I had just heard…

  “…You want me to go in?”

  …that was the only interpretation I could come to.

  The voice from before was definitely familiar. There was no way, I thought, it could be anyone besides the guy I was picturing.

  If that was the case—as ironic as it’d be—this being a hospital OR door would suddenly make a lot of sense. But…was that kind of thing even possible?

  I mean, if I could see him again, I’d love to. There was a lot we needed to talk about. For the past two years, I’d regretted not being able to listen to what he really had to say, or to tell him what I really wanted. What actually happened on that day two years ago? Why was I the only one left behind? The question ate at me constantly.

  If this is my big chance to talk to him again…

  “…Open up.”

  The moment I whispered the words in front of the door, there was a loud click and the red light panel shut off. At the same time, the metal door opened soundlessly.

  The first thing I noticed was the smell. That uniquely antiseptic smell that seems to pervade every corner of a hospital blew through the half-open door.

  The next thing that entered my sight was a vast, almost uncountable number of IV drips, strewn all across the pure white space. The innumerable plastic lines were each linked to a separate bag filled with a colorless liquid, but the thin tubes snaking out from them extended inward toward a single, unseen point. They numbered in the dozens, the hundreds even, making them resemble a sort of haphazard spider’s web.

  And at the terminus…was something I couldn’t see from the entrance. But judging by the direction that beeping came from, it must’ve been generated by whoever was on the other side.

  No point moping around at the door. With a deep breath, I stepped through.

  Grabbing at the IV drips, I waded my way through the maze, taking care not to tip any of them over as I took step after reluctant step. The more I advanced, the more powerful the antiseptic smell became. Attempting to pick my way through this endless, teeming mass of tubes was like attempting to bushwhack through a metallic jungle.

  Clinking and clanking my way through, the destination at the end of this twisted tangle finally fell into sight.

  Despite the fact that this was allegedly an operating room, there were no other medical devices visible apart from the IVs. Not a single doctor or nurse presided, either.

  All I saw was a single bed, wrapped in white sheets that seemed to melt into the equally white backdrop.

  Unexpectedly meeting the eyes of the patient in that bed, exactly the way I remembered him from before, made me gasp.

  What are you doing here?

  What’s happened to you all this time?

  Where are we, for that matter?

  Am I here because you called me over?

  …Despite the torrent of
these and other questions that flashed across my mind, the one that reflexively made it to my lips was quite a bit more run-of-the-mill.

  “How long has it been, Haruka?”

  “…Um, a pretty long time, I guess, huh?”

  Haruka Kokonose, a student in the year above me, sat up in bed, his voice just as soft as before.

  …It should have never happened, but there he was—right there—awake.

  “Um, I…uhh…”

  My voice shuddered to a halt. Who could blame me? I didn’t have a single breezy topic I could use for a casual chat with him. Haruka must have noticed because he was the next to speak:

  “Kind of easy to get nervous after all this time, huh? I mean, I never even dreamed that we’d meet again like this.”

  “Oh! Y-you too, huh? I’m the same way.”

  Haruka replied with a quiet “Yeah,” then lowered his eyes, his face betraying a bit of sadness.

  …The silence came far too quickly. I couldn’t guess how long it had been since I’d last spoken to anyone. My mind seemed to recall that I’d talked to my sister not long ago, but outside that, I didn’t even have the slightest, fragmented memory of speaking to another human being.

  That’s the kind of guy I was. And it meant there was no way I could keep a conversation going all by myself.

  “…Um. So! Like, there’s a lot I wanna talk to you about! Like, where we are, and, and s-stuff…!”

  As I expected, it came out far louder than I intended. At least my voice had the good sense not to bounce off the walls too much. Assuming there were any walls, which—now that I noticed—there weren’t.

  But Haruka didn’t act surprised at all. Instead he looked down, a tad dejected.

  “I guess you don’t remember after all, huh? You haven’t forgotten about…you know, everybody, have you?”