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Chapter 7: memories - Time Machine -

Shopping with Yuna and Onii-chan. When I said "Onii-chan," he pinched my cheeks!
In the rain, I was humming a tune with Onee-chan, and she laughed, all like, "Heeey~." Lately, I kinda know a lot about what's going on outside. It's a big deal, they say.
There's a murderer in town, they say. We had one in my house too, right, Natane?
My voice was so loud, a person passing by got startled!
And that Onee-chan who came to my room just now, they say she's having a really tough time. That makes me happy, y'know? Not that I can do anything to help, though. I'm going shopping with Yuna Onee-chan!
I'll follow her to the supermarket. Anywhere else, I won't fooollow~
Actually, they say even shopping is dangerous right now. What a weird town, huh?
But Yuna Onee-chan isn't flustered at all. She's always grinning and laughing.
I bet, for me, nothing's really different from usual.
Onee-chan often tells me I'm a lucky kid.
That's why I win supermarket lotteries and don't get caught up in dangerous stuff, she says. That's a bit of a problem, though. I want to stay with Yuna Onee-chan forever and ever.
I wonder if that Onee-chan will solve everything, *poof*!
As I was singing like that, Yuna Onee-chan grabbed my cheeks again!
"Honestly, you're so carefree," she said.
Oh, there's that Onee-chan from before.
"Go for it~!" I waved at her.

Be that as it may.
I sometimes read what's in my head. The source of imagination, capable of easily transcending time and space. Memories are the most familiar time machine, and thanks to their presence, it has become very easy for us to turn our eyes away from reality. For better or worse, a moderate amount of time travel might just be essential for maintaining one's mental equilibrium. That is, depending on how much that mind has already been destroyed.
Are dreams also a kind of phenomenon that transcends time? People who died right before my eyes appear as if it's perfectly natural, behaving and moving around as if they possess their own will. It's terrifying, yet I find myself captivated.
The dream I had last night, while tied to a chair and forced to sleep, went something like this, if I recall correctly.

Though "setting" is a strange way to put it, in the dream, I was a middle schooler. At least, that was the only reason, because of the uniform I was wearing; perhaps I was actually still a high schooler. That part doesn't really matter, but anyway, I, clad in a middle school uniform, was sitting in a place that looked like a school classroom. The interior and the lingering smell of dust were that of a classroom, but it was a cramped room, about a quarter the size of a normal one. There was only one desk, and I was the only one sitting there. I don't mind being isolated, but the space next to me was unnaturally empty, and that alone made it uncomfortable. Resting my chin on my hand on the desk, I looked around the room and noticed a single window. However, this window was made as if buried in the center of the wall, an opaque object. Peering closely at it, I realized that a space with the same construction as the room I was in extended beyond it. The two rooms, separated by the unopenable window, were symmetrical.
Yes, if I had to say, it was like a confessional, I guess. If you want to know more about confessionals, I'd recommend reading "Thus Spoke Kishibe Rohan," but I'll continue my explanation. In that confessional-like place, there was no door like the ones connecting classrooms to hallways, and I was dumbfounded, wondering, "Hey, hey, how did I even get in here?" At that point, I realized it might be a dream. Perhaps related to this realization, the corners of the walls and the window warped, and the room looked like it would collapse in an instant. Somehow, feeling it was a shame for the dream to end so quickly, I raised both hands and pleaded to someone or something, "A lie, a lie. Just kidding. I haven't noticed anything at all." The distortion subsided.
"What is this?" I found myself amused, as if I'd gotten a new toy. It felt like I was meddling in someone else's dream. I sat down in the chair again, straightened my posture, and cleared my throat with a "Ahem." I waited, as if praying for someone to appear on the other side of the window. And naturally, since this was my dream, that wish came true, and a human figure appeared, sitting opposite me. Even if I strained my eyes at the window, I couldn't make out the figure's identity. The shadow was reflected in the window, but I just couldn't see beyond it.
It was supposed to be opaque in the first place, so no matter how much I strained my eyes, there was no way to know what was beyond the window from the start. "How careless of me," I chuckled wryly. For now, I tried talking to it.
Now then, between me and the someone in the back... which of us is the priest, meant to hear confession?
"Hello. Where is this? And, who are you?"
My own voice, distorted, came crackling from a broadcast speaker near the ceiling. Terrible sound quality. If this were karaoke, it would be unscorable, or rather, in a realm where it wouldn't even be recognized as singing. I bit my lower lip.
After a short pause, the speaker crackled with sound again. It was the voice of a person I didn't recognize. It was a terribly choppy tone, as if a bird was chirping along with a person, or maybe it wasn't a human voice at all.
"You're the only one who can decide that here, aren't you?"
And what a cheeky reply it was. It's true that since it's my dream, I'm the one who has to decide.
"Well then, let's see. I'll just go with Kaneko to be safe."
The way of speaking was masculine, so he should be fine. Or rather, he was the only one I could think of.

My story doesn't have many male characters, after all. I feel like there were a few more, but they were mostly dead.
"Ah, so I'm Kaneko, huh? And then, uh, what what... Hold on, I'm gonna read the cue card."
"Take your time."
There's no time in a dream. Precisely because the phenomenon itself is a time machine. But what's with the cue card? I wonder. Since this is my dream, isn't it strange that I don't know the content? Nah, I've never been able to predict the development of any dream I've had so far.
So even the god of the moment doesn't know the future, huh?
In the first place, Kaneko, facing me through the window, is nothing more than "me." If he doesn't at least pretend not to know, or if that's not the setup, I can't enjoy anything. So, I should probably just wait patiently.
"Alright, read it. Uhm, do you think there's such a thing as a 'righteous killer'?"
"Huh? What kind of question is that?"
"Well now. Isn't that something you've been wondering about lately?"
"Nah, if anything, my usual state is 'Maa-chan, haa haa'... but as a joke..."
"Oh, is it a joke?"
I give a wry smile, "It's debatable." If the speaker's crackling continues, my brain feels like it's going to fizz and pop like soda. My senses of hearing and touch are both functioning as usual, and I'm thoroughly impressed by the exquisite construction of this dream.
What's the difference between a dream that invites all five senses perfectly and reality? Is it the presence or absence of pain with no room for choice? Is that all that separates reality from dreams? If so, who would choose reality?
"It's got to be dreams."
I would do the same, and Maa-chan too, she'd keep dreaming. Just like now. The capacity of dreams is vast; they swallow even contradictions one after another. Humanity effortlessly defies gravity, invites encounters with aliens, and peers into the abyss of infinitely splitting worlds without an oxygen tank. Ah, how envious. Being out of breath is something I'm unfamiliar with.
Maa-chan is the one who tries to live in that dream world while still being in reality.
"Hey, hey, what are you talking about? That's unrelated to my question, isn't it?"
"I'm not interested in justice, you see. If you want an answer, you should try asking 'Yatsu'."
"I don't think he's thinking about stuff like that either. Well, I don't know him that well, though."
I don't know anything about a guy like that either. The Kaneko living in reality would probably know him better.
I haven't seen that Kaneko in a long time, but I wonder if he's doing well. As far as I know, there was no sign of him being a corpse. But he's pretty low-key. He seems like the type to get caught in a traffic accident unrelated to any incidents. Exiting the stage without dying is the most like him.
"Bread."
"Huh?"
"Let's at least talk about something else. I'm not good with discussions on good and evil."
"Then what kind of topics do you like?"
"I like talking about bread, for instance."
After muttering that, I realize there's no clock in this room. Is it because there's no concept of time?
"Bread, you mean, like, that yeast stuff?"
"That fluffy stuff. Though yesterday, with that bread, I experienced the hell of having something pierce the back of my throat."
"Talking about bread, huh. How do you make it rise?"
"With yeast, of course."
A moment of silence. The reverberation of my joke makes me want to, how should I put it, break down the wall and escape.
"Wahah."
"Wahahaha."
"Yeah, that's it."
Even in a dream, Kaneko was pretty good at reading the room. Well, he's a Kaneko created from my impression of him, so.
"You know, sometimes. The time I've spent up until now feels like a dream."
"Oh? Kinda abrupt, we're back to a serious-sounding topic."
"I'm moody, you know. You know that, right?"
"Well, yeah, 'cause I'm the me inside your heart."
"That's right, so it's kind of silly to even talk about it... but will you listen?"
"Sure, whatever. As long as it's not too heavy or too complicated."
"I wonder about that," I sigh softly. I haven't really organized what I want to say or how. I look up at the ceiling. It's not a classroom ceiling; its color and texture are closer to a hospital's. What a shoddy construction.
Or maybe it's because I've spent so long staring at hospital ceilings.
"Living in dreams, and living in reality. Why is it that only the latter is accepted?"
"Well, that's 'cause, y'know, someone who's living in a dream world, from an outsider's perspective, just looks like they're sleeping. And humans, when they see others lazing around, they just get kinda pissed off. Especially if they're working their butts off. Humans, when it comes to negative stuff, they wish for equality, y'know?"
Kaneko, or rather, my image of him, drones on proudly.
"Besides, dreams are completely self-satisfying, right? Things that aren't productive are no good, isn't that it?"
"But, for someone who only produces trouble for others by living, wouldn't it be better for the world if they just slept?"
"Ah, that thing. You want to be useful to society? Maybe you should just stay quietly in your room."
"Are you saying that applies to you?"
To Kaneko's question, after a beat, I make the speaker tremble with a "Yeah."
"I am aware that, to other people, I am an utterly hopeless pest."
At this age, when I should know better, I at least understand that much.
That's why I've always wanted to live in a dream. I wish for it, yet reality drags me out of my dreams, and then that same reality rejects me. That whole setup pisses me off a little sometimes.
Though, there's someone else I should be much angrier at. But staying angry all the time is very difficult.
But I can't use that as an excuse to withdraw into dreams either. So, I'll keep on living.
"Even if you harm others?"
"It's better than causing trouble for myself, right?"
When I ask, Kaneko laughs. The sound radiates, and it felt like a pattern might emerge on my cheeks, caressed by the sound waves.
"If you live with self-satisfaction in mind, then even reality can become like a dream."
"If only I could push through to the end with that."
After agreeing with Kaneko, I deliberately raise my voice and laugh. How far can I push forward?
Holding Maa-chan, how far can I go in this unbearably harsh reality?
Ah, seriously, when I wake up, I'm going to be exhausted all over again, I think, feeling dejected.

I keep yawning in the dream, and it feels like I might just fall deeply asleep like this. In reality, that doesn't happen, though.
"I've always wondered, but you don't feel sleepy in dreams, do you?"
"Huh? What a weird question again."
"I'm supposed to be sleeping right now, yet only my dream is so lively. Isn't that strange?"
When I sleep, my dream should be sleeping too. Otherwise, it means I'm always awake. If the me in the dream and the me in reality were different people, I'd accept it, but if not, I object.
"The reason I've been so tired lately might be due to such circumstances."
"Nah, yours is just plain sleep deprivation."
"You think so, huh? Yesterday too, my girlfriend was so intense, she wouldn't let me sleep easily."
It's not a lie, but it's not conveying the precise meaning either, just a cheap laugh.
Well, this is about it, I guess. I'd actually like to immerse myself in the dream world a little longer, but...
"Is it dawn soon, I wonder? I'm starting to feel like I need to wake up. My body's getting hot, or rather, my eyelids are twitching on their own. There's a non-zero chance Maa-chan is playing a prank, so..."
"Oh, is that so? Well then, it's goodbye for now."
"For now? You plan on showing up again?"
"Probably, you'll come here from your end. See ya. Though I don't think I'll be your conversation partner next time."
"I wonder about that. I can call you again, you know."
"You want to call me?"
"Nah, I'm a little tired of it. So next time, I'll call someone who doesn't talk so listlessly."
As I reply, Kaneko's dry laughter travels through the speaker. It's sloppy, like the murky juice of a melting dream dripping from the ceiling, having lost its original form. I try to remember if Kaneko always felt like this, but I realize anew that I don't know much about him.
Kaneko, too, has joined the ranks of the world's mysteries. The time for him to be understood will likely never come.
The dream ends. Is that death? Every time I wake from sleep, am I killing the dream?
The me in the dream, and the me in reality. If our memories are connected, then where was I while I was sleeping?
I thought about such things, but with a just-woken-up head, it was impossible to think any further.
Breathing the outside air and facing reality, I once again realize the allure of the time machine in my brain. A possible, ideal future. Not everything, perhaps, but at least a past more peaceful and fulfilling than the present. Both can be as I wish, an attractive journey. Am I thinking, as I walk this path right now, that I want to cling to it? Even though such a wonderful reality is warming my hand. I glance sideways at Maa-chan's hand, which I'm holding.
"Maa-chan, if there was a time machine, would you want to ride it?"
When walking outside, Maa-chan wears a sullen expression, an attitude that seems to crush all her innocence and childishness. To my question, she quietly shook her head. Not sideways, but up and down. "Huh," I react softly.

"What era would you want to go to?"
"Like five seconds ago, or ten seconds ago. I'd bring lots of Mii-kuns."
"I see," I chuckled wryly. A very Maa-chan-like answer. Come to think of it, I feel like there was a Doraemon story that used a time machine like that. If I remember correctly, he brought his future self to help with work, and the punchline was that when he reached that future, his past self asked him for help.
I happened to see it on TV, but I liked that story. Among Doraemon's characters, Doraemon himself is my favorite, and since that episode had lots of Doraemons on screen, I liked it. Now, in addition to that, the paradoxes related to time travel are interesting.
Thinking about it makes my head spin and gets complicated, and seriously considering it involves adult circumstances, so I'll skip over that.
What about Maa-chan, though? Lots of Mii-kuns, all calling her Maa-chan.
That's what she desires. Why doesn't the contradiction of multiple identical people arise?
Or does she simply accept it, deeming it not a contradiction at all? Maa-chan's definition of Mii-kun is a mystery, so it doesn't seem like I can understand her any further. Ah, another mystery piles up.
In the end, a contradiction is just a state of being that the human heart cannot accept, and perhaps the world is more tolerant, readily accepting even chaotic things. In other words, Maa-chan is the world.
"Good girl, you! Whoosh!"
I abruptly lifted Maa-chan. We were currently in a deserted Ginza area, a short distance from the station front, a place where only night-shift security guards and people from the nightlife industry, ladies and gentlemen, were walking around. But, as expected, suddenly picking up my girlfriend and swinging her around probably made us stand out; some flashy ladies were looking at us. It seems better to refrain from standing out, I thought, putting the expressionless Maa-chan down and clearing my throat with a "Ahem."
I pull the hood of my parka down further. Maa-chan tilts her head slightly and asks about my earlier praise, "Am I great?" "You are indeed," I said, patting her head. She looked faintly pleased.
.....Ah, and yesterday, Maa-chan was really worked up. As for me, I'd like you to guess.
For now, my hips and butt ache from sitting for so long. And my neck, maybe I slept on it wrong, it's hard to turn left. My physical condition, which should have recovered for a bit, has relapsed to its worst, and I've been sighing and groaning since early this morning.
"By the way, where do you want to go?"
After checking out of the hotel, we started walking aimlessly, but we hadn't decided on a destination. And while I'm at it, we don't have a place to stay tonight either. Going back home is a bit, well...
Maa-chan looks up at me and opens her mouth, speaking softly. Such an extreme shift in attitude.
"Sweet potato digging. We promised we'd go again with Mii-kun when autumn came."
"...Ah, I think something like that did happen. But sweet potato digging, huh. It's fine, but, hmm!"
For a high schooler's date spot, isn't that a bit too much "dumplings over flowers"? Our clothes will get dirty with soil too.

Squeeze, she gripped my hand tightly. "What are you objecting to?" a warning-like intention was conveyed.
Is it an illusion? I peek at her face, but like hard stones nestled together, her expression doesn't change. I even feel like the frequency of her blinking has decreased, and I start to worry if her eyes will get dry.
I forget what grade of elementary school it was, but I have a memory of going sweet potato digging as part of a class. Where was that place? I try to remember while looking up at the persistently overcast sky. The long rain has stopped, but sunny skies are on hold for a while. The temperature has been low since this morning, and I long for the sun's light.
"...Ah, I remember. Near the kindergarten. In that case, we're going the wrong way."
We turn around and head back across the crosswalk we were about to cross. Maa-chan expresses neither opposition nor agreement, silently letting me lead her by the hand. If she knew the destination, she could have told me we were going the wrong way, but then again, maybe Maa-chan isn't familiar with the area around the station. When we were elementary school age, we had no business in a region like this. So, it's not unreasonable if she doesn't know.
"I wonder if they'll let us dig without a reservation."
When I say that, Maa-chan's face seemed to cloud over.
"If they say no, we can just dig on our own, right?"
When I added that cheerfully, Maa-chan's face brightened. "Good, good," I puff out my chest in relief.
Mid-October, the morning news said the temperature was lower than usual for this time of year. There weren't enough people to describe as "coming and going"; only cars drove by sporadically. This was once the most prosperous place in town. Ginza. Now it's a shuttered shopping street, generally grimy. Like a theater that has permanently dimmed its lights.
We walk the streets of this town, inhaling the kind of gloominess that would startle you right away, as cold air through our noses and mouths. The fact that I can keep from being discouraged by it is thanks to Maa-chan holding my hand; I have no argument with that.
However, well.
Here I am again today, half-abandoning what I should originally be doing, carefree sweet potato digging, huh? I don't want to think that rescuing Maa-chan was a mistake, but maybe I should have finished everything else first.
But no, it's a fact that I can't feel at ease unless Maa-chan is by my side. Therefore, this is fine.
To be dismayed that the result is getting covered in dirt would be too hasty.
Perhaps Maa-chan intends to dig not just for potatoes, but for memories.
Imagining that, my reasons for refusing vanished. *Clang.*
Along the way, at a casual moment, the time machine in my head activated. It was when we passed by a kindergarten unrelated to where I used to go. I think I came here once for work experience.
The middle school I attended had an event called "work experience," where we had to go out and work at assigned workplaces on a weekday. Even though it was only for a day, I was grateful to skip classes, but the content—dealing with children at a kindergarten—didn't lift my spirits.

I envied the other guys who went to work at paper mills or rice cracker factories. Dealing with machines is better than humans, especially children. Machines don't get attached to me, you see, which is convenient.
While grumbling, it was a school event, so I couldn't avoid it. I reluctantly participated, biked to a somewhat distant kindergarten, and stepped into a space teeming with children, like bamboo shoots after the rain... but the trouble was, for some reason, the children took an unusual liking to me.
Children have no discerning eye. And while I'm at it, the adults who entrust children to me are blind as bats too.
"...Employment, huh? What a headache."
Who would hire someone like me? And yet, if I don't work, I can't eat. It's probably young people like me, at a dead end in life but overflowing with only stamina and recklessness, who commit robbery, theft, and the like. Or so I think, like some TV pundit, without meaning it.
Conclusion: youth are no good.
Unlike the elderly, young people have a future, they think they can start over, and that's probably why they criticize so freely. But young people, too, are living days that can't be redone, that much is true. In my case, rather, my irredeemable life is already far too long.
Come to think of it, though it's completely unrelated, I wonder what Maa-chan did for her work experience.
At the time, I had no contact with Maa-chan, so I have no idea what workplace she experienced, or if she even participated from the start and just slept in her apartment. It's not like I'm Maa-chan's stalker or anything. Though that might not sound very convincing. Yeah, maybe not.
While I was thinking about this and that, the time machine, end of transmission.
"Well now, we've arrived at the agricultural experiment station."
I mutter, facing a remarkably cheap-looking white building that seemed like it could be made of styrofoam. "It's still here, huh?" was my first thought. I rarely come this way.
In the first place, I'm not that proactive about going out in town itself. Especially recently.
"Excuse me~, please give us some potatoes."
I knock on the door of the experiment station and make, even to my own ears, a terribly blunt and rude request. Perhaps because it's close to early morning, it seems no one is inside, so we reached the conclusion, "Shall we dig on our own?" "Yeah." No need to wait long for an answer. We head to the sweet potato field behind the agricultural experiment station. And what do you know, sweet potatoes, buried—or rather, growing—in the tilled soil, are lying around all over the place. Woohoo, all-you-can-steal.
"Is it really okay to be brazenly pulling them out in a place with no cover like this?"
I quickly assess the reality. I've seen foreigners on bicycles stealing daikon radishes from fields early in the morning; this isn't much different. Ignoring me standing there dumbfounded, Maa-chan, crouching in the center of the field, digs her fingers into the soil. By the time I think that perhaps preparing gloves would have kept her pretty hands from getting dirty, soil had already gotten under Maa-chan's fingernails. *Zakka-zakka*, she begins to dig without hesitation. She looked up at me without stopping her hands, so I called out, "Alright, alright, I'm coming!" and jogged over, crouching beside her. No, maybe it's better if we face each other, I thought, shifting around while still crouching.

I looked for tools, but there was no way any would be found, so I, too, imitated Maa-chan and dug into the soil with my fingers. It's been a while since my fingertips directly touched soil, I think. I thought I had graduated from things like playing in the dirt or mud, but touching it like this, its coldness is unique, and nostalgic. I move my fingers busily, parting the soft parts of the soil. An earthworm appeared. I flicked it with my finger, and the earthworm, struggling, moved away. Good riddance.
I don't care about the worm's whereabouts and immediately look away. I dig into the soil, *gari-gari*, and pull out a sweet potato that feels like it hasn't fully grown yet. I hesitated whether to brush off the dirt, but I hand it to Maa-chan as is. Maa-chan is expressionless, and I don't know what she's thinking, but she took the potato, so I convince myself this is fine. If possible, I'd like to leave this place quickly.
It would be bad if we were seen, for various reasons. ...If 'Yatsu' were to witness this situation, what would he feel? What kind of impression would he express? He probably wouldn't make fun of us, but he'd almost certainly be dumbfounded.
"Mii-kun, dig up the next one too."
Beckoning slightly with her hand, Maa-chan starts to secure another potato. How many potatoes does this girl want? Buying them at the supermarket probably wouldn't have the same meaning. For Maa-chan, who continues to live in her dreams, this is a time machine. An important escape from reality, to immerse herself in memories.
I look around, glare back at the intense gaze from an old man passing by on a bicycle in front of the kindergarten, and make up my mind. I take out the knife I had hidden between my waistband and trousers for protection and thrust it into the soil. As if gouging it out, I dig through the soil with the tip of the knife. Quickly,とにかく, swiftly, I clench my teeth and put strength into the hand gripping the knife's handle. If I happened to sever an earthworm lurking in the soil along the way, I couldn't care less. It's the earthworm's fault for being there, unfortunately.
*Gash, gash,* I send dirt flying and dig out the potato. It's a short act, but sweat was seeping out on my back. I hand the potato to Maa-chan with a "Here." "Alright, which one's next?" As I re-grip the knife, which was about to slip from my sweaty hand, Maa-chan, holding a thin, dirt-covered potato in both hands, calmly states the next plan. However, her cheeks were just a tiny bit relaxed—ah, in other words, she was smiling.
"We'll make baked sweet potatoes."
"Bake them? Fire, fire... what should we do?"
I'm not a smoker, so I don't carry matches or a lighter. I don't have any Boy Scout experience either, so I haven't practiced starting a fire. Come to think of it, I remember hearing sometime that Kaneko was in the Boy Scouts and participated in camping activities. Or was that secondhand information? I forgot.
"Somewhere, or rather, should we go into a house and borrow some fire... Ah, by any chance, do we have to bake them over a bonfire?"
"Mhm, mhm," Maa-chan nods curtly. The difficulty level just went up again. In my head, in my dreams, flames would flare up instantly, but when you factor in reality, it's difficult, Maa-chan. And there aren't any fallen leaves or anything.