Chapter Text
When a star dies, nobody even notices.
So far off, so distant, that it's centuries before people on Earth can even tell the light's finally flickered out, gone forever.
But if that star was the sun, they'd know oh would they know the very second they saw it supernova. Of course, that's not how the sun dies not that they'd care. No, our star isn't so lucky. Instead, when it can no longer glow gold, it slowly painfully bloats out into a red giant over a billion years. Having exhausted all its hydrogen, it grows hungry, eating up everything within reach, Mercury, Venus, maybe hopefully even the Earth. And when it has swelled to its largest size, when it cannot consume anything more when it just hurts too much, it sheds its own skin, peeling away a husk of hot helium that dissipates into a planetary nebula. At the center, the matter that remains all that's left. . . a white hot core, half the mass of the sun squeezed into something the size of the Earth like a billion human beings stuffed into a single body. And then, nothing happens for a long time at least, it looks like nothing; in the desolate darkness of empty space, that cold light burns so much longer than it did when it was still full and golden that time had been far too short, just shining for trillions of years, for eons, all alone without me. . .
It suffers every second (please. . .) until it finally (don't. . .) allows itself to stop, to dim, and darken, and fade away. . . forever. . . laid to rest in the abysmal void. . . . . .
(I'm so sorry)
Yes, it is the destiny of most stars to turn black. They are rarely given the honor of such a spectacular and innocent death as the one we are so often lead to believe. That's why we don't even blink when one disappears. If that light had been legitimate, truly extraordinary like an "actual star", then it would have never dimmed, never been dirtied. No, never. Even though stars are as finite as everything else that's ever existed. Even though they're born from the same dirt and dust as we are.
Yes, we ourselves were born from their remains, our very lives and futures made possible by their sacrifice isn't that a miracle?, yet still. . . nobody even notices. . . when a star dies. . .
I'm a good girl. I read books and listen in class. That's why I know these things.
*
NORIKO
January 2000
At the time, the fog was too thick in my head to make out coherent thoughts, and my eyelids refused to open, weighed down by an exhaustion so heavy that I didn't even attempt to lift them. But, even in that haze, I can still remember it so clearly. . . that sound, a careful intonation. . . the icy warm voice that rang out, low and soft, with a sentiment I had never heard in it before. . .
"I'm sorry Noriko...I'm so so sorry. . . "
'Don't say that, please don't say that, it was. . . my fault, all...mine. . .' The last phrases I managed to think before my mind clouded over completely once more...weird dreams. . .
I came to surrounded by people, faces of adults I'd vaguely remembered from a couple days before, pretty much complete strangers. The sight of them sent me spinning, my vision once again growing fuzzy, blurring at the edges. Terror twisted up the guts and muscles in my abdomen as sweat crawled over my skin like an army of ants. I could scarcely breathe tasting the nausea tingling on my tongue. A million vivid questions seemed to whirl around as I tried to regain a grasp on lucidity. Who are these people? What have they done to me and why? Where even am I? I shut my eyes and tried desperately to remember those events that had lead me to this situation, but my mind only brought up strange and dark images. Vague, shifting shapes, but one very, very distinct feeling. My stomach flipped. Yes, the feeling of hate overpowered everything else. Horrible, terrible, disgusting, sickening, vile. An evil I made in me to. . . to finally give those men what they deserved. Because they were the pathetic ones, the scum, the real lowlifes, not. . . not her. . . never her. Not the last person left in this world that, that I could still say 'I love you' to and mean every breath of it (from the bottom of my heart). I had to do it, I had to prove it. Because it was all I could do, because every movement she made seemed to brim with pain, because she smiled more with him than she did with me, because she was. . . going to leave me all alone.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm—
My watery eyes burst open, overflowing as they swarmed around the room, soaking in the endless blue that carpeted the entirety of the space.
"Noriko?"
Ah...
A calmness overcame me as I craned my neck back at the cool, crisp cadence of such a refreshing voice, to meet the face that matched.
Anna.
Her usually piercing azure eyes seemed to blend into the background, though I could tell they were staring back at me with an uncharacteristic softness, her gaze heavy with concern.
'Pretty, as always. . .' I cooed somewhere in the back of my mind. Feather-light fingers brushed away the thin trail of tears. The frission made me shudder. At that moment, I could finally feel the gentle jostling of skin and fabric beneath me, found my head resting on her lap. A bit of warmth spread over my face as I sprang to attention.
"O-Onee-sama??"
Anna kept a set of tender eyes on me, simply nodding her head as she stood up and proceeded to hold out a hand to help me steady myself. Her strained face seemed to have eased a bit. I felt some small sense of relief as well, but still. . .
"Why are you...why am I. . . "
"Don't worry...You're no longer a Joker...These people saved you."
Joker. That one word connected everything together. The realization finally forced out the bitter guilt bubbling up in the back of my throat, making me vocalize my most immediate thought.
"(sniff)...I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm...I'm. . ."
I sobbed pleadingly into her chest, begging for forgiveness. It was then, down in the depths of my heart, that a deep-seated dread welled up.
What I've done can't be undone.
The damage I'd inflicted upon Anna was irreversible. My immature meddling just made everything worse for her. So much worse. Scars on scars on scars. She'd never look at me again. Because. . . because it would remind her of all of these things. These things I'd done to her. Things I could never take back.That were my fault. . . all mine. . .
We had stayed in that embrace for just a few moments before gentle arms reached out to grasp my shoulders. Turning to look at the warm-faced woman who'd been standing beside us, Anna wore an expression I couldn't quite read, almost somber, but, not quite, and then, and then. . . she pushed me away. . .
Rejection. Of course. . . the things I've done are unforgivable. I've caused so many problems for her. It's understandable that she'd hate me. Of course, why did I ever think—
Anna quickly turned around and strode over to one of the adults, a man wearing red sunglasses. I think, I remembered him from school that day the police showed up. Wasn't he one of those officers? What did Anna want from him. . .
The woman beside me, clad in a flashy top and miniskirt, touched my shoulder and turned towards me.
"It'll be alright, okay? Just think positive!"
She motioned her arms so energetically, I couldn't help but force a weak smile as I nodded along. Even though her words weren't believable.
"Are...you going to arrest Noriko?"
I turned to the sound of Anna's voice. She had asked the officer matter-of-factly, firm and resolute with a hand on her hip. The nonchalant manner with which she spoke stung. She truly hates me. It's justified, it shouldn't hurt, but it does. I don't want to hear this.
"Everyone is innocent until proven guilty...We'll keep her under protective custody for the time being. . ." the man replied.
I honestly didn't care what was going to happen to me. It doesn't matter. If there's a punishment, I deserve it. I know I'm bad, I'm cruel, I'm redeemable, I'm dirty, I'm—
"Thank you. . ."
Anna's statement of gratitude tore through my vicious thoughts. A release of pressure, a wave of relief. I heard it in her voice and I. . . I could see it. From behind, I could see her chest heave and her body shudder as she used her arm to wipe away the tears. She was. . . crying...crying for my sake? The adults muttered amongst themselves but all I could think about was Anna's reaction. Never had I seen her break down like this for any reason, out of sadness or anger, let alone. . . joy? Joy. Anna was happy that I wasn't going to be punished. Shouldn't she hate me for all the trouble I've caused, all the awful things I've done in her name. Shouldn't she? Why...why was she so worried about me. . .
"Alright!! Then let's go!"
In my daze, our current chaperones had all grouped together, readying to leave.
And it was then that I realized this was my last chance, to say what I needed to say. So I jerked forward, stumbling over half-formed words. The only one who turned around was a woman in green with shocks of white running through her red hair. Her beauty mark caught my eye.
"Th-thank you," I stuttered, "thank you very much, for helping me." The woman smiled. Light and pretty and just a bit pointed. She lowered her head as she spoke, "Ah, but I've done nothing worth thanking me for. I just couldn't leave you alone." The smile tightened as her eyes trailed along the ground.
"Cuz I was involved."
Her line of sight shifted slightly, still on the floor, but now a bit behind, turned some degrees.
"Let's all do our best against Joker."
I glanced at the cheery woman hovering just beyond her left shoulder before nodding. Confession and atonement. I understood the need too well.
Then they all left with no more guilt-heavy admittances.
*
I was brought to attention by the harsh snap of a flip phone and the pressure of another's hand on mine.
"I had a chat with that police guy," Anna said, "He's Tatsuya's brother so he's letting us of the hook."
She held my hand delicately as she spoke, the subtle circling movements of her fingertips on my palm soothing me along with her voice.
"Said it's okay for us to just go as long as I watch over you and call him if anything happens."
With that, she gripped my hand firmly and pulled me up. The adults had long since left the. . . the Velvet Room? Or whatever this place was called, leaving Anna and me to rest for a while. I'd just sat on the sofa, silently. An obedient child.
"Is that really what he said?"
Anna simply stared back at me with that sharp look of hers, the one that always made it impossible to tell if she was lying.
"Okay then, let's go," I sighed, trying to hide a weak smile.
Time seemed to pass differently cooped up in that room. For when we returned to the outside world, it was dark, the nearly pitch-black alley lit by a single streetlamp. Yumezaki's main road blazed far ahead of us, bright from the glow of fluorescent lights and flashing signs. The air was icy, already numbing the fingers on my left hand. It didn't matter to me though. I tried not to think about the hand tugging me along, the one keeping my right hand from freezing.
The switch from dark to light nearly blinded me. On the street, some people were already fast asleep. Others were up and about, wobbly and drunk. A couple of them approached us, laughing and making gestures I'd rather not describe. But it only took one glare from Anna and they were gone.
The two of us walked down the street together, Anna continuing to grip my hand like a vice. Though, I still tried to stay a bit behind out of some lingering nervousness. Although Anna was taller than me, her pace was quite a bit slower, her right leg trailing her left one as she walked. I tried my best to match her speed.
From behind, I could look at her without meeting her gaze, see the edges of her face stand out against hazy neon. A sharp side profile. She was too focused on moving forward to pay me much mind. 'Or maybe', I thought, 'she's ashamed to look at me.' It was easier to think that than imagine, other possibilities, as if she did it to spare me shame. As if she'd take my own anxiety into account. I don't deserve to even entertain the thought.
Cars passed by us here and there, their black windows catching the city lights. In them I avoided staring at my own faceless reflection repeated over and over again, instead focusing on the shapes and signs swimming behind me. Turning to the side, I scrutinized the scenery. Strange, and ominous, but somehow. . . all too familiar. I felt my eyes widen with recognition. Yes, the path was dark but not unknown. The fastest road from Yumezaki to Hirasaka. I'd walked it so many times in the daylight, I could tell from the weeds and the potholes and the cracks in the pavement.
"Are. . . are you taking me to my house?" I asked.
Anna finally looked back as I quickly tried to make myself small.
"Yes."
She turned forward again and blew a smoky breath out into frigid air.
"The trains've stopped running by now and I don't feel like trusting some random taxi this late. . ."
A deep sigh rose from her chest.
"Especially tonight."
I squeezed her hand and slowed my pace. There was a pressure in my lungs.
"I don't want you to."
For the first time since our departure, there was resistance. Some semblance of will.
"Hmm..." She still tried to push ahead.
I squeezed harder.
I don't want to go home. I don't want to see mom and dad. I don't want you to drop me off and leave me all alone.
"You don't want me to take you home? But...I can't let you go by yourself."
My head shook quicker than I could think. That's not it. I'm more selfish than that. I wanted to shout it.
"Oh." She hesitated.
In the interim of her blinks and breaths, I felt the sweat and the shame soaking every centimeter of my skin. I lost sight of the street and the cars and all the lights. All of them, everything, just a blur. . . as if I wasn't even there.
One firm squeeze brought me back.
"Alright, then I'll take you to my house." Anna exhaled as she loosened her grip.
"It's easier anyway."
My head moved up and down, automatic, mechanical. I could still feel something sticking to my skin.
*
I remember. . . I'd been using one of my mom's outdated medical magazines to fan myself on that sticky night during summer break. The night I first saw her. It was on TV, some random sports news report from a few days earlier. The coach from my junior high's track and field club had recommended that all us members watch it, and I'd listened, of course. Back then, running was just another school obligation, an easy hobby, something to pass the time, keep fit, maybe add as a footnote to my college application. I was decent at it, it was enjoyable enough, and that was all.
". . . and in lane 5, an up-and-coming star, Anna Yoshizaka, the breakout freshman from Seven Sisters High School in Sumaru City. . ."
Sumaru huh? A star from our own town.
". . . champion of Kanagawa Prefecture. . ."
Wow.
". . . and the top qualifier for the women's 100 meters here at Japan's 50th InterHigh Nationals. . ."
WOW!
My eyes were glued to the screen. I needed to see this girl barely older than me, from the same city, who'd already run her way to the top of a nation.
"Hi, the name's Anna."
A brief interview played before the race. The short-haired girl speaking looked older than she was, somehow more mature, with a hard face and stone blue eyes that cut cold as lapis daggers. Like a knife that finds its home in the heart, her gaze pierced straight through. No struggle, no resistance.
'What a pretty girl. . .' I'd thought. I lingered on the feeling of faint warmth in my cheeks.
"I don't do things halfway, I'm going to be the fastest in Japan and make it all the way to the Olympics."
The way she spoke revealed her true age, a high and youthful voice speaking in a manner quite rebellious and perhaps a tad conceited. The innocent arrogance of a child prodigy.
'So cool,' I'd thought, a grin widening across my face. I had to hold my teeth tight together to keep myself from giggling too uncontrollably.
But that was all before. Before those things really meant anything to me.
Before I heard the starting gun.
After that, it all matters. It's like, I'm blinded. There's lots of other runners, but I can't see any of them. Only one body seems to be shooting across the screen. She stands out. She's special. Because. . . because she enjoys running more than anyone else. I just know it. The effort, the joy, in each spring and step and surge forward. The rise of her chest, swelling with air and exhilaration. It's like feeling the pull of the sun, you know, the weight of it. And you can feel that heat, dazzlingly radiant. Her running figure flares with purpose, pure incandescence, unyielding as the force of gravity itself; the others are just specks of dust in comparison.
So when she blazes straight through the tape mere seconds from the start, beaming with sweat and that honest honest bliss, first place just a secondary consolation, I know.
A dream so far, so high, it shoots through the heavens. A star burning so bright, she's destined to chase down that dream, catching it, holding it in her own hands. How romantic! My heart sings against my ribs. I want to touch that star. Ignite my own ambition in that glorious heat.
And so, I decide to train.
August 1997
*
An hour had passed before our feet finally moved from asphalt to creaky gravel, finding the familar path along the Tanabata River leading to Anna's home in Rengedai.
I spotted the bridge across far off in the distance.
"You could've been seriously hurt," Anna finally spoke, breaking our miles of silence. "Or worse. . ."
"Does that. . . matter?"
I tried to focus on the crunch of sticks and stones shifting underneath my sneakers.
"I would've never been able to see you again."
'Then I wouldn't be around to bother you anymore,' I wanted to say, but I just, couldn't. I didn't have the guts. Of course, of course, I've always been a coward. Every "act of courage" worthy of praise was just faked bravado. Each and every one. . .
"A-all I've ever done was give you grief," I finally managed to choke out. Always hurting more than helping. Always. ALWAYS.
"It's better to, not see people who've hurt you, isn't it? I'd rather, you stop thinking about me. I'd rather b—"
"Be forgotten?" Anna interrupted, as though she'd purposefully practiced it.
I'm not as clever as I'd like to think. But that doesn't really matter.
"Y-yes," was my meek reply.
"Well, that's not your choice to make."
She paused for a single moment before continuing, a faint tremor on her lips.
"Life doesn't, work that way."
I caught a glimpse of Anna hunched over, shaking as she said those words. As if she was trying to make herself believe them too.
*
We got to her house sometime before dawn.
Anna pulled out a key from her skirt pocket and turned the lock with a loud click she didn't even attempt to disguise.
The house was dark, so very dark. It was early morning so that was to be expected. I wondered for a moment why such an obvious thing struck me as odd. Perhaps it wasn't about the house at all. Rather, it was the thought that a high school girl could arrive so late at night without fear of the worried faces of her mother and father. Something like that. . .
Anna led me up the stairs, past one room, then another, until we reached the door at the end of the hall. With a heavy-handed thud, she turned the knob and the two of us slipped inside. She opened a drawer from the nearby dresser and pulled out an oversized shirt I immediately recognized from the seven black stars emblazoned on the left breast.
"Here," she said, facing away from me, "you can wear this."
The shirt was set down in my hands with a sense of purpose, strategically done so our fingers wouldn't brush by accident. I acquiesced to the intention, bowing my head low. The fabric felt heavy in my hands. She pulled out the futon from beneath her bed as I changed in the corner. Through the sounds of cloth against cloth, the unzipping of my jacket punctuated the air.
"You sleep up top. I'll be down here." Her back was still turned to me.
"Are you sure?"
She proceeded to slump onto the floor, her face buried in the pillow. Though muffled, her words came out clear enough.
"I'm tired."
I carefully stepped over her body and onto the bed, creeping under the comforter as quickly as I could. The silk sheets were stiff with the chill of the air. Goosebumps bubbled on my skin.
I'd never so badly wanted to fall asleep without a word.
"You know..." Anna's voice cut through the cold, "it was Chika, who called me."
Something in my chest froze. I didn't know if it was what I remembered or what I was told, but I could, with some clarity, imagine what I had done. I could imagine all the people in the hospital.
"She was really scared."
And then the images came to life and I could see them, feel them, the visceral physicality of the horrors I'd committed in all their gruesome detail, and it made me sick, sick, sick. Clenching the sheets with trembling white knuckles, I felt on the verge of vomiting. Chika, Chika, if I hurt you I—
"She was worried about you."
My fingers unclenched.
In a way it's worse. In a way it confirms all my expectations, at least, the hopes I'd hoped to God against. In a way it's simply another thing feeding into the thought that everyone would be better off if I had never been born.
They would, wouldn't they. . .
"Just thought you should know," she said. So don't misunderstand me. "Goodnight"
"Goodnight."
I tried the best I could to muffle the sounds as my face burned hot and wet under the covers.
*
February 1998
It was as if I had changed over night, at least, that's what parents described it as. Even though I felt the same inside as I always did. When I committed myself to something, I always went all the way, 110%. The goal was just more obvious, I suppose. Or the results finally mattered to them, I don't know. I didn't do it for them. Running my legs into the ground seven days a week, fine-tuning each minuscule aspect of my diet, studying every free minute for the entrance exams, it was all for something else. Just to be in the same school, on the same team, on the same track. Like wishing upon a shooting star. And my wish was granted.
Halfway through winter, several weeks after the exams, I finally received my long-awaited acceptance letter. Holding the envelope in my hands, it really did feel like I had caught a falling star, as if magic truly danced through the sheets of crisp, otherworldly white fluttering between my fingers. Maybe like a miracle. . .
To congratulate me on this extraordinary success, my parents immediately planned a visit with our relatives in Tateshina. I was even able to convince them to let me skip classes for a couple of days, since there wasn't really any curriculum left until junior high graduation. Because all this was happening near the tail end of the Nagano Winter Olympics, giving us the rare and exciting opportunity to see some of the Games before journeying out to the nearby countryside to celebrate with our extended family. We were to leave Thursday, February 19, taking the 4 hour drive from Sumaru to Nagano the second I got out of school that day, staying overnight at a hotel in the city. On Friday, I was going to watch the women's figure skating finals, because of all the winter events, that was the one I had always been mesmerized by. The outfits, the choreography, the zeal of performance; I begged my parents to spectate. And they had obliged, not in any small part due to my recent acceptance into such a prestigious high school.
Actually, it had been my whole idea to stop by Nagano in the first place, having booked a single ticket with my own savings months before. I didn't know how I'd get there then, but I'd been so invigorated with all my training, beaming with that newfound spirit of sportsmanship, that I wasn't really thinking. Or maybe, that hot nervous energy permeating my whole being had been something else, something else entirely. . . because, one day, I hoped to enjoy the honor of coming here, to the Olympics, with a fellow student, a participating athlete...with Yoshizaka-san, with Anna. I hadn't even met her, yet I burned with the passion to see her compete in person. A fire that would light up the world stage, I could imagine it then...so I wanted to prepare myself for the crowds and the cheering, the loudness and pressure of it all, since this was such a rare occasion to easily experience everything this close to home. So I'd know what to expect...so I could make sure Anna knew what to expect. . . so she could do her very best. My thinking back then embarrasses me now. It was all so silly...such silly, dumb thoughts, so stupid. . . so so stupid. . . . . . I hate that stupid little girl.
My parents left to go to walk around the city while I ran down to watch the free skate. I let my eyes scan over the crowds, taking in all the sights and sounds of the people busying by. People from all over the world, not just Japan. Not just this one little place.
I rubbed my gloved hands together and blew a hot breath in-between my fingers, huddling into myself for the security of warmth. And then I started walking to the entrance. . . only to stop again.
It truly is some sort of miracle, to see a lone star glittering in the expanse of nothingness. As if it shines just for you. That's what she looks like, standing in the crowds of people flooding in from this rink to that. Singular, solitary, far away from here, lost in some pamphlet held between her fingers. Just about to vanish without a trace.
And I can't afford to let miracles slip me by.
*