My Girlfriend is a Death Row Inmate

Chapter 36 – Halfway Along the Darkened Path

・Karakiri-san.

It’s one of the urban legends of Kidatsu City. In terms of form, it’s like a chain letter, but without the continuity.

The target is the person who opens a letter with a specific message. It is said that the target’s mental state will gradually deteriorate over a period of days, and no one has ever survived ‘Karakiri-san.’ Those who talk about it are either just spreading rumors without knowing the truth, or adding their own interpretations to half-truths.

There’s only one way to deal with ‘Karakiri-san.’ You have to find its real name. Since ‘Karakiri-san’ has something written before ‘kiri,’ you just have to find it. If you can find its real name, it is said that you should call it by that name, and it will leave you alone.”

I’ve never seen the letter myself, but according to the text, ‘On the night of the seventh month, at the witching hour of ox-three,’ in other words, a week later. That’s the deadline. It’s frustrating that I can’t experience it directly, but unlike school ghost stories, it’s not something you can encounter by chance, so there’s no choice. ‘Karakiri-san’ is not a ghost that haunts a specific place, but rather a curse that resides in the letter itself. If you think about it as everyone who reads the letter being targeted, it’s a bit like chain mail.

It’s an old story, so I can’t quite grasp the whole picture. According to one theory, it’s the true identity of the disappearances in this area, but there are a lot of mysteries. If the Slit-Mouthed Woman has a model, then this curse must also have an origin.

You can’t just search for its real name on the internet. If it’s the type of curse that involves information related to the anomaly itself, then the answer must be somewhere in this city, but it’s a big place.

The keyword is probably ‘letter.’

“What’s this?”

During lunch break, after evading Kusune’s pursuit, I visited Miharu-senpai’s class and immediately showed her the notebook to share information. The upperclassmen didn’t seem too happy about the mysterious kouhai who was chatting casually with Miharu-senpai, who was apparently quite popular among her classmates like an idol.

But they probably didn’t know that Miharu-senpai was so thin that her ribs were showing. The swimming lessons were still a little while away, and I was probably the only one who knew. I needed to do something before then…

No, I had a clear deadline because I was targeted by ‘Karakiri-san.’

“It’s something I got from a friend who loves urban legends. The wording is a bit hard to understand, but please bear with it.”

“So you have a nice friend, Kouhai-kun.”

“He’s not that nice. But if he can help you, senpai, then maybe he is.”

I felt genuinely happy for him. He wasn’t the type to be bullied, but because of his strange hobbies, he wasn’t often acknowledged by others. It was a shame that I couldn’t tell him about this, but I wanted to believe that he knew somehow.

“What do you mean by ‘Karakiri-san’ being a curse that resides in the letter itself? I’m sorry, I’m not very knowledgeable about that kind of thing…”

“Hmm, do you watch a lot of spiritual programs, Miharu-senpai?”

“Not a lot, but I do watch them sometimes if they seem interesting.”

“Then you might be able to imagine it better. You know how they often go to shrines or other places during the filming and use things like hair as a vessel to channel the curse, right?”

As I explained, something started to bother me. Was it just a bad example? However, if we consider ‘Karakiri-san’ to be a curse that resides in the letter itself, something about it didn’t sit right with me.

“Is something wrong?”

“………… It’s just that the word ‘letter’ keeps bothering me.”

While urban legends often involve unrealistic entities, most of them originate from rumors or the land itself. And most anomalies are either hostile or neutral, and they certainly don’t help humans. Ghost stories are, by nature, created by people to scare others, and it wouldn’t make sense for an anomaly, which is the embodiment of such stories, to be friendly.

　……？

I couldn’t shake this feeling of unease. It was clear yet vague, and I struggled to put it into words. It was like trying to understand a subject I was bad at in school—frustrating and uncomfortable. I knew no one would understand this feeling.

“But that’s strange.”

“What is?”

“If I’m not mistaken, ‘Karakiri-san’ is supposed to target me and make me weak, right? Then what’s with that broadcast that only I can hear? Why are you inviting me to your house, Kouhai-kun?”

“………… Now that you mention it, you’re right.”

Was the broadcast not the work of ‘Karakiri-san’? I’ve never heard of someone encountering the Slit-Mouthed Woman and Hanako-san at the same time. It was unthinkable for two anomalies to appear simultaneously, and the fact that it specifically targeted me meant it was no longer an anomaly.

“If it’s targeting me, why would it involve Miharu-senpai? We didn’t have any connection until now… By the way, can you still hear it?”

“Yes, I can hear it. I wish I could just destroy my ears… But since you’re the only exception, Kouhai-kun, I’m somehow managing to stay sane.”

“…………”

The letter that was supposed to be opened by Ruri—I still hadn’t opened it myself. The voice that was tormenting Miharu-senpai was probably the ‘mark of the target.’ What came to mind was the bug clump that had severely affected Ruri’s mood. Perhaps the culprit had put it there to avoid targeting anyone else.

No, I just couldn’t connect the dots. I didn’t understand why Miharu-senpai was being targeted. Moreover, I didn’t understand why the ‘voice’ was specifically searching for me. There were too many things I didn’t understand.

“…… Actually, I also received a strange letter today.”

“A letter? Is it from someone you know, or…?”

“My social circle is quite small. It’s most likely the same as the one you received, senpai.”

I hadn’t read the contents, but I was certain it was the same based on the fact that it was interfering with Ruri and that the school broadcast was specifically targeting me. It wasn’t a guess, but a near-certainty. However, what I didn’t understand was why ‘Karakiri-san’ would not only make someone disappear but also disrupt the school broadcast and target a specific person. At least Housuke didn’t know about this.

What made the situation even more complicated was that we had no choice but to assume that these two incidents were connected. So, I decided to confirm it.

I took the crumpled letter out of my pocket and opened it without hesitation in front of Miharu-senpai.

“Eh! You’re opening it!? Why!?”

“…………”

I didn’t answer her question. She was probably curious about what was written on the paper I had taken out. Senpai leaned forward and looked at the text with me. One of the corners was slightly torn, as if eaten by bugs, but it didn’t affect the text at all.

As expected, there were no changes. It was exactly the same text, word for word.

This confirmed that I was now a target as well, but I had discovered something. The ‘Kounai broadcast’ that was mentally tormenting Miharu-senpai was definitely something else. If I believed in Housuke’s legacy, I was absolutely a target. But I couldn’t hear anything, and there were no changes at all. Nothing had changed.

“………… Senpai, did you start hearing that broadcast as soon as you opened the letter?”

“Of course! That’s why I was so confused… I was really scared, you know.”

To be honest, I was relieved. Even though I had steeled myself, the thought of hearing that broadcast from the third-year student’s mouth from this moment on was like a scene from hell. I respected her for that. Despite her emaciated appearance, she didn’t seem mentally ill or unstable. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to endure hearing that broadcast from everyone but her for even a second, let alone a minute. Even if I tried my best, I could only last a day… No, it would be impossible. I couldn’t bear it if I heard it from Shizuku too. An hour would be my absolute limit.

My expression, which showed that I wasn’t entirely convinced, made Miharu-senpai narrow her eyes suspiciously.

“…… You can’t hear it?”

“―――Yes.”

“Then what’s this!?”

“………… I don’t know.”

I had thought that Housuke’s legacy would be enough, but this was useless. While I hadn’t been involved in this kind of thing for a long time, I lacked the knowledge. All I could say was that I didn’t know anything that wasn’t written in the book.

It was like a man who thought he was on a big ship only to find out it was a small boat—it wasn’t funny at all. I felt embarrassed, but there was nothing I could do. And now that I had decided to get involved, I couldn’t back down. I had just cut off my retreat a moment ago. I will die in a week, and Miharu-senpai……

“By the way, senpai, when did you open that letter?”

“The day before yesterday… But more importantly, what is that broadcast? Am I the only one who can hear it? Why? Is it not related to ‘Karakiri-san’?”

“I don’t know.”

“Kouhai-kun, aren’t you supposed to help me!?”

“I will definitely help you! So please calm down!”

Their exchange resembled a public argument, and even the third-year students who had been glaring at me out of jealousy started to show interest.

She was putting on a brave face, but Miharu-senpai was anxious. Very few people could remain calm when faced with the possibility of their own death. I couldn’t either. I could act tough with my words, but that was all. My determination was just an illusion.

But that was fine for now. Even baseless statements could sound convincing if said with confidence, and a strange credibility emerged. I didn’t want her to go crazy, but I needed allies—honest and trustworthy allies.

“…… Do you have a plan?”

“Yes, I do. It’ll be fine.”

I was overestimating myself. If I didn’t solve this on my own, would things get complicated? No, if Miharu-senpai wasn’t saved, it wouldn’t matter if things got complicated.

Ding dong dang dong.

The bell signaling the end of lunch break rang. Kusune should be back in the classroom by now.

“Oh, then I guess we’ll call it a day for now.”

As I hurried back to the classroom, thinking about the conversation from this morning, Miharu-senpai called out, “Wait.”

“What is it, senpai?”

“………… We’ll talk later, okay?”

The shadow of anxiety darkened her smile. The only way to dispel the cloud over her heart was to help her. I suppressed my own unease and waved back, making sure not to show any signs of distrust.

I had to hurry back to class, or I’d be late and have to write a reflection again.