Chapter 127 - Chapter 110: A Story of After Waking from a Dream
When he came to, the world looked tilted vertically. The floor occupied the right half of his vision, and the boy noticed he was collapsed on the floor.
He raised his upper body and looked around, but there was no one in the gymnasium. There were no figures of Naomi, Yui, Mana, or the infected in the form of his mother.
There were only corpses.
The inside of the gymnasium was charred black, and the ceiling had collapsed, revealing a gray sky. What was reflected by the light shining through the hole in the ceiling were numerous lumps of charcoal in the shape of humans rolling on the floor.
Those that curled their bodies like fetuses, those that were likely a couple and had their bodies burned away while embracing each other. And most of the charred corpses were lying near the exit doors of the gymnasium. Numerous corpses that had become cinders were lying with hands extended toward the exit, as if piled on top of each other.
Suddenly, he felt like he heard the screams of the people who were set on fire along with the gymnasium and burned away. That scene he was seeing should have been a dream. The fact that this gymnasium was burned was also a story from many months ago. Despite that, the boy felt like he smelled the nasty scent of burning meat and hair now.
Had he gone crazy? There, he finally noticed the existence of a corpse rolling next to him. The corpse of that man wearing a police officer's uniform was not charred, unlike the other corpses in the gymnasium. A handgun was gripped in the right hand, and a small hole was opened in the temple where it had dried and bone was exposed.
Right beside the police officer's corpse, a notebook with a black cover was dropped. He recognized that notebook. It was the notebook where the police officer's diary, which the boy was reading while seeing the phantom, was recorded.
Could it be... and he flipped over the police officer's corpse that was lying face down. A snapping sound echoed, but the boy was captivated by the name tag attached to the chest of the uniform more than such a thing. On the cheap plastic name tag fastened with a safety pin, "Kamada" was written.
The boy pried the handgun from the corpse's hand and gripped it in his own hand as it was. Placing his hand against the wall, he stood up and went outside to escape from the nightmare-like scene. Outside the gymnasium, the same things were in the same arrangement as when the boy arrived. However, every one of them had become a miserable shape, and not a shred of a sign of people being there could be sensed.
Several passenger cars and buses, and three patrol cars were stopped in the schoolyard. However, every one of them remained covered in dust and soiled with mud. Traces of dust being washed away by rain remained on the windshields, and the tires were cracked. And on several vehicles, there were marks where bullets had hit. There were also cars that had become charred black and were only frames.
The tents pitched in the schoolyard had mostly become only frameworks, in a state where a slight bit of canvas cloth was clinging to them. Many had collapsed, perhaps blown away by a typhoon.
When he peered into the hole dug in the corner of the schoolyard, human bones were scattered at the bottom of the hole. Would the number reach dozens of people? White-boned corpses still wearing clothes were rolling carelessly as if buried in countless trash.
There were also things that hadn't been visible when the boy came to this junior high school. Numerous ropes with loops at the tips hanging down from the school building's roof. If those were according to the contents of the diary, they were surely not for anything good.
As if to prove that, like a morbid objet d'art, only a white-boned skull remained at the tip of one rope. The hollow eyes of the skull stared into the void, and the rope swayed back and forth every time the wind blew. Surely, they had likely hanged those who disturbed order with those ropes and pushed them off the roof. As if to show that, numerous disjointed white bones were scattered on the ground directly below the ropes. It seemed the putrefied bodies couldn't withstand gravity, fell, and became disjointed.
Of the two school buildings, one was charred black. Bullet holes were pierced into the walls of the school building that was safe, just like the patrol cars in the schoolyard, and the windows were shattered into pieces. Just as if a gunfight had occurred.
It didn't seem like they were attacked by infected. What happened at this junior high school would likely be known if he read the continuation of this diary.
"June 25
Today, I headed to a gun shop and procured weapons. Currently, there are only four handguns that we police officers were equipped with. With this, if by any chance a swarm of infected or a hostile group attacks from the outside, we wouldn't be able to compete at all.
Fortunately, there is a gun shop on the outskirts of the city. I selected several people and headed to that gun shop. There was a survivor thought to be the shopkeeper inside the shop, and even when I requested that he provide weapons, he didn't nod his head. Apparently, he didn't intend to hand weapons to anyone, and since he only got excited when I talked to him, I shot him. Weapons are needed to protect the shelter; it can't be helped."
"June 27
The self-defense corps caught information that the evacuees were plotting an armed uprising and detained the ringleaders. In their talk, they said I am overdoing it. They seem to have thought that if I continued to govern this shelter any further, eventually everyone would die. Their plan was apparently to eliminate me and the self-defense corps members before that and conduct the operation of the shelter with everyone's consent.
What kind of stupid thing are they saying? The reason people have been able to survive in this shelter until now is because I have been striving to maintain the shelter by using every means. The suspects insulted me as a mere mass murderer, but did they have the guts to do that? Executing those who disturbed order and burning the influenza patients to death were all unavoidable things. There was no other way.
The suspects are still shouting something, but I will execute them tomorrow morning."
"June 28
Executed the suspects. Simultaneously, declared that those who try to disturb the order of the shelter in the future will be held criminally liable even at the stage of making a plan."
"June 29
Detained those who plotted to escape from the shelter. Considering the possibility of becoming existences that harm the shelter in the future, executed them."
"June 29
One of the evacuees attacked a self-defense corps member and stole a gun. A gunfight occurred, and four people, including the culprit, died."
"July 3
One of the self-defense corps members defected. He helped the evacuees escape and shot the self-defense corps that headed to stop them. Twelve evacuees fled, but the culprit was detained.
In the interrogation, the culprit was shouting that such a way is wrong. He says most of the evacuees have a desire to escape from this shelter, and he merely provided help for that. Is my way wrong? No, it's not.
The discipline of the self-defense corps also seems to be loosening. A purge might be necessary."
The diary stopped there. The boy felt so. The next page was blank. The next, and the next too.
Something happened here. The boy turned the pages of the notebook all at once. On the last page, a long text is spelled out.
"July 10
I committed a crime. I was wrong.
Before I knew it, I had mistaken the purpose and the means, and rather than maintaining the order of the shelter for everyone to survive, I had come to prioritize only maintaining the order of the shelter as the top priority.
Without thinking about the residents even a little bit, I was thinking only about how not to disturb the order of the shelter. As a result, I invited the residents' backlash, but against that, I merely recognized that a problem occurred and didn't think about why such a situation was brought about. I could only identify the culprit and execute them.
On July 9, a large-scale battle finally broke out inside the shelter. The opponents were not infected, but the evacuees and self-defense corps members who were eating and sleeping together until yesterday.
I don't know who started the fight for what reason. But, it was surely something trivial at first. From there, it developed into a quarrel, and eventually led to killing each other.
At first, I ordered the self-defense corps to suppress the commotion. Shoot everyone who is making a fuss and prioritize the maintenance of order. But that order might have been the decisive blow. Half of the self-defense corps abandoned the mission and attempted to flee. A gunfight occurred between them and the group that tried to stop them, and it eventually developed into a battle involving everyone in the shelter.
The evacuees, who seemed to have exploded with the stress they had been accumulating until then, used violence without mercy against people other than family and comrades. People who were living together until yesterday killed each other without mercy, and tragic scenes were unfolded here and there in the shelter.
I realized by seeing that scene. That I was the one who was wrong.
If I think about it, there should have been any number of better ways. But I didn't allot thinking to those and just continued to choose easy methods that would have an immediate effect. Namely, ignoring the words of the people who harbored dissatisfaction and choosing the easy method of executing those who took action.
By my taking a high-handed, dictatorial governing method, it was certainly possible to survive for several months. While a large number of people died and became infected outside the shelter, it can even be called a miracle that over a hundred people have been able to live as humans until now. But on the other hand, the evacuees couldn't even vent the dissatisfaction they harbored, and when those exploded all at once, it developed into killing each other.
I committed a crime. That is continuing to deny everything that happened as "unavoidable" and "not my fault."
Every time a problem occurred, I blamed it on the residents. I made excuses that I wasn't wrong and didn't try to change the current situation. That was not just because I had lost mental leeway, but also because there was likely a part where I had a consciousness that I didn't want to admit I was wrong. I continued to choose means that looked like correct answers at first glance. I avoided thinking deeply about what awaited beyond that and gave up on searching for better solutions.
There should have been any number of better ways. But I ran away from thinking and continued to run away from problems too. I am realizing that now. But, everything is already too late.
Most of the residents died killing each other, and the few who survived have already escaped the shelter. I am now remaining in this shelter alone. But, I don't intend to stay long here——no, in this world anymore.
I committed mistakes and continued to pile up crimes. As a result, I have taken the lives of a large number of people. I must take this responsibility.
No, I'm just tired already. Please laugh at the man who continued to run away from thinking deeply and facing problems seriously, and is now again trying to run away from living in this world like this.
If there is someone reading this diary, please do not give up until the end. Stop running to an easy path by stopping thinking that "it can't be helped," and face all matters seriously without turning your eyes away from what happened by saying "it's not my fault."
It will be very difficult to continue living in this hellish world. But, please survive without giving up until the end. At any time, continue the effort to choose the best path until the end, and even if the result was not a good one, do not run away from that fact and use it as the next nourishment.
That is the only valuable lesson this foolish man who has continued to run away can leave.
Sergeant Kamada Toru"
Before he knew it, the boy had returned to the gymnasium that had burned down and become a charred ruin. On the way back to the gymnasium, he saw human corpses here and there. Every one of them was the remains of an evacuee who died killing each other.
When he entered the gymnasium, the corpse of the police officer wearing the "Kamada" nameplate was again waiting for the boy. When the boy crouched beside that corpse, he placed the notebook on its chest.
This officer was also the same as me. What I understood from reading the diary is that he was also the same existence as myself. Both are humans who ran away from the results by saying "it's not my fault" against what happened, and continued to compromise and choose easy paths by saying "unavoidable." The difference is that this Sergeant Kamada faced the mistakes he had been committing head-on at the end. But the boy could only continue to justify himself until he was cornered enough to see hallucinations like this.
The series of hallucinations the boy saw in this shelter was likely not just for the reason that fatigue had accumulated or that he used narcotics for pain relief. In the depths of his heart, he surely thought that what he had been doing was wrong. But by continuing to turn his eyes away without admitting that for a long time and keeping a lid on his true feelings, his heart was screaming.
That's why he saw such a hallucination. In reality, this shelter was abandoned long ago and was nothing but a ruin where corpses and rubble rolled. But the boy was seeing a phantom that people were here. The reason he saw such a hallucination was likely because the boy harbored a convenient wish that he wanted to run away, that he wanted someone to help him.
And the boy's true feelings, which had been pushed into the depths of his heart, forced the boy to face what he had been doing in the form of the hallucinations of Naomi and the others. What kind of things he had done until now, and how many people died as a result. He was struck head-on with the events he had been maintaining his heart's peace by not thinking about until now.
"Ah... aa... uaa..."
The boy knelt and let out a groan. Holding his head, he wailed like a child. He understood only now how terrible what he had done until now was.
How many people died because of him. And for how many people's lives did he take for selfish reasons. The screams of the dead people were being revived now. The terror and anger toward an unreasonable death they showed at the final moment, and the gaze filled with hatred toward the boy, floated in his mind and wouldn't disappear.
I was wrong. Those words echoed in his head many times.
He was a human who was fine only with his mouth, but in the end, couldn't do anything. A human who prioritized himself at any time and didn't care what happened to other people, despite saying high and mighty things while his own self was important. A human who could only run away if something happened, and had no choice but to choose the easy way even when forced to make a decision.
And a human who continued to turn his eyes away from those facts, justified himself, and continued to pile up mistakes. Realizing that he was such a human, the boy despaired at being a hopeless, lowest kind of human.
How many humans have I let die until now? And from how many people's deaths have I continued to turn my eyes away?
If he had admitted the mistakes he committed much earlier, his subsequent actions might have changed. He might have become a human who could continue searching for the best means without giving up until the end in any situation. Even if it became a matter of having no choice but to take human lives because it couldn't be helped, he might have been able to reduce the number of dead.
But even if he realizes what kind of human he is and admits his mistakes now, the dead people will not return. The past cannot be changed. The crimes he committed cannot be erased either.
Many people died because of him. Realizing that fact anew, the boy could only tremble alone inside the gymnasium where charred corpses rolled.