It was the summer of my sixth year in university.
At that time, I only needed a few more credits to graduate. Taking full advantage of a professor’s promise that I would get my credits as long as I handed in a report, I had holed myself up in my apartment. I survived on the allowance my parents still sent me and the occasional payout from pachinko, having long since quit my part-time job. I spent my days happily playing net games, gluing myself to 2channel, and without a single thought of job hunting ever crossing my mind.
"Take that! Take that!"
That day, too, I was locked in combat with a large stuffed frog.
I had been deeply moved upon learning that Antonio Inoki was so highly regarded for his pro-wrestling technique that he was called "the man who can go thirty minutes in a one-fall match with a mop." Inspired, I decided to do the same and was fighting a frog in my own room.
Right then, Onkyo called me. She was a girl who unilaterally called me her "master in the occult" and constantly clung to me.
"W-what?" "Come on out, won't you? Wait, why are you breathing so hard? Are you jerking off in the middle of the day?" "Jer-...? A young lady shouldn't use such archaic slang, pant, pant. Besides, you've got it wrong, pant, pant. I was battling a stuffed frog." "Gross."
With that, she hung up. Since she didn't call back even after I waited, I dialed her number instead.
"What on earth is this?" "You're gross, so never mind."
Oh, this girl!
I skillfully masked my true desire—which was that I was actually unimaginably bored and desperately wanted someone to pay attention to me—and managed to make plans to meet up with Onkyo.
Until very recently, I had been so addicted to an online game that I was failing to live a normal life, but lately that fever had cooled off, and I was just beginning to come to my senses. Back when I was a net-game addict, I used to treat Onkyo and her meddling with rough indifference, but the moment I reverted to being a decent human being, she stopped playing along with me. The world is truly never how you want it to be.
Anyway, our meeting place—no, our date spot—was the university cafeteria for the first time in ages. It would be awkward if the professor spotted me, but it was close and the food was cheap, so it couldn't be helped.
Onkyo showed up looking cool in a short-sleeved white blouse and slim Black Watch trousers. Since summer had arrived, her hair was a short bob that barely hid her cheeks.
"Are you that free, Master?" "Yeah."
I ordered my usual L-size curry, but Onkyo only ate a salad. Lately, she was like this every time I saw her. A girl who used to wolf down curry without a care in the world was suddenly worrying about her health, beauty, or figure. How time flies.
"They say in Russia, they did the exact same experiment as Schrödinger's cat, but using a death row inmate. You know, the one where radium in a box undergoes alpha decay, triggering a switch that releases cyanogen gas to kill the cat. Quantum mechanics says that if there's a 50% probability of alpha decay within a specific timeframe, the cat inside the box exists in a superposition of being both dead and alive to an outside observer. Even though in reality it has to be one of the two, either alive or dead. So a Russian scientist tried to figure out if—since a human soul weighs 21 grams—they could place the whole box on a scale and observe it to determine whether the person is alive or dead before even opening the lid."
Lately, Onkyo's sentence-ending tone had gotten a little sweeter, or so it felt. A truly welcome development.
"There's a lot I want to poke fun at, but what happened in the end?" "It dropped by 10.5 grams, apparently."
As usual, Onkyo loved these urban-legend-style stories. I finished eating my lunch while listening to her with one ear, as always.
"So, do you need something?" "We got an interesting request at the Hattori Investigation Agency."
Onkyo worked a part-time job at a private detective agency. Specifically, it was the same "ghost-specialized" investigator gig that Kanako-san used to have. She'd started around the autumn of her first year in university, and now in her second year, it hadn't even been a full year yet, but her workload seemed to be steadily increasing.
An older woman named Nishida—who had taken a liking to Kanako-san back then and introduced her to lots of clients—seemed to be bustling about on her behalf again. Much like Hattori, the head of the agency, I could sense many people projecting their lingering affection for the departed Kanako onto Onkyo. I suppose high expectations are a good thing, but from my perspective, I couldn't help thinking, *Her~?*
"It's a request from an employee at the Naki Town Hall. Someone in the General Affairs Division. Apparently, they're hearing a strange sound coming from the disaster prevention radio system." "Isn't that a job for the installation contractor?" "Well, it seems some people can hear it and others can't, and the locals are getting creeped out. They've started calling it the ghost radio." "Huh. Ghosts, huh." "Apparently the client is a distant relative of Nishida-san. That's how it got referred to us. But in my experience, people with stiff jobs like civil servants tend to look all suspicious when a cute little girl shows up by herself." "I don't know about the cute part, but anyone peddling themselves as a psychic looks suspicious." "Anyway, I figured things would go a lot smoother if Master came along with me." "I see."
I stroked my stubble. Come to think of it, how many days had it been since I shaved?
"Well, that's fine and all, but I'm busy, you know."
I opened my notebook, which contained my pachinko earnings and losses, and let my eyes trace over some incomprehensible, monthly, fortune-cookie-like aphorism printed inside.
"Oh, then never mind." "No, wait. I might be free depending on the day. Depending on the day. When are we going?" "Tomorrow." "Tomorrow? That's sudden." "Oh, it's fine. Whatever." "Wait, as it happens, I'm free tomorrow. Only on that day, coincidentally. Aren't I lucky." "Oh, it was the day after tomorrow. I made a mistake."
Two days later, Onkyo and I ended up heading to Naki Town.
We took the JR train heading west. It felt a bit like a date.
"Is that your job-hunting suit?" "Yeah." "It's like a suit of armor passed down through the family without ever being used in battle."
I had even gone so far as to wear a suit myself, just to make a rookie psychic look a bit more respectable, and this was the thanks I got? What's more, she herself had shown up wearing a floral one-piece dress and a wide-brimmed white hat. A date, huh?
I had secretly heard through the grapevine that she was the leading candidate for number one in this year's Miss Campus Contest, an event where she'd finished second in a Gothic Lolita outfit last year. They call going out with a girl like that a date.
Riding the train in a not-unpleasant mood, we soon arrived at our destination.
When we stepped out of the station, a tranquil rural landscape spread out in all directions. I'd only ever known Naki Town from the train route map, but I had no idea it was this country-fied.
The river we'd seen from the top of the iron bridge along the way was flowing past the other side of the woods. Was it the Yashiro River? Since we weren't deep in the mountains, the altitude wasn't high, but it was clearly cooler than O City. The breeze was refreshing.
Checking my watch, it was five in the afternoon. The sky was still bright. We walked up along the Yashiro River toward the town hall and dropped into a coffee shop we found along the way.
It seemed to be run by a local elderly couple. There were no other customers. We both ordered coffee. The master asked where we had come from, and I gave a vague reply that we came from O City to see a friend.
"Can you hear the disaster prevention radio around here?" Onkyo asked, and the good-natured master replied, "Ah, there's a speaker just down the road over there." "Well, that friend of mine was talking about how they've been hearing weird sounds coming from the disaster prevention radio lately." "Ah. Some people do say things like that, it seems. Though we've never heard it ourselves."
The master glanced at the clock hanging on the wall and said: "Every day at 6:00 PM, the disaster prevention radio plays the 'Yuyake Koyake' chime. You know that one—*Yuyake koyake de higa kurete~*. When that plays, it gives us the feeling of, ah, another day is over. But they say that right after that, a strange sound plays. Some folks in the neighborhood say they can hear it. And apparently, it's a rather eerie sound." "Weren't there any complaints made to the town hall?" "Some people seem to have made them, but they say the cause is unknown. Well, I suppose there's no need to worry about it all that much. As long as 'Yuyake Koyake' plays."
The master and his wife at the counter nodded and looked completely unconcerned.
It's 5:30, huh. We decided to stick around the coffee shop for another thirty minutes and ordered an extra side of hot sandwiches.
Sitting across from Onkyo, we made small talk about this and that.
"Long ago, a great king of Tahiti was deified, and every place he walked became an important, sacred spot, they say. It was a rule that other humans weren't allowed to step foot there anymore. What do you suppose happened when things like that kept going?" "Well, wouldn't it be that one? The punchline where everywhere ended up covered in sacred spots and everyone was in trouble." "A little different. The king was told by everyone, 'Don't go walking anywhere,' and apparently had to stay put inside the royal palace."
While listening to one of Onkyo's favorite little anecdotes to kill time, the sound of a chime—*ping pong pan pong*—echoed from outside.
"That's it, then." When I asked, the master nodded.
Following the pre-chime, the melody of "Yuyake Koyake" began to play. Given how close the speaker was, there was no distortion; it was a clear sound.
"There's nothing particularly strange about it." It was the moment Onkyo said that, a little while after "Yuyake Koyake" finished playing. A strange, muttering sound could be heard from outside.
"Hm?" Even straining my ears, I couldn't make it out well. "Someone's saying something."
At Onkyo's words, the master tilted his head. "Let's see. I don't hear a thing." His wife seemed the same. Exchanging glances to ensure we wouldn't be suspected of a dine-and-dash, Onkyo and I left our belongings behind as hostages and dashed outside.
"That's the speaker." We quickly found the pole along the road. It stood all alone in the middle of a clear path surrounded by rice paddies.
*Mutter, mutter, mutter.*
From the speaker that had just sounded so clear, someone's voice could faintly be heard murmuring.
When we asked an elderly woman who happened to pass by on a bicycle if she could hear it, she just shook her head and rode off.
The sound from the speaker eventually became disjointed, and just when a slightly louder, noise-like sound—*"Powan powan powan, powan powan powan, powan powan powan"*—played at the end, it cut off abruptly.
We exchanged glances and returned to the coffee shop. I asked the master if he hadn't heard that final noise-like sound either, but he just shook his head again.
"What on earth could that be?" "To me, it sounded like a human voice." "I felt that way too, but I have no idea what it's saying."
However, sorting through the scant information we had, it was highly likely that only people with spiritual sensitivity could hear this sound. Could it still be some kind of psychic phenomenon?
After leaving the coffee shop, we headed for the town hall. The sun hadn't set yet, but since it was past six, it should have been outside business hours. The town hall building was three stories high, its walls partly entangled with ivy, giving it an aged appearance. The front entrance was still unlocked, so we walked right in and saw a few staff members still working on the first floor.
"Is Mr. Susaki in?" I asked. He was called over the intercom and immediately came down from the upper floor.
"This way, this way," he motioned, and we went outside together from the entrance. He was probably around thirty. Our client was a tall, lanky, thin man.
"Sorry. There are still people around, so would you mind killing time until night? Right behind here is my grandpa's house, but he's currently hospitalized and not there. So please make yourselves at home. Oh, here's the key."
We were to meet in front of the entrance at 11:00 PM, and just as instructed, we went to Mr. Susaki's grandfather's house.
It was a small house with a yard overgrown with weeds and left in ruins.
Perhaps Susaki had cleaned it, but the rooms were tidy and clean, though a calendar on the wall was stuck on last year, making it feel like a home without a master.
We killed time watching TV, and right at 11:00, we headed back to the town hall. Pitch black outside. The chirping of insects was deafening.
Mr. Susaki was waiting in front of the main entrance and motioned to us again with a "This way, this way." Going around to the back of the building, we found an outside staircase and used it to enter the third-floor floor.
"Sorry about this. Well, you can't really make a big fuss about this kind of thing. We can't use town funds either. It's out of my own pocket, actually. Oh, I'm Susaki, the one who made the request." "We're from the Hattori Investigation Agency." Onkyo handed over her business card.
"Are you Ms. Choko Okada? I've heard rumors about you from Nishida's great-aunt." Susaki glanced at Onkyo's attire. She was dressed coolly, as if she were out sightseeing, but she smiled back with an utterly unfazed expression.
"Ah, I've run out of business cards at the moment. I'm Nasu, Okada's colleague." "Ah, Mr. Nasu." I just bowed and played along.
"This is the General Affairs Division where I work." Except for the area above the General Affairs Division, the lights on the third floor were turned off, making it dim.
"The other staff have all gone home. Tonight is my night duty, so right now it's just the three of us here."
I surveyed the empty floor. It wasn't a large town hall, so there weren't many desks. Compared to the O City hall I was used to, it felt remarkably homey.
"So, regarding your request about the disaster prevention radio... We heard it at 6:00 PM today, too. It sounded like someone was muttering something, but we couldn't understand the content." "You heard it?" Susaki looked surprised.
"Actually, I can't hear it at all. So even when other people talk about hearing it and getting creeped out, all I can do is tilt my head." "Did you consult the radio equipment contractor?" "I did. But there didn't seem to be any abnormalities. Please come this way."
Susaki guided us into a small room at the back of the General Affairs Division. Inside, a large white machine sat on a wide table. Helmets and disaster-prevention uniforms lined the walls.
"This is where we record for the disaster prevention radio or set the tapes to be played. This terminal right here. And, well, the recording of 'Yuyake Koyake' that we play every day at 06:00 PM is this one."
When Susaki operated the machine, the words "Yuyake Koyake" appeared at the top of a built-in old monitor. When he pressed a button switch, the music flowed from a speaker in the corner of the room.
"Right now, it's set to play only in this room. You can also broadcast it to the whole town or select specific districts."
The nostalgic melody of "Yuyake Koyake" played in the small room. Even though my mind felt like it was sunset, it was pitch black outside the window, giving me a strangely surreal feeling.
The remaining time displayed on the monitor counted down, and by the time the melody ended, there were 3 seconds left. And when it hit 0, a tiny *click* sound was heard, and it stopped completely.
"See? Only this is recorded. So there shouldn't be anything playing after 'Yuyake Koyake'." "Isn't it set to play another recording right after?" Onkyo was wandering around the room, looking up at the ceiling, so I took over the questioning role.
"No, it isn't. All current settings can be seen on this terminal as well. No such sound plays in this room either, and in the first place, neither I nor most people can hear it." Susaki sighed.
"And yet, residents tell us, 'What is that saying?' or 'It's creepy, so stop playing it.' I don't know what to do anymore." "Are there any staff members who can hear it?" "...There are. The mayor can't hear it, so he just says, 'Leave it be, leave it be.' But a few of the staff reportedly can hear it." "What kind of sound do they say they hear?" "They still say they just hear something muttering. But nobody seems to hear it clearly." "About when did it start playing?" "I don't know for sure, but wouldn't it be around this time last year?" "It's been going on for quite a while, then." "Yeah. That's why we're in trouble."
Suddenly, Onkyo leaned forward. "Do the people who can hear it see ghosts?"
Asked so directly, Susaki seemed bewildered. "W-well, so-called spiritual sensitivity? It seems some people who have it strong can. But someone like me hasn't had any at all since long ago, so I don't really understand."
Sweat was beading on his forehead. Wiping it away with a handkerchief, Susaki let out a deep breath.
"Does the fire station have a machine like this?" I asked just to be sure. "Yes. This is the town hall's terminal, but the fire station has the same one. But the setting to ring the 6 o'clock chime is only on this side, and the 'Yuyake Koyake' recording is only with us. Just to be sure, I've checked the terminal at the fire station at that time before, but it wasn't operating. But even then, the people who could hear it, heard it. That strange voice."
After blurting out the word "voice," Susaki looked startled and stroked his face with his right hand.
Watching Susaki's reaction, I thought for a moment before opening my mouth. "Anything else out of the ordinary?"
Hearing those words, Susaki turned his thin face pale and swallowed hard. "Actually..."
He hesitated for a while after saying that, but after rubbing his knees, he stood up. "This way."
With that, he returned to the General Affairs Division floor. By the window stood a large old shelf crammed with various items, including document files. Susaki turned back to face us in front of that shelf.
"This is... well, it might just be me overthinking it. But, you know."
After hesitating, he let out another sigh. "Aside from being in charge of fire prevention and disaster preparedness, I'm also concurrently in charge of property management, which involves building maintenance and such. Well, it's such a country town, so we have a small staff and can't help it. And under that property management side of things, we handle lost and found items. Lost property left inside the building. Mostly, it's ballpoint pens or handkerchiefs."
Through the glass doors of the shelf, I could see lots of those kinds of things piled up.
"Important items like wallets, wristwatches, and personal seals are kept for a week, and if no owner shows up, we take them to the police. The other miscellaneous things aren't really worth turning in, so they've just been left here indefinitely." "So they just keep piling up?" "Well, yeah. It seems they used to dispose of them whenever the person in charge changed, but for the past few years that I've been in charge, they haven't."
Each lost item had a tag showing the date and location where it was found...
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