[Originally posted December 17, 2022]
Happy one month anniversary to this blog, and happy part 4 to my TIME anthology review. We’ll be covering one comic and one short story this time.
This part covers pages 103-135
林檎 (Apple)
First up is the comic 林檎 (Apple), by 生方音子 (Otoko Ubukata)
星座 (Constellation)
Next is the short story 星座 (Constellation), with story by すみれ・ほのか (Sumire Honoka) and art by 潮藍 (Ai Ushio)
“I was looking for a baku*. It seems that I have been possessed by a demon.”
He said so and looked at me. I asked him how he was able to find me.
*A baku (獏) is a Japanese supernatural being that devours dreams and nightmares.
“Last night, I was so afraid of dreaming that I went to the town festival and pretended to be a madman, asking everyone if they knew a baku. When I woke up, I found myself clutching a piece of paper in my hand with the address of this place written on it.”
I nodded. There are many people who come to me in this way.
“I hope I can help, but I’m not a baku. I can’t eat your dreams and rid you of your demons. I can only interpret dreams.”
“That’s fine.” He said
He was still a young man, with golden blond hair and blue eyes.
I warned him once again.
“Look at the stars, for example. There are many stars scattered randomly in the night sky. However, although the stars appear to be separate, they are actually attracted to each other and always form the same shape. A scorpion, a cow, a maiden…”
“People are the same way…” Saying that, I touched the young man’s forehead.
“…Dreams are manifestations of previous lives. It is not easy for a person to escape the shape of his previous destiny. Like the stars, eventually souls involved in previous lives call to each other and meet again. And so the same shape of destiny is drawn… You see what I mean now. To read dreams is to read past lives. To read a past life is to know the future. And yet…?”
He hesitated, but eventually closed his eyes.
“Please.”
I decided to listen to him.
It’s no surprise that some kind of monster might be lurking in this foggy city, but what kind of monster, then, had possessed the young Char Aznable, people gossiped.
Irresponsible rumors flew in social circles as to how he, who had lost his parents but was left with ample assets and was blessed with talent and beauty from his parents, ended up not showing up at college, becoming a misanthrope, and eventually indulging in a life of self-indulgence that included drinking alcohol during the daytime.
Garma Zabi was heartbroken by the rumors. They’d been friends since the time his father was still alive.
The two of them met face to face for the first time in a while at a bar where the air was thick with the smoke of cheap cigarettes.
Char looked over at his friend, his face half covered with his hand.
“Who were you again?” He said.
Garma paid the waitress, and then grabbed water from a tray and poured it over Char.
“That’s rough…Garma.”
“Are you awake? Let’s get out of here.”
He put on Char’s coat and hat, and dragged him outside, but Char didn’t want to get into the carriage that was waiting for them.
“I’m sorry, but I have an appointment to meet someone.”
“Char!”
Garma grabbed him by the shoulders and turned Char towards him.
“Who? It’s fine if you don’t want to say, but is it someone who has to do with why you’re this way?”
Char smiled a little before gently removing his friend’s hand from his shoulder and took it with both hands.
“…until now, I’ve only been frightened by dreams…”
“Char?”
“Before that happens, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Garma. Could you please wait a little longer? I want to beat my dreams…my destiny.”
Garma asked,
“A dream? What kind?”
Char glanced at his throat….but didn’t answer. There was no way he could answer. Every night he had a dream that kept repeating over and over again as if he had been possessed by a demon… It was a dream of killing his friend.
Dismissing Garma, Char hurried on. On the outskirts of the city, there was a cemetery where his father was laid to rest. …But now, only for a short while, the grave was empty. In secret, Char had exhumed the body and left his father’s remains in the hands of a doctor he knew (a wonderfully tight-lipped man).
There had to be evidence of poisoning. If fate were to repeat itself, his father’s death must have been due to poisoning.
He had to meet the doctor at the cemetery that night, hear the results, and then bury his father again.
He had bribed the grave keeper enough money to keep him quiet. The moon was hidden by clouds, and all around was total darkness. The other party had not yet arrived. Char sighed, thinking he might be crazy.
“Tell me about your dream.”
A woman’s voice again reached his ears. A woman who lives in a foreign land, perhaps a barren land which has not yet been culled, and still possesses within her a primordial and mysterious power.
The dream was always the same. Char was always Char, but the time period seemed different. Yet the plot was always the same. Char’s father was killed by Garma’s father, and Char would in return kill Garma in anger. In the dream, it was the right thing to do, the natural thing to do. …but…
“I don’t want to kill him.”
Char said, leaning on the woman.
It’s because he loved that old friend of his.
“You said that fate repeats itself. But in this life I have no reason to kill him. My father was found dead six months ago, but that was because he fell ill…”
The woman vaguely smiled.
Char came back to me. The moon was out, and the man he was waiting on had arrived. He asked for the result, but the doctor did not answer, and said he would take his father back to the grave first. Char crouched down and put his hand on the coffin. Then…in the light of the moon, he saw a figure standing in the shadow of a tree.
“Garma…”
He wondered if he had been followed, and regretted that he had not noticed, but it was too late. Without a word of explanation, Char approached him.
“The grave…?”
Char shook his head. Garma went to grab hold of him and asked why. But there was no way he could answer. Then, another voice interrupted.
“The body was autopsied. It was suspected that he had been poisoned.”
It was the doctor’s voice. Garma gulped. Char tried to urge him to leave, but he refused with surprising force.
“The results are…?”
“It’s fine, I’ll ask later. You come with me, it doesn’t concern you!”
However, the doctor did not care and told the truth.
“I checked the evidence. It was arsenic.”
The body in Char’s arms lost its strength, but he was barely able to support him.
He had no intention of making this fact public. He had told this to the doctor who had helped him. If he was prepared to spend a long time seeking revenge, the culprit would eventually be caught, but…it seemed that Char had known for a long time that it would be Garma Zabi’s father. Would he take revenge? Like the Char in his dreams, would he do it?
He didn’t understand. He was just tired now. Would there ever come a time when this body would be consumed by a rage of anger and vengeance?
Char gently lay down on the bed and looked at his friend (he had taken him to a cheap hotel to stay after he had passed out). His throat was exposed through his loosened collar.
It’s like he’s asking to be killed.
He put his hand on his neck. He won’t struggle now. He’d probably die in one breath.
As expected, Char didn’t put any strength into his hand. He began to laugh. He cried while he laughed.
“It’s okay….I can’t kill you. That’s right.”
The dream was an illusion. Char collapsed and fell asleep. I won’t dream anymore, he thought.
That was the second time I met the young man. He was much better. He told me the story of how he had opened his father’s grave.
“My heart has won over fate! I can say with certainty that even if my father’s death was at the hands of his father, I would not have killed him for it.”
I asked, “As for him?”
“Eh?” The young man said, his eyes widened.
“Does he suspect his father?”
Maybe, replied the young man. He may have suspicions.
I shook my head. He is mistaken. We had failed to unravel the dream. A bad feeling clutched at my chest.
“Char, please tell me about your dream again. What is the shape that always appears? Could it be that he gave up something in your dream? Something he was born with?”
Char thought about it and opened his mouth.
“There is a girl. …He always loved her …… and so he abandoned his …… home for her….”
That was it. The shape appeared there.
“He’s going to die.”
I said. It was a prophecy.
“I told you that each person has a star given to them. I, for example, and the “Beholder”. When we go against the stars, we fall apart. Isn’t he a blessed man? And that’s not what he wanted, was it? It’s what the stars gave to him by birth. To throw it away is to throw away your destiny. The stars will give him death as punishment. …I was prepared for that. By the one with the ‘Killing Star’… Char.”
Char was staring at me, not even flinching.
“That’s what I am?”
“Your father’s death…”
It was a negative card that fate had prepared to force Char to kill him.
“In that case…”
Char replied.
“In that case, it should be said that the stars made a mistake this time. Indeed, by that providence I may have killed him in a previous life. Or perhaps the future will take that form. But…now I have already been given a negative card… I don’t even think about killing him. I love him. Killing him is unthinkable.”
I shook my head. Not yet. The stars have not yet moved. Fate is always better than us. It’s understandable that this young man can’t believe it… Suddenly it occurred to me that I had met him long ago.
I may have been one of the stars in the constellation that he and his friend created. Just as I am unraveling his star now in this life, I may have given him a prophecy in a previous life.
“Anyway…”
Char got up from his seat.
“I won’t lose. I’ll crush the stars, Lalah…”
He was short of breath. Ever since he saw Char in the cemetery that night, his world seemed completely changed. As soon as Char’s father became ill, his father sent for the family doctor. Who else but that doctor could administer arsenic? Like a thief, he crept into his father’s room and searched through his diary, but found no proof.
When Char came to visit, he didn’t want to see him, but he couldn’t help himself. The two met in the gazebo in the garden.
He’s thin, Char thought, looking at him. After a brief conversation, Garma asked.
“So…? What are you going to do?”
“Do what?”
“…You know what I’m talking about.”
Char replied that he had no intention of doing anything. He could tell Char was confused, but Garma felt unreasonable anger.
“You found out the truth. Isn’t that what you wanted to know?”
No, Char muttered to himself. No, what he wanted to know was his own feelings. What kind of pain would make my heart hate so much that I wanted to kill you? But he wasn’t supposed to know that. Poor thing, he thought. You were so happy. Now he is pale and frightened. How terrifying to see his father, who cared for and nurtured him, turn into something unrecognizable. Rather, he would have wanted Char to clean up the mess.
“I want to run away…”
Startled, he turned around.
“What did you say?”
Char grabbed his hand and pulled him. Surprised, he looked at Char head-on for the first time.
“No, I won’t let you run away.”
“Char?”
He didn’t hate him, not up until this point. But if he disappeared, that’s when…
…He would hate him. Pursue him, find him, and let the earth forgive him.
“You stay here. That’s your…”
“Atonement for sins?”
He laughed. He laughed like he was crying.
“It looks like torture. What do you want to do, Char? Are you going to kill my father? Or -”
His eyes were defiant.
“Or me instead?”
This is the dream. The dream that Char saw every night.
He was stuck. Hands outstretched and around his neck. A thin throat. As soon as you put pressure on it…
The pain in his hand brought Char back to reality. Garma’s struggling fingernails had scratched his hands. With a little hesitation, Char helped him up as he was crouching and coughing. Under his labored breath, he chided Char and said he wished he had killed him. The marks from his fingers on his neck were red like flower petals.
Garma was walking. It was raining. His neck and chest ached. He did not know what to do now. He hated the fact that his days would go on like this without interruption.
“…!”
Someone called out to him, and when he turned around, an angel was standing there.
The angel spoke to him in a human voice.
“You’ll get wet.”
As he looked on without saying anything, she finally looked at her wings.
“I’m from the troupe that’s on stage over there. These feathers are fake…”
She smiled, and her smile was that of an angel.
He fell in love, and it wasn’t long before he decided to leave behind everything he had, his happiness and his old life, which had faded since that night.
It was a dark, moonless night when a thick letter arrived at my house. Without even looking at the sender’s name, I knew.
It was from Char.
The cards were all in order.
It began with those words.
The cards were all in order. The woman of destiny appeared, bidding him to leave everything behind and choose her. The whisper may have been small, but the stars could not fail to hear it.
He asked for me. To say goodbye… As I held him by the shoulders, I wished I had a dagger to pierce his body. Oh, I told you that day that I would not kill him. Because I love him. Yes, I love him. And so… That was the negative card that fate had given me. For this reason, I wanted to kill him. I wanted to kill him and not let him go anywhere.
But I let go of the arms that held him. And so, with devilish cleverness, I found out where he and his lover were to meet. Now you know. What am I up to? I now have a sharp dagger by my side. You know where this blade is aimed, don’t you? Yes, it’s that girl. The woman of destiny, with honey-colored hair and a sweet face. The little golden snake.
A constellation, you said. Fate is a constellation. What if we destroy one of those stars? The equilibrium would be shaken, and fate might change its shape.
Am I crazy? But I’ve already made up my mind. Goodbye, Lalah. I have just burned the paper with your address on it. I will never see you again.
It was a moonless night. Only the sound of the wind could be heard in the tree-filled park. A figure was sitting by the fountain, holding a dimly lit lamp. The figure was dressed in a long, women’s cape. Char approached, careful to hide the sound of his footsteps. In his pocket was a dagger. Even he was surprised at his own lack of hesitation.
“You were given the Killing Star”, but he could no longer remember the name of the woman who said that. He put his hand on the cape, raised the dagger, and then swung. For a brief moment, the lamp illuminated the face of the person being attacked.
“Eh…!”
Char caught the falling person and forced them to sit up.
“Garma…?”
He was still breathing.
“No! I didn’t mean to kill you!”
He smiled a little.
“Who then? No, Char. Would it be possible to kill anyone else? …The only one you can kill is…”
He was the only one. Then he closed his eyes and stopped breathing.
The constellations remained unbroken, only one shape was drawn in this world.
This is followed with illustrations by Shio Chiba (千葉志生) and I believe Makoto Tateno (盾乃誡), though the left one it isn’t credited.
The text reads:
Slowly
Slowly
You passed away
The only one inside of me.
End of Part 4