Boogiepop Returns VS Imaginator Part 1 Read Online Free PDF Page A

themselves in methodology. They know all sorts of approaches to things and all sorts of tricks, but all they're doing is trying to make up for an inability to communicate with others.
    Being nice to them, praising them. . . it's all useless. Staying firmly on a practical ground worked best.
    But the end result of all of their tricks only served to drive them even further into isolation. Since nobody else needed these tricks, they couldn't understand how much work went into them. Those of the same type were especially cruel -- if they happened to be using different methodologies.
    None of them would ever find an ‘ally.'
    “Okay, I'll try it out.” Drawn along by Asukai's friendly manner, the boy was now completely comfortable.
    “You've still got plenty of time,” Asukai nodded. He didn't dare add, 'But all your efforts and memories will never be appreciated by anyone else.’ That revelation would only be utterly futile.
    “But, Sensei,” the boy asked. “What are you planning on doing when you get out of college?”
    “Dunno. Probably try and make a living painting.”
    “Seems like a waste, man. You ought to start your own business, do something big. Seriously.” His eyes were serious, no sense of the mocking that this type so often engaged in.
    “Maybe.”

    “You lack a 'calling. ' ”

    “I keep having this dream over and over.”
    “What kind?”
    “Um, Sensei. . . have you ever heard the phrase 'Sometimes it snows in April'?”
    “Uh. . . n-no, can't say that I have. W-why?”
    “In the dream, someone -- l don't know who -- keeps saying that to me. When I hear those words, I just don't care about anything anymore. This stupid test, this ugly world -- they just don't matter to me. Not anymore.”
    “. . . . . . . .”
    “But whoever it is, they are a little too nice. . . and that's sort of scary. When I wake up, it feels like someone just threw a bucket of cold water in my face. Brrr .. . .”
    “And after I have that dream, I can't do anything. I had one the day before the last practice test, and I couldn't figure out a single problem.”
    “. . . . . . . .”
    “Sensei, is there something wrong with me?”
    “. . . . . . . .”
    “Sensei? Uh, Asukai-sensei?”
    “-- Ah! Oh, uh, hmm?”
    “Something wrong?”
    “Oh, no. It's nothing.”

    ***

    When the last student left, Asukai tried several times to sketch that face .
    Unfortunately, he couldn't draw it well enough, and he crumpled up all of his attempted pages and flung them into the corner of the counseling office, missing the wastebasket.
    Afterwards, he knelt down to collect them all and wondered to himself, “What the hell am I doing. . . ?”
    He sighed, balled up the failed sketches as tightly as he could, and buried them deep within the office wastebasket.

    ***

    Several days passed like this, repeating the same answers over and over for an endless progression of identical worries, occasionally encountering the phrase “Sometimes it snows in April” among them.
    Then one day, as he walked along the streets after work, he heard a groan from a back alley.
    “Unh. . . unh. . . s -- somebody. . .” he heard, faintly.
    “ . . . ?” He turned off the main road, heading towards the voice.
    “Please. . . somebody. . .” It sounded like a girl's voice and in great pain, barely gasping out the words.
    “Is somebody there?” Asukai called out. There was no answer.
    He moved deeper into the alley, and found a girl slumped against the cul de sac.
    “I -- Unhhhhhhhhh,” she groaned.
    “What's the matter?” Asukai asked as he went over to her, and placed his hand upon her back.
    Instantly, his hand was flung off.
    The girl sprang up like a jack-in-the-box, launching herself towards him, and slamming his back against the wall. “Don't move,” she snarled, with sudden menace. There was a carving knife in her hand.
    “You're. . .” Asukai looked at her face. She was very, very thin, like a skeleton. It was painful to look at her.