Rikako perfected one of her works with extreme delicacy, imagining how it would look outside the paper, listening to the famous cheering of the audience before the creation. She could not help but smile sweetly. She was dying to show them the fruit of her skills. She longed to make such an impression that the viewers would die of dismay, then finally realize that what their eyes were seeing was real. She left her hand outstretched on the paper, closing her eyes, to feel the excitement numbing her senses and leaving her breathless in her lungs. She wondered what her father would say about her at that very moment, and remembered the flaming words of Yashiro.
"Come, night, and blindfold the kindhearted day. Use your bloody and invisible hand to tear up Banquo's lease on life, which keeps me in fear."
Makishima Shougo read aloud more for himself than for others, as if he were rejoicing over the words again and again, in a majestic and relentless chant. He was lost in a narrative climax that Rikako recognized after a pause, raising her head a few inches and closing her eyes.
"The sky's getting dark, and the crow is returning home to the woods. The gentle creatures of the day are falling asleep, while night's predators are waking up to look for their prey."
Makishima smiled proudly as he sat a few feet behind her. With one leg over the other and his body fully upright, he held a copy of Macbeth and subtly stroked one of the pages with his index finger. Whenever a work caught his attention, he would often get lost in it as if he were memorizing the letters, every feeling he encountered while reading. Rikako let out a knowing smile.
"Do you have the pleasure of reading Shakespeare's tragedies in class?"
The teacher's lips were thinly open, as if the idea had floated in the air just as it was exposed, and he was still able to taste it from within. Rikako looked down a few seconds, recalling her literature lessons while the other studied her expectantly. Her classmates chatted among themselves while the teacher read with a completely empty look and a constant, lifeless tone that lulled her to sleep. She even chose to distract herself by reading something different, more interesting.
"No, unfortunately. We've only read some of his comedies, which are more boring and lack the same cruelty and suffering," Rikako replied, focusing again on her drawing. "I think it's precisely because of the themes they deal with that they have never been taught to us. They must think their reading could raise our stress level. I don't blame them—that's exactly what could happen."
Makishima stood up and walked to the window to watch the first raindrops fall, one hand in his yellow trouser pocket and the other holding the book he was carrying under his arm, unable to part with it. Rikako blinked and was completely speechless as she realized that it was right there where Yashiro had been minutes before. The memory of her face surrounded her like a cold cloth, and for an instant she remained with the brush stuck to the paper without being able to continue, despite the fact that she forced herself to do so with all her might.
"Have you thought about where you could work with the paintings in private?"
Rikako was mentally grateful that his voice took her away from herself, as she could not stop thinking about the past. Makishima, on the other hand, stood motionless like a sculpture as he saw several students running for cover inside the academy, such ants being surprised by nature. His eyes danced to the rhythm of the tiny figures with a faint smile on his lips. He seemed to enjoy seeing them scattered about the courtyard, covering their hair uselessly with their hands, and hurling all sorts of insults at the melancholy weather. For the two of them, however, it was most charming. Rikako used to find more inspiration to draw and Makishima managed to concentrate even better when reading, immersing himself in the reading with the sound of water in his ears.
"I know a place that might be useful to you," he turned to her, with a gesture indicating that she should accompany him.
Ouryou Rikako, confused and excited in the same way, abandoned her drawing to follow the art teacher until she reached a place far away from curious glances. She wondered how he could gain access to information such as the one she was about to appreciate, and when the large door opened automatically, after Makishima had authorized it with his mobile device, Rikako stepped into the large, expansive room around her, feeling vulnerable, for rarely did anyone manage to impress her as he had in a few seconds. It looked like an enormous, abandoned and empty factory to the naked eye, but Rikako allowed herself to dream that it had been something more complex in the past.
"When the academy was renovated, this facility disappeared from the plans," the man explained, persisting in his walk without looking at her.
Rikako continued to walk around the place, watching every corner. She wondered where he had gotten the original plans for the academy, but she remembered that it was none other than Makishima Shougo—information was something he could easily get whenever he set his mind to it. His ease with words had led him there, and in some ways Rikako felt an admiration for him.
"That is to say, no one is aware of its existence," Rikako agreed, caressing the academy's characteristic red scarf. "All Touma-sensei and I need now is the right equipment."
A brief smile seemed to illuminate Makishima's face, as if he were savoring victory. He had a look full of secrets and details that he was not willing to offer her, and that Rikako, in turn, was not interested in asking him either. It was then that the young woman was silent for a long time. She wondered how he could get others to grant him everything he asked for without any difficulty. The amount of contact he must have had was exuberant, as was his impressive ability to persuade others.
"Leave that to me."
Rikako scowled at him, this time to connect with his eyes and seek the truth behind them. She returned empty-handed, however. As always, Makishima's appearance denoted the purest goodness and simplicity, but there was an enigmatic feeling that was conveyed to her, something that was far beyond what his gaze or behavior reflected. Rikako perceived his company as that of a stranger, and that caused her more curiosity than fear. She had always had a way of sniffing out people who were hiding something, like some of her classmates who were having family problems at home, and tried to keep it from affecting her grades.
Rikako could sense the fear in others, she was able to glimpse the concern a person had for something really wanted to forget. Sometimes, spending most of the time in silence and alone helped improve perception. And Rikako had indeed squeezed everything she could out of her loneliness. When she observed Makishima, on the contrary, everything went into darkness. She was unable to perceive anything in him, she found him an impenetrable book with blank pages. He seemed to walk on a line laid out by and for him, aware of its thickness and the weight it supported. Rikako had never met anyone like him before.
"What is it that motivates you to do this?" she asked suddenly. "To help the students."
For a brief and fleeting moment, Rikako swore she saw a playful smile on his face. His eyes narrowed in a sly manner and studied her deeply, as if she were asking a question whose answer was more than obvious.
"A teacher's role is to light the way for students. You all, one day, will flourish in the undergrowth, and I look forward to being there when that happens."
Rikako felt her entire chest swell as if those words ignited something within her. She even imagined the tall figure of Yashiro where he was standing exactly, like a hologram that stepped into the way. Makishima lifted his head a few millimeters and returned it to the same position, in a gesture of joy and a certain arrogance that she knew well.
"About that student … Yashiro."
Makishima had to make an effort to remember the name. He closed his eyes intently until he looked back at the young woman again. Rikako could not help but remember her last encounter with her, and she automatically averted her eyes from the man so that he would not notice her distress. She wondered where Yashiro was, and especially how she was doing with her memories. Every time she thought about it, she felt her insides twist and turn, and it was difficult for her to get her out of her mind.
"Takahashi Yashiro," she completed.
Makishima paused for a long time, immersed in his own thoughts. Rikako had the feeling that he was memorizing the name. When something managed to interest him, he did everything in his power to get his hands on it. And in a way, he gave Rikako a brief shudder.
"Do you think she could be an ally?"
Rikako pondered over it for a few moments as the teacher watched her attentively, squinting. She remembered the way her partner had been behaving the past few days, because of her past and the ghosts that returned in hallucinations. She could see her face emaciated by her dark circles, the insomnia that forced her to sleep at any time and in any place.
"Her judgment has been a little impaired lately," Ouryou Rikako confessed, looking down. "I wouldn't recommend it."
What really caught her attention was that Makishima had heard her conversation with Yashiro. Had he been spying on her, perhaps? Rikako even smiled wryly. In the end, Yashiro was not the only one with the strange hobby of spying on people.
"I can give her vision back."
Makishima held a firm and unrelenting stance, turning to head for the exit. Rikako took advantage of the moment to raise an eyebrow in surprise and disbelief. Still, the man was utterly convinced that he would make it, almost as if it were a matter of course for him. Rikako could tell, as she watched his walk, that he had a particular habit of ignoring others when he had already gotten what he wanted. The image of Yashiro returned to her mind once more, and she had to close her eyes for a second to focus.
"You can't enter her mind unless she allows you to," Rikako warned, pausing his walk halfway. "At least I've always tried to open its doors… but I can barely look through the keyhole."
Her words succeeded in filling him with a stupefaction that he did not deign to conceal. With a slightly arched eyebrow, he tilted his head in her direction to scrutinize her out of the corner of his eye with a dismal, haughty glow.
"Not to worry."
Makishima curled his lips in an honest smile, as he resumed his pace. The truth was, the more extravagant and difficult a tool was, the funnier it was for him to use it.