Source
https://kakuyomu.jp/works/16817139558323866579/episodes/16817330669161414700
“I heard this from a friend.”
When I was a college student, there was a strange old woman living in the apartment next door to mine.
She was a tired-looking woman with white hair who always walked with her eyes fixed on the ground, so she was constantly about to bump into people.
My friend had also almost bumped into her several times and had to twist out of the way.
She clearly seemed like someone who was not quite right in the head, so my friend was afraid to get involved with her.
The woman always carried a doll named “Taku chan” under her arm. The name was revealed because she occasionally called out to it.
It was a typical commercially available doll modeled after a baby.
It was dressed in cute baby clothes, but she carried it under her arm like luggage, which seemed odd.
If she were using it as a substitute for a child, she would probably hold it more carefully.
Sometimes she would walk while holding the doll by the hair with one hand, which was an unsettling sight.
My friend considered moving out immediately, but unfortunately, she didn’t have the money.
She regretted making such a hasty decision without considering the reason for the low rent.
However, to be honest, it was just creepy and didn’t cause any actual harm.
Considering the rent options, moving in a hurry could lead to problems like noise or other issues later on.
At least it’s quiet, and if you encounter her, you can just avoid her. It’s just creepy, nothing more.
If it becomes unbearable, I’ll move.
My friend decided that and decided to endure it for a while.
He also thought that since she’s just a skinny old woman, he could handle it if it came down to it.
A while later.
One night. When he returned home, there was a black plastic bag hanging on the doorknob.
He tried to pick it up, but immediately had a bad feeling, so he called his college friend. He said, “I don’t want to touch it alone.”
His friend was the type who enjoyed scary stories, so he happily came over even though it was a sudden call.
The two of them stood side by side and picked up the black bag.
The opening of the bag was tightly tied, so they tore it open forcefully to check inside.
Inside the bag was a doll with its limbs torn off.
He still remembers the shiny, round eyes staring up at him.
There was also a letter inside.
[Taku chan loves apples.
He’s a good boy who excels at his studies.
Please take care of him.]
The two looked at each other, then checked the dismembered doll again.
They had no idea what the purpose, meaning, or reason was.
Well, even if we overlook the fact that they arbitrarily forced it on their neighbor,
why would they remove the limbs before discarding it? It’s unclear why they removed them and put them inside together.
Perhaps it’s pointless to try to understand the actions of a crazy person.
It was too mysterious, so I thought about it for a while, but in the end, it made me feel sick, so I threw it away immediately.
The old woman disappeared after that night. There was no reason to ask about her, so I don’t know where she went.
My friend stayed there until graduation, choosing it for its cheap rent and convenience to the university.
There were no further scary experiences related to the old woman.
Even now, he occasionally recalls the doll in the plastic bag.
Each time, the most unsettling image flashes through his mind.
The doll’s groin area had been stabbed repeatedly with a knife or something similar.
—–Usually, at this point, someone would ask, “Was it scary?” but today was different.
“Takahiro, are there any things that scare you?”
The words I was about to say got stuck in my throat.
I was going to say, “This is a rare story about living people being scary” but…
Startled, I took a sip of tea from my cup to fill the silence.
Scary things.
Scary things, huh.
I’m not proud of it, but I’m afraid of everything. I’m afraid of everyone, young and old, male and female.
When I see an old man yelling, I run away. I’m uncomfortable around women who talk in high-pitched voices, so I move to the side of the road. I avoid children because I don’t know what they might do. When I see a man in a suit who looks like my boss at work, I feel dizzy.
Then there’s the debt that keeps piling up without me noticing. My mother, who somehow always finds me. Suddenly, I can’t read certain characters, like “Asahi” or “ringtone” and I hear strange ringing in my ears.
Even just standing up scares me.
I’ve always thought that this world is nothing but scary things.
Ever since I was born. In fact, I think the very fact that someone decided to give birth to me is terrifying.
“Why?”
But I felt like I couldn’t explain it properly, so I just laughed and asked her back.
This thing can understand words, but that doesn’t mean they can understand my heart. I didn’t have enough material to find the words I needed to express myself.
“Takahiro, you’re not really scared of ghost stories, are you?”
“…No, I do think they’re scary. But you know, I don’t react much.”
“Yeah, so let’s talk about the things that scare you, Takahiro.”
At least, I understood that this thing wanted to scare me.
Perhaps, as a supernatural being, it must be feared.
Well, this thing is already scary enough just by existing, but that’s not what it’s about.
Looking down at the mug, I leaned lightly against the partition and thought about it again.
Scary things.
Scary things…
“My mother, maybe.”
I didn’t mean to say it.
It just slipped out of my mouth.
“Julina?”
“…….Yeah.”
I tried to laugh and say, “Don’t call someone’s mother by her first name.” but I failed miserably.
I’ve never told this thing my mother’s name.
I don’t even want to talk about her. I never even bring her up in conversation.
Just seeing the name Takara Julina makes me feel sick. So, I usually try to keep her vague in my mind and just call her “that person.”
Even though it was so cold, I was sweating uncomfortably.
“Would you be scared if I brought Julina?”
“…..Scared? No, I just don’t want to.”
“No.”
“I really don’t want to, and I think I’d probably stop being friends with you.”
“Ugh.”
I hated it so much from the bottom of my heart that I couldn’t even pretend to be polite.
Her fingers were tangled at the edge of my vision.
She was anxious. Well, that makes sense. Right now, she only has me as a friend, so if I were to stop being her friend, she’d be in trouble.
“I won’t bring her, I mean it, Takahiro. Really.”
“I know. It’s just a hypothetical situation.”
I don’t know where that person is. Maybe she knows, though.
Maybe that person knows where I am, too.
Maybe she’ll come here, too.
I didn’t want to think about it, so I quickly gave up on the idea.
My neighbor at least keeps his promises not to do certain things.
It’s been proven. This guy always calls me Takahiro. I asked him to call me that, and he agreed.
“Hey, Takahiro.”
“Hm?”
“Would you be happy if Julina died?”
I just sat there for a while, closing my eyes.
It wasn’t asked with malice.
If anything, it might have been out of kindness.
What would happen if I answered yes?
What would happen? What would this neighbor do?
Suddenly, the “Thank you” comments on the website floated vaguely into my mind.
I slowly lifted my eyelids. My whole body felt unusually heavy, as if it weren’t my own.
“…Hmm, I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“Yeah. It’s complicated.”
“Complicated, huh?”
“…It is.”
I’ve thought more than once that it would be better if that person weren’t here. I’ve wished for them to die countless times. Really, countless times.
Once, I tried to stab that person with a knife while they were sleeping. It was definitely an impulsive action, but at the same time, a part of my mind remained calm.
I was in elementary school, so I knew that even if I killed that person now, I wouldn’t get caught.
Well, in the end, I put the knife back in the kitchen.
Because, you know, it’s disgusting. Why should I have to do such a horrible, disgusting thing because of a person who was born without my consent?
I still hate it now. Why do I have to bear such a disadvantageous social condition because of that person? It’s ridiculous.
Besides,
If that person died, there would be no one left in this world who needed me.
“Hey, Takahiro, next time, I want some gum.”
“Huh? What?”
“Gum.”
“Oh…gum. I’ll buy some next time.”
When did the conversation turn to gum?
I didn’t hear half of it, so I didn’t understand the flow of the conversation.
It’s been a long time since this guy moved into the apartment, but apparently no one had ever offered her food before.
On the day I brought back the gummy candy, my neighbor was curious about it, so I gave her the unopened package, and then he happily took the opened bag and ate it little by little.
She seemed to like it a lot, and since then she’s been enjoying a bag a week.
It’s good to have something to look forward to eating.
I really think it’s a good thing.
Really.
“Next time, definitely. Not the hard ones, but the soft ones.”
“Got it, got it.”
It seems they really like it. I could tell they were looking forward to it, so I couldn’t help but laugh and nod in agreement.
The neighbor laughed softly and said in an unusually cheerful voice.
“Thanks, Takahiro.”
It was a surprisingly soft tone.
It was a voice filled with genuine anticipation.
Such a reaction, as if I’d received the best gift of my life.
Just for some gum.
“Uh…”
I forced myself to swallow the first syllable that had slipped out.
Instead, I managed to mutter a usual greeting.
“…Goodnight, see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, goodnight.”
Still, dying would be nice.
After returning to the room, closing the window, and putting away the mug, I finally thought, “I’m glad I didn’t say it.”
At the same time, I also thought, “I should have said it.”
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