When Supernatural Battles Became Commonplace: Volume 11 by Kota Nozomi

When Supernatural Battles Became Commonplace: Volume 11 by Kota Nozomi

Author:Kota Nozomi [NOZOMI, KOTA]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: J-Novel Club
Published: 2024-07-02T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 6: Sagamicizm of the Mother and...

If you were to ask me whether or not I’m alive, what could I possibly say other than “Yes, I am”?

There’s no big twist about me having been a ghost all along coming up, I assure you. I am alive. Alive and well. I breathe, I eat, I excrete, I jack off—I have the same bodily functions and metabolic cycle that every other flesh-and-blood human being does.

I’m alive...but what if? What if, in spite of all the irrefutable proof of my mortality, I were to operate under the assumption that I am, in fact, dead? If I were to do so, then there’s one thing I could say with certainty: I would know, without question, the precise day on which I died.

On that day, I experienced death. On that day, I was ejected from this world’s dramatis personae. On that day, I became the reader I am.

There are a few people out there who know about what happened back then...but there’s only one individual in this world whom I personally, deliberately told the truth to. Just him—my former friend and current acquaintance.

“Hey, mom. Been a while. I brought a friend to see you today.”

I was in the second ward of the local general hospital—the ward where long-term inpatients were lodged—in an individual room on the third floor. The room was plain and undecorated, its only feature to speak of being a white bed with white sheets where a woman lay sleeping. Though her face was emaciated, there was still something about her—a certain clear, striking beauty—that made it impossible to think she was wasting away. Her name was Sagami Shizuka, and she was my mother.

“Whoops! My mistake. Not a friend—an acquaintance. It’s a little complicated, but I’ll explain the whole situation some other time,” I said as I sat down on the stool by the bed, then turned to look back at the doorway. “Well, Andou? Don’t just stand there. You’re blocking the hallway. Come on inside.”

Andou didn’t say a word, but he stepped inside and silently slid the door shut. I pulled over a second stool for him, which he stiffly sat down on. He looked shaken...or, well, more like he was at a loss for how he should react to the situation he found himself in.

“Let me introduce you, mom. This is Andou Jurai. We go to different middle schools, but things sort of just worked out and we ended up getting to know each other,” I said, speaking to her like I always did. My mom, as always, didn’t reply. All I could make out from her was the ever so faint sound of her breathing as she slumbered away. You’d almost think she wasn’t alive at all.

I gave Andou a look. He still seemed rather nervous, but he said “Nice to meet you” and offered a slight nod in her direction.

It was spring—the start of our third year in middle school. We’d settled into our vague and ambiguous “acquaintances, not friends” relationship, never drawing too close or drifting too far away from one another.



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