Chapter 32 Midnight Subway (1) My sister has been dead for a year...
My sister passed away a year ago.
Watanabe Mie opened her eyes, and what came into view was the yellowed ceiling. Another day had begun, or rather, it was just a monotonous repetition of her daily life.
Boredom and loneliness had long become Watanabe Mie's daily routine, with the alarm clock ringing on a set time.
Mie Watanabe covered her ear with one hand and, relying on muscle memory, reached for the alarm clock button to turn it off. When she touched the cold casing, she suddenly remembered the days when her younger sister, Mika, would always try to turn off the alarm clock for her.
Back then, Mika would wake up early, time her alarm clock to ring, and when Watanabe Mie was woken up, Mika would hold up the ringing alarm clock and smile smugly, her eyes curving into crescents: "Big sister is so slow!"
The apartment was still that small one-bedroom, one-kitchen house. The wooden floorboards creaked slightly as she got up, the sound particularly clear in the quiet room.
In the past, I always felt that it was too crowded to move around. My American and Canadian dolls were piled up on the sofa, my desk was filled with comic books and unfinished homework, and even the refrigerator was crammed with milk and pudding for two people.
But now, Watanabe Mie looked at the other corner of the room, at the desk and bed carefully covered with a white cotton cloth.
The edges of the white cloth were already dusty, but she still didn't have the courage to lift it.
Just like I dare not touch the scattered hair clips in Meijia's drawer, dare not smell the half-empty bottle of perfume she left behind with its citrus scent, and dare not open the notebook filled with doodles.
The last page of the notebook features a drawing of two little figures holding hands, with the words "I want to be with my sister forever" written next to it in watercolor by Meijia.
Speaking of which, the handwriting in that notebook was a wish I made on my 15th birthday in the US and Canada.
...
If only my wish could come true.
...
It has been a year and three months since Meijia left me.
Leukemia first robbed Meijia of her most beautiful long hair, and then robbed her of happiness and freedom.
Mie Watanabe could only watch helplessly as her sister lay on her hospital bed, tears streaming down her face.
"elder sister."
The image of Meijia's frail appearance kept flashing before her eyes.
I could almost hear the calls of the US and Canada echoing in my ears.
Mie Watanabe walked to the dressing table, picked up the wooden photo frame, the edges of which were worn and scratched.
In the photo, Meijia is wearing a pink dress and is nestled close to her. Sunlight falls on their clasped hands, and also on countless memories.
Watanabe Mie gently stroked the cool surface of the photo frame, a dull pain shooting through her chest and heart.
Those dull pains, in every recollection of her daily life in the US and Canada, became an essential part of her life, just like breathing.
Taking the tram is a daily routine for Watanabe Mie.
Squeezed into sardine-can-like carriages, people were forced to eliminate all polite distance, leaving only the smells of sweat, perfume, and the fishy stench of sleep deprivation.
Mie Watanabe gripped the cold handrail, her body swaying with the train, her eyes gazing indifferently at the buildings and viaducts rushing past the window.
Everyone's face was blurred, and Miho Watashita didn't even have the energy to recognize their faces, even her long-time colleagues.
Most of the people here share a similar weariness and numbness with Mie Watanabe.
Occasionally, fragmented conversations would drift over my ears, about work, about love, about... some ambiguous rumors circulating in the city.
"There have been a lot of urban legends lately... I don't know if they're true or not."
"That's all a lie."
"Who knows? Maybe those things really do exist..."
"Ugh! Stop talking, it's too scary."
These words entered Watanabe Mie's ears unconsciously, but did not actually enter her mind.
Urban legends? Miho Watanabe's thoughts drifted slowly away.
The bizarre and fantastical things that only exist in online rumors seem ridiculously unreal and distant compared to her current mundane, tedious, and numb reality.
She didn't even have the energy to be curious about those bizarre plots—her world was never full of suspense, only endless work, bills to pay, and endless longing for the US and Canada, which were the real daily routines she couldn't escape day after day.
Overtime work is also the norm.
The lights on the company ceiling always shone with a kind of irritating and pale light, illuminating everyone's tired faces, while the sound of typing on keyboards echoed.
Today was no exception. When she finally pressed the send button and submitted the results of the project, the hands of the wall clock had already quietly slid to 11:30 p.m.
"Oh no..." Watashita Mie frowned and cursed under her breath; she had missed the regular last bus.
She leaned on the edge of the table for a while before she could barely stand. Her bones felt like they were rusted, and every movement made a dull sound. Her shoulders, back, and even her muscles were silently screaming in pain.
She stretched, slowly packed her backpack, and walked out of the deserted office area. The cold night wind hit her face, making her shiver.
The thought of paying a hefty taxi fare back to that desolate apartment stirred a mix of frustration and loneliness within me.
The cold night wind pierced through Watanabe Mie's thin suit jacket, and she instinctively hugged her arms tighter.
The neon lights between the high-rise buildings still flicker, outlining the city's cold yet glamorous silhouette.
She walked toward the station where she usually took the tram, wondering whether to walk to the main road further away to hail a cab or use a ride-hailing app.
Just then, she stopped.
The entrance to the underground station I frequent was still lit up.
Moreover, faint, indistinct announcements could be heard from deep within, broken and indistinct, but seemingly indicating: "...the last train is coming...approaching the station..."
"Hmm?" Watanabe Mie tilted her head, a little puzzled.
The last train usually doesn't run this late, does it?
In my previous memory, the last bus on the route leading to her residence should have ended before midnight.
Perhaps it was added at the last minute? Or maybe I just remembered it wrong?
Is my memory really that bad?
Extreme fatigue amplified her desire to save on transportation costs; taking the tram home was better than spending thousands of yen on a taxi.
This small benefit was quite attractive to her, who was struggling financially. The fleeting doubt was easily suppressed by her exhaustion and thrifty thoughts.
She barely thought about it anymore, and her feet turned toward the stairs leading underground.
The further down you go, the faster the noise outside gets shut out.
The station was unusually empty, and the overhead lights emitted a pale, cold light that illuminated everything clearly, yet somehow seemed unreal.
The smooth floor tiles reflected the light, extending towards the empty ticket gate, with only her footsteps echoing in the silent space.
Tap, tap, tap...
Each sound was so clear it was jarring.
I don’t know if it was just Miho Watashita’s imagination, but the night wind here seemed to be colder than the one on the ground.
The automatic ticket gate was lit with a green light, and she took out her transportation card.
"drop--"
The electronic sounds that we usually take for granted sound unusually sharp and jarring in the excessively quiet environment.
The cold, mechanical sound made Miho Watashi's heart skip a beat.
A strange sense of unease, like a subtle electric current, crept up her spine.
It's too quiet, too cold, too... empty.
This was unlike the train station she was used to; it exuded an eerie feeling that was both strange and familiar.
Exhaustion overwhelmed Mei Hui's desire to go home and rest. She shook her head, forcibly suppressing the strange feeling in her heart, attributing the chill to fatigue and sensitivity in the dead of night.
She quickly passed through the ticket gate and walked towards the empty platform.
The air on the platform was colder than in the passageway.
Mie Watanabe rubbed her arms.
Time seems to stretch out here, and the flow of time slows down.
The lights remained a pale, unwarm glow, illuminating every corner of the platform clearly, including her long, solitary shadow cast on the cold ground.
She glanced at the digital clock on the platform; it showed 11:55 PM.
It seemed there were still a few minutes before the last train, as announced on the broadcast, arrived at the station.
She wrapped her coat tighter around herself and paced back and forth, trying to ward off the chill and the growing unease in her heart.
Time passed little by little...
Just as Watanabe Mie was getting impatient and almost gave up, deciding to go out and hail a taxi—
Without warning, a subway train silently glided into the station.
Its appearance was very sudden. Watashita Mie barely heard the friction and rumble that a railway track should have. When she saw the subway train, she was stunned for a moment and felt that this train was somewhat different from the ones she had seen before.
The car's paint job was the familiar company paint, but it looked dull and old.
The design also seems to be a bit older than the trains currently in operation, with details that exude a sense of the past. What's even more peculiar is the lighting inside the carriages, which is not the bright white light of usual, but a dim and yellowish light, somewhat like a power shortage.
Through the train window, one could see what appeared to be passengers inside, but they were indistinct and their figures were blurry, as if viewed through frosted glass. They sat or stood quietly without making a sound, which was quite eerie.
The train slowly came to a stop, but the doors did not open immediately.
Just as Mie Watanabe was hesitating about whether or not to take this subway train—at the very moment before the doors were about to open.
A familiar voice reached Watanabe Mie's ears.
"Sister, come on up here! Here, come here!"
That voice—!
Watanabe Mie's breath caught in her throat; it was as if all the blood in her body had frozen at that moment.
That's...it's my younger sister Mika's voice!
There's no mistake! That vibrant voice, tinged with a hint of coquetry, is the voice she's been searching for in her dreams!
Just like the US and Canada before they got sick... full of vitality.
But... how is that possible?!
Impossible! Absolutely impossible!
The US and Canada are dead!
I personally received that cold urn containing ashes!
She watched with her own eyes as the small coffin was sent into the crematorium.
This must be a hallucination!
Is it because you're too tired?
Or is it that the auditory hallucinations are caused by lovesickness?
Her gaze fell on the carriage from which the sound came; it was one of the middle carriages towards the back, and the lights inside seemed dimmer than in the other carriages.
The figures of the passengers inside became even more blurred. They all seemed to be in fixed positions, silent, with no one looking out the window, and no one looking at her, as if they were just silhouettes on a backdrop.
A terrible sense of unease and horror swept over her entire body.
But—but the sound was so real!
Every tone, every shift in intonation, overlapped with the sounds that had replayed countless times in the depths of her memory!
Her younger sister Mika's voice pierced through the weak defenses she had built with reason almost precisely.
At this moment, his overwhelming longing for his sister completely broke through the dam.
More than 365 days and nights of solitude, more than 365 days and nights of silent cries, more than 365 days and nights of tears shed while looking at the photograph—
These pent-up longings instantly overwhelmed all of Watanabe Mie's fears and doubts.
So what if it's an illusion?
So what if it's a dream?
Even if it's only a one in ten thousand chance.
She wanted to see her one more time...
She wanted to hear her say one more thing...
She longed to recapture that warmth she had long since lost.
“Mecca…” Her lips trembled as she unconsciously murmured the name, tears welling up in her eyes instantly.
Just then, the train doors made a soft "plop" sound and slowly opened.
At the same time, a sharp and piercing warning sounded, indicating that the car doors were about to close.
Beep beep beep!
The door was open for a very short time.
The decision-making time is only a split second.
The rational warnings were completely swallowed up by the overwhelming tide of emotion.
Driven by intense desire, Watanabe Miho's mind went blank, and her body acted before she could think.
She stumbled and staggered towards the dimly lit carriage from which her sister's voice was coming.
The moment she lunged into the carriage, the doors closed silently and swiftly behind her.
It also isolated her from the ordinary and weary world that Watanabe Mie was familiar with.
The train began to move silently...
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