Chapter 77: Psychometry – Takato Kotoha ⑤

"Sorry for waking you. But the person here is definitely someone you should meet."

"It's fine. I wasn’t asleep anyway."

I had already sensed someone approaching the futon where I was lying. Mio could move without a sound, so the fact that I noticed her this time meant she’d deliberately let me.

Still weighed down and sluggish, I splashed water on my face.

I was still in my sleepwear, but at that ambiguous hour before dawn—too late at night or too early in the morning—there was no point changing clothes just to greet a visitor at such an unholy time.

Well, assuming they were even human.

With a sigh, I unlatched the door chain just enough to peek outside.

Through the crack, I saw who was standing there—and my eyes widened.

"You’re alive!?"

It was Kotoha-chan.

I had just heard of her death only moments ago. Was that report false?

Before I could say anything else, Kotoha bowed her head.

"I’m sorry. I disappointed you. I’m dead."

"...A zombie?"

"Well, yes."

My heart sank again. Losing a friend was still a fact—and now I might have been dragged into something even worse.

Slowly, I closed the door, undid the chain, and opened it fully.

Zombie or not, she seemed rational. She wasn’t about to lunge at me, and if she did, Mio would intervene instantly.

I studied Kotoha-chan again.

She looked just as she had when alive. No missing parts, no rot, no smell. Her shoulders even rose and fell slightly, as if breathing.

Kotoha-chan, who had kept her head bowed until the door was fully open, now slowly lifted it.

There was one difference from before—her eyes.

Her once deep brown eyes were now gray.

Kotoha-chan’s ability was psychometry—reading minds.

As far as I knew, no one ever possessed more than a single ability.

But the world is vast. Maybe such exceptions existed. Naname-san’s power was practically a hybrid of telepathy and foresight anyway.

In any case, the question wasn’t who owned the ability. What mattered was whether it was truly a power—and whether it was used with consent.

"Is there someone like that in Public Security?"

"Yes. You’ve met her too. Tome Ochiai-san."

"...Got it."

Dust… something. Her villain persona’s name slipped my mind.

Dust—its meaning was dust. Or ash, depending on context.

In the end, I’d forgotten to ask about Tome-san’s ability. Kotoha-chan supplied the name I’d missed.

"Dust Reunion."

Reunion meant reunion—or even a class reunion.

Dust Reunion.

As the name of someone who could bring the dead back to life, it was clever.

"As for the conditions of revival, I’ll keep those secret. They involve Tome-san’s interests."

"Understood."

If Kotoha-chan was standing here thanks to that ability, Tome-san must still be alive.

Just as Mio had said. Even factoring in Kotoha-chan’s death, the information lined up.

There had to be conditions for resurrection.

Of course there were. No ability was limitless.

Kotoha-chan didn’t go into detail, but one thing was certain: she still retained her mind-reading power.

"Can I repeat to you the same words D.E.T.O.N.A.T.E. once said? I’m not confident in my English pronunciation, so I can’t say them aloud."

I’d exchanged countless words with D.E.T.O.N.A.T.E., but I immediately knew which she meant.

Dismiss Every Trespass, Own None; Absolve Thyself Entirely.

When D.E.T.O.N.A.T.E. had lost someone dear and I’d asked if it was my fault, those were the words I’d been given.

Seeing my expression, Kotoha-chan gave a wry smile.

"I’m sorry. I’m not confident in my own words, so I borrowed the ones that once moved you. I hope I didn’t offend."

"No. I’ve got a friend who’s a total quote fiend. I’m used to it."

"Heh. I’m glad you’d put me in that category."

Naturally, the “quote fiend” was Naname-san.

In her case, she seemed to believe using human words made things easier for me to grasp. It was probably true—quotations from eras and cultures closer to mine carried more weight. But since Naname-san herself wasn’t human, she never quite caught those nuances.

Maybe, to her, “human” was just one big indistinct category.

Still, I enjoyed looking up the sources, so I had no complaints.

"Bitvine is safe, of course. Shikarak-san would never make such a blunder."

"I see. That’s a relief."

I was glad to hear Bitvine was unharmed. On top of that, it reassured me that Shikarak-san’s love for his daughter was genuine.

"As for the dead among espers, it’s pretty much only me. It’s not… reassuring. All the uncooperative villains have fled."

Bad news, on both counts.

The villains running free was a headache. Raiden was probably tearing his hair out right now. After all the trouble we went through to capture them.

And—non‑esper members of Public Security had probably died in even greater numbers.

"Professor Tsukishima is safe."

"Good."

It saddened me that Kotoha-chan seemed to think it only natural for someone like her to have died.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d mourn my death so much."

"…Of course I’m sad. Can we meet like this again?"

"Yes. If Inori-san doesn’t mind, I’ll come again."

"You’d know better than I do whether I mind, wouldn’t you, Kotoha-chan?"

Kotoha’s brows dipped softly, her expression turning hesitant.

"Talking with me must be exhausting. It’s not my intention to be a burden."

"You quoted D.E.T.O.N.A.T.E.’s words. You can read how my past self felt, right? You know how I felt when I heard you’d died, don’t you?"

I looked at Kotoha-chan in silence, and tears welled at the corners of her eyes.

I was startled, but it made sense. If she could sense my feelings directly, then of course Kotoha-chan could cry for me.

"…Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad."

"No, these are happy tears. Somehow, it makes me feel glad to be alive. Even though I’m dead right now."

It was a joke you couldn’t laugh at.

"Inori-san, that’s just needless worry. If Tome-san’s ability were really that powerful, there’d be far more dead people wandering around the world, wouldn’t there?"

"Omokage’s around, though, right?"

If it’s Omokage, he can copy Tome-san’s ability. The number of dead he could multiply would double—though honestly, I couldn’t imagine Tome-san obediently following Public Security’s orders.

But Omokage… I could picture him doing it without hesitation.

"Heh. Inori-san, you’re probably the only one who thinks Omokage-san is easy to handle."

"Seriously?"

He seemed so easy to control. Was he actually some wild dog who bit everyone except the person he’d chosen as his master?

I’d only ever seen Omokage in front of me, so it was hard to imagine otherwise. But if someone who could read minds said Omokage was difficult to deal with, then it was probably true.

"But… I’d like you to think of me the same way you think of Omokage-san. If you’re ever in trouble, please come to me, okay?"

"Uh… oh."

"That’s what I want to write on my Tanabata wish strip right now."

"I see."

I decided to stop thinking about anything complicated. Normally I’d feel guilty for running from my thoughts, but with Kotoha-chan sitting right in front of me, I could tell myself it was for her sake.

Facing Kotoha-chan was exhausting, but at the same time there was something soothing about it.

It was a strange, almost amusing feeling. If possible, I would have liked to enjoy more of it while she was still alive.

Apparently, Kotoha-chan had come to tell me about someone’s death. She said she was going home now and gave me a smile that concealed the sadness of it.

"Hell’s actually not such a bad place. It’s not all that different from the living world."

"Uh… you know, depending on who hears that, it might sound like a pretty despair-inducing comment…"

I couldn’t read minds, so I didn’t know whether Kotoha-chan’s words were a dark joke or the truth.

There are plenty of beings in the world who wield strange powers. A world after death existing wouldn’t be all that surprising.

Maybe Enma Daiō really does exist. I’ve said so many offhand things in my life; I’ll probably have my tongue ripped out after I die. Yikes.

"Please come visit sometime, okay?"

"Yeah… someday."

I thought to myself that I’d just gained one more thing to look forward to after death.