Boogiepop and Others

  BOOGIEPOP AND OTHERS

  (BOOGIEPOP WA WARAWANAI)

  © MEDIA WORKS / KOUHEI KADONO 1998

  First published in 1998 by Media Works Inc., Tokyo, Japan.

  English translation rights arranged with Media Works Inc.

  No portion of this book may be reproduced or transmitted In any form without written permission from the copyright holders.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or deed, is entirely coincidental.

  Seven Seas and the Seven Seas logo are trademarks of Seven Seas Entertainment, llC. All rights reserved.

  STAFF CREDITS

  English Translation: Andrew Cunningham

  Layout and Graphic Design: Jon Zamar & Nicky Lim

  Assistant Editor: Jason DeAngelis

  Editor: Adam Arnold

  Publisher: Seven Seas Entertainment

  Visit us online at www.gomanga.com.

  ISBN: 1-933164-16-6

  First printing; January, 2006

  OCR version: 1.0

  * * *

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Front Cover

  Color Art and Front Matter

  Table of Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter One - Romantic Warrior

  Interlude

  Chapter Two - The Return of the Fire Witch

  Interlude

  Chapter Three - No One Lives Forever

  Chapter Four - I Wish You Heaven

  Chapter Five - Heartbreaker

  Afterword

  Seven Seas Notes

  End Matter

  * * *

  SEVEN SEAS’ COMMITMENT TO TRANSLATION AUTHENTICITY

  JAPANESE NAME ORDER

  To ensure maximum authenticity in Seven Seas’ translation of Boogiepop and Others, all character names have been kept in their original Japanese name order with family name first and given name second. For copyright reasons, the names of Boogiepop creator Kouhei Kadono and illustrator Kouji Ogata appear in standard English name order.

  HONORIFICS

  In addition to preserving the original Japanese name order, Seven Seas is committed to ensuring that honorifics -- polite speech that indicates a person's status or relationship towards another individual -- are retained within this book. Politeness is an integral facet of Japanese culture and we believe that maintaining honorifics in our translations helps bring out the same character nuances as seen in the original work.

  The following are some of the more common honorifics you may come across while reading this and other books:

  -san - The most common of all honorifics, it is an all-purpose suffix that can be used in any situation where politeness is expected. Generally seen as the equivalent to Mr., Miss, Ms., Mrs., etc.

  -sama - This suffix is one level higher than “-san” and is used to confer great respect upon an individual.

  -dono - Stemming from the word “tono,” meaning “lord,” “-dono” signifies an even higher level than “-sama,” and confers the utmost respect.

  -kun - This suffix is commonly used at the end of boys’ names to express either familiarity or endearment. It can also be used when addressing someone younger than oneself or of a lower status.

  -chan - Another common honorific. This suffix is mainly used to express endearment towards girls, but can also be used when referring to little boys or even pets. Couples are also known to use the term amongst each other to convey a sense of cuteness and intimacy.

  Sempai - This title is used towards one's senior or “superior” in a particular group or organization. “Sempai” is most often used in a school setting, where underclassmen refer to upperclassmen as “sempai,” though it is also commonly said by employees when addressing fellow employees who hold seniority in the workplace.

  Kouhai - This is the exact opposite of “sempai,” and is used to refer to underclassmen in school, junior employees at the workplace, etc.

  Sensei - Literally meaning “one who has come before,” this title is used for teachers, doctors, or masters of any profession or art.

  Introduction

  Opening the shoji screen, the boy took a step onto the tatami of the darkened tea room.

  “............”

  Wordlessly, he stared into the center of the room. Cushions and low tables were scattered everywhere.

  Only a small amount of light managed to pierce the decorative screen above the door and enter the room, making it difficult to see anything clearly. But he could see the scene easily enough.

  In the center of the room was a girl. One look and he knew she was dead.

  She was upside-down, thick white cotton socks on slender legs thrust into the air like the arms of a cheerleader at a pep rally. Her shoulders were limp on the floor, her head twisted around so it faced the same direction as her body. There was no blood anywhere.

  Her long black hair seemed to flow across the tatami, and her vacant eyes just seemed to stare back at the boy.

  “............”

  The boy took a slow step backwards.

  As he did, something hot slid downwards from above, just grazing the tip of his nose.

  Startled, he glanced upward towards the ceiling.

  He froze.

  “You saw me,” said the killer hanging from the ceiling. It wore a girl's shape, but was a creature of indeterminate gender. “Now that you have seen me, I cannot allow you to live.” Its voice was somewhere between laughing and singing.

  A moment later, the boy felt his body flung aside, as the creature lunged down towards him.

  “-Gah!”

  For some reason, the boy felt oddly happy.

  ***

  ... The actual events probably form a very simple story. From a distance, they appear to be quite confusing; to have no clear threads connecting them whatsoever, but the reality is that this is undoubtedly a much more straightforward, commonplace tale.

  But from our individual standpoints, none of us were quite able to see the whole picture. All of the people who somehow had a part in this story were unable to see beyond their own unique role.

  My name is Niitoki Kei.

  I'm in my second year at Shinyo Academy, although I'm so small that I'm often mistaken for a junior high school student, or worse, some elementary school kid. Despite all this, I'm the president of the student discipline committee.

  “Kei's like a big sister. She might look like a kid, but there’s just something reliable about her,” my friends always tell me, half-mockingly.

  I don't consider myself to be a particularly serious person, but everyone around me seems to think that I am. They're always asking me for some type of advice or help, and I've got a major sort of glitch where I can't ever seem to tell them no.

  “Can you, Kei?”

  “Niitoki, please!”

  Someone says these words to me and I just can't settle down.

  But this has basically nothing to do with me being on the discipline committee.

  Our school is only an average, mid-level sort of place, but like many other high schools, it considers guidance to be the teacher's job, and the discipline committee is just there for decoration. It’s sad, really. There are a number of students who have run away from home or gone missing this year, but none of the teachers care enough to put forth any effort into finding them, and all the headmaster does is whine about how much of a headache they are, and how poorly they reflect upon the school. Whatever.

  All this negligent attitude does is irritate the hell out of me. My tiny little sense of right and wrong is next to useless. It's not like they'll ever listen to me.

>   If anything of any significance happened to us, we wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing about it.

  As it was, we knew nothing.

  See, all the people close to me, myself included, had no way of knowing each other's problems or just what we were fighting.

  We simply had to guess blindly, and just act on our gut.

  The man who came from the sky, the woman made from his design -- the twisted, strange events they brought about must have begun around that time.

  Right as my heart had been broken.

  Chapter One

  Romantic Warrior

  Takeda Keiji

  third year, class F

  1.

  The story of Boogiepop is one that weighs heavily upon me. It's a subject that I still haven't finished sorting out my feelings about.

  He's no longer around, but I'm not really sure if I'm supposed to feel relieved about that fact or not.

  He was... unusual, to say the least.

  I'd never met anyone as strange as him in the seventeen years that I've been alive, and I doubt I ever will again.

  After all, he was a transforming super-hero.

  That sort of thing is only fun if they're on TV. If you're standing right next to one, it causes nothing but trouble. And, in my case, it wasn't exactly somebody else's problem.

  I never once saw him smile.

  He always looked grim, and would look at me and say depressing things like, “Takeda-kun, this world is filled with flaws.” This, with the exact same pretty face that always made my head reel.

  But Boogiepop is gone now.

  I'll never know if everything he told me was a lie or not.

  ***

  One Sunday, with the middle of fall fast approaching, I was standing in front of the station, waiting for my girlfriend, Miyashita Touka. We were supposed to meet at eleven, but it was already three o’clock, and she had yet to appear.

  Did I mention she was a year younger than me? Apparently, her family was pretty strict, and for some stupid reason, I was expressly forbidden from even attempting to call her house. All I could ever do was simply wait for her to get in contact with me. So, once again, I was forced to stand there fretting while I patiently tried to wait for her to show.

  “Hey, Takeda-sempai!” someone called out.

  I turned around to find Saotome standing there. He was my kouhai, on the same committee as I was. There were three other students with him, two of them girls.

  “What's this, a double date?” I said, aware that I was coming off as old-fashioned.

  “Something like that. You waiting for yours?” Saotome gave off pretty much the same impression whether in uniform or out. Wherever he was, he seemed to blend in. “You do realize that dating's against school rules, right?”

  “Look who's talking.”

  “Oh, you're on the discipline committee as well?” the guy next to Saotome asked.

  ‘Oh, yeah, sorry,’ I thought... but I couldn't say that to a kouhai, so I just shrugged.

  “Then I guess we've got nothing to worry about,” he said, putting his arm around the shoulders of the girl next to him.

  Guess they were together. Go figure.

  “Yeah, I don't give a damn either, but the teachers are a different matter. Better keep an eye out so they don't catch you,” I grumbled.

  They all gave knowing laughs, then nodded and took their leave. As they walked off, I heard one of the girls say, “Guess who's been dumped!”

  All I could think was, ’Mind your own damn business!’

  I mean, it’s not that I actually like being on the discipline committee. It's just that someone’s had to take the job and that someone ended up being me.

  That day, Touka never did show.

  (Have I really been dumped? Surely there would have been some sort of warning, right?)

  I waited despondently until five, unable to let things go.

  I knew I had to, though.

  I dragged myself away, feeling like the world had cast me aside. I was the only person in my class not going to college. Heck, everyone else was off studying for entrance exams. It’s no wonder I felt so left out.

  Then it happened.

  Staggering towards me was the kind of guy who would stand out in any crowd.

  He was a skinny young man, with roughly cropped hair that stood on end. He wore a badly tom, dirty white shirt that was just flung over his body. The shirt was unbuttoned, leaving his bare chest exposed. The bottoms of his pants legs trailed along the ground as his shoeless bare feet shuffled across the pavement.

  There was a serious looking wound on his head, and half his face was covered in blood. Though mostly dried, the blood stuck to his hair in clumps. One look at him, and I knew he was a mess, yet I couldn't avert my gaze.

  His eyes were unfocused, and he was moaning aloud. This was not some new fashion, but clearly a bona fide, genuinely crazy psychopath. Probably on drugs.

  (Yeesh, there are actually guys like this showing up in our town now too...?)

  Spooked, I averted my course, giving him a wide berth. Everyone else was doing the same, so there was a sort of air pocket forming around him.

  He tottered along in the center for a few moments.

  Then, suddenly, he collapsed to the ground.

  Before anyone could react, he began to sob quietly.

  “Enhhh... enhhhhh... “ he sniveled. “Unngghhhhh.”

  Great, slobby tears rolled down his cheeks, heedless of his surroundings.

  A circle of people -- myself among them -- formed around him, watching. None of us dared move towards him.

  It was the strangest thing that I'd ever seen.

  It was bizarre, like something out of a surreal Eastern European movie.

  But there was one person who did approach him.

  He was shorter than me and dressed in a long, black cape with a collar that wrapped around him like a great coat, and a black hat like a shrunken pipe or a top hat without a brim. The hat was a size too big for his head, and half covered his eyes.

  On the hat and cape were gleaming bits of metal, like rivets or some sort of badge, sewn along the hem. It gave off the impression of armor.

  To match his all-black outfit, he wore black lipstick. His face was so white; it was like the ink painted on top of a glossy Noh mask.

  Clearly, this was another crazy person on the loose.

  The cloaked figure leaned his black hat over to the side, and whispered in the psycho's ear.

  The psycho stared up at the cloaked figure with empty eyes.

  “ “

  The man nodded and the psycho stopped crying.

  There was a slight stir from the crowd around them. It seemed that some form of silent communication had been established.

  The cloaked figure's face snapped up and glared around at us. It was clear that he was seething with anger.

  “Do you think to do nothing when you see a fellow human crying?!” he suddenly shouted, loud and angry, in a clear, boyish soprano voice. “Is this what the advancement of civilization has led to?! Urban life weeding out and killing the weak?! It's appalling!”

  The crowd concluded that he was simply another loony and avoided eye contact, quickly dispersing. I started to follow suit, but he spun towards me, catching my eye. It was then that I finally got a clear look at his face.

  Words can't begin to do justice to the shock I felt at that moment.

  Perhaps the best example I can give is to describe it like one of those nopperabou ghost stories-a faceless ghost, where you expect it to have no face, but instead, it looks just like you. At first you just don't get it, but then you do, and it totally freaks you out.

  I stared at him, eyes wide open and mouth agape.

  But for him, I seemed to be little more than another face in the crowd, and he soon shifted his glare to the man next to me.

  Two policemen came rushing up. At last, someone had reported the psycho.

  “That him?”

  “G
et up!”

  The policemen roughly tried to yank the man to his feet. He made no attempt to resist.

  “No need to be so violent. He's afraid,” the black-hatted figure said, not fazed by the idea of lecturing policemen either.

  “What are you? His family?”

  “Just passing by,” the figure replied softly. “Don't twist his arm like that!”

  “Step aside!” the policeman shouted, as another tried to shove the cloaked figure away.

  But the cloaked figure bent his body like a dancer, and evaded the policeman's sweaty arm.

  “Wah!” the policeman cried, overbalancing and falling to his knees.

  It was like some kind of kung fu or maybe tai chi. All I know is that the cloaked figure's motions came off as being extremely graceful and fluid.

  “This is what happens when you resort to violence,” the cloaked figure spat.

  “And that's what I call interfering with a police officer!” the cop bellowed, springing to his feet.

  “Try performing your duty before you accuse me of interfering with it. It is your job to save people who are in trouble, not to trample them beneath your feet,” the cloaked figure said, as if delivering a speech.

  Meanwhile, the police had forgotten about the psycho, who had begun aimlessly tottering off down the street again with surprising speed.

  The policemen turned hurriedly to give chase, shouting, “Hey, YOU! Stop right there!”

  The cloaked figure in the black hat spun around, his cape fluttering, and dashed away.

  “Ah! Wait!” The policemen clearly couldn't decide which quarry to chase.

  The cloaked figure moved like the wind, and vanished just as quickly around the next corner.

  I was left standing there, stunned.

  I was not stunned because of the cloaked figure's bizarre behavior. Well, maybe I was, but much more shocking was having the image of his face burned into my eyes. The hat was low on his face and partially concealed it, but there was no mistaking those big, almond shaped eyes

  ... they belonged to the girl that I had been waiting for all day -- Miyashita Touka!