“Good for you, then. Even though it’s modified for your recoil tolerance, it still takes a toll on your body,” she comments.
“Plus, I’d have to file a report on the purpose and rounds used,” he adds.
“Yeah, and I’m the one who always writes those reports. So, what’s the second thing?”
“I learned a lot about your… taste in underwear, Norman.”
“…”
“And… there. It’s finished.”
Shizuku stands with a light bounce,
moving to pick up the violin from the bed.
“Well, Norman, will you listen?”
“Of course. What’s the title?”
She thinks for a moment,
and then says.
“Hmm, how about ‘Special’?”
A smile graces her face—
not her usual twisted smirk, but a gentle, youthful smile.
She may be a flower that blooms in darkness,
but a flower is still a flower,
blossoming only for the one she wants to see.
●
Shizuku began playing music.
It would be surprising to those who knew the usual Shizuku.
A girl who looked at the entire world with disinterested eyes, lifting the corners of her mouth in a sardonic smile.
A sound one could not imagine coming from her.
Soothing the heart of the listener, calming the soul just by hearing it. A melody as if basking in the warm sunlight of a field under the blue sky. Music that could embrace anyone, no matter who they were. A warm glow piercing through a darkness that should have had no light.
That was the music Norman Hamish heard from Shizuku – Teardrop.
While Norman accepted the monster that was Shizuku, she too wanted to keep touching his heart. Because he did not fear her abnormality, did not break, and remained by her side.
From the moment they first met, he smiled gently at her ‘Echo Resounding Tearflower’ ability, reached out his hand to her.
How much of a relief that was.
Well, she was a bit unsatisfied that it wasn’t just for her alone, but there was nothing to be done about that.
Glancing down slightly, she continued playing the violin, looking around the room.
A small room. Shizuku’s small world. The window was completely shut, rejecting the outside world.
All over this world were hundreds of sheets of music scores scattered.
All transcribed through self-study, meant to be played for Norman – her life’s work.
Until then they had been separate pieces, now compiled into this ‘special’ composition.
But he would not know.
That the music she was playing now, the scores strewn about the room – all of it was her rendering into music the words imparted by Norman.
It’s not like she had perfect pitch or could accurately transpose language into musical scales. She simply transcribed as her heart trembled, so he had no way to know.
The reason they were scattered was simple too.
Even if her ‘《Lingering Echoes – Tears of the Flowers》” ability activated unintentionally, the scattered pieces were just memories of Norman. Visions only relating to him, which she would love to see anytime.
In fact, on days without work with Norman, she either shut herself in obsessively watching visions of him, or composing music from those visions.
The reason she didn’t study music formally was straightforward too. The titles were a bit too obvious, so maybe she should study naming a bit. But she had no need for anyone else’s research – music was an accumulation by many people, and Shizuku needed none of that.
All she wanted were the feelings imparted by him.
Her abnormality prevented her from going out casually. Without Norman accompanying her on Cartesius work, she couldn’t even step outside. It took quite some time before she could go out to buy daily necessities and groceries herself.
Being shut in a dark hole was her only choice.
Keeping her bud closed because there was only one person she wanted to show it to.
So in this room, enveloped in his heart, she played the heart given to them by him.
Shizuku-Teardrop was a monster, but
Norman Hamish treated her like a human being.
That’s why she liked him. That’s why she loved him.
“—–Phew, that’s it. How was it?”
“Yeah. Just listening made my heart tremble.”
Smiling at his words, she nestled up to him.
The tips of her swaying hair glowed blue, like the pulsing of her heart.
Then, bringing her lips close to Norman’s as he sat,
This girl, who usually rejected the entire world with a sardonic smile,
Poured all the affection she had into the brightest smile, like a flower blossoming in the sun, for this one person alone.
“—-Yes, this melody warms me.”
●
The moment their lips met – she saw a vision.
The night sky. The distant lights of the city stretching out.
Parts of this scene were glitched with noise, the image not quite clear.
She immediately understood.
—-This was a vision of the future.
Visions of the future occurred suddenly, and the image clarity was low.
Not knowing when it would happen, or what future it depicted, to Shizuku it was nothing but a nuisance.
But still, she saw it.
Norman Hamish falling into pitch darkness,
as if being swallowed up by a deep abyss, where everything would end.
And she saw one more thing.
At the bottom of the darkness Norman was falling into.
One person, just looking up at him – unable to do anything, the figure of Shizuku-Teardrop.
READ THE ORIGINAL TRANSLATION AT LOCALIZERMEERKAT.PAGES.DEV
Interval 1
“Well, how to put it, that ‘Tearflower’ ability. It’s something I’ve thought about before.”
As the conversation reached a pause, Jim stroked his chin and tilted his head.
“It’s rather inwardly aggressive, don’t you think? Normally people don’t just suddenly kiss like that.”
“It was stimulating, got my heart racing.”
“You really… Anyway, what was with that pillow talk at the end, I didn’t quite hear that part.”
“The song she composed was really good. A reminder that the ‘heart’ is not always a beautiful thing.”
Norman nodded with an unsettling grin, making Jim shudder slightly.
“Still…I’m saddened by her death too. She had a good sense.”
“…You knew her?”
“She was famous in high society. We discussed fashion together.”
Shaking his head, Jim glanced over the documents in his hands and opened his mouth in mild exasperation.
“Just the killer’s lover, really. A bold move, killing the master yet not fleeing or hiding, remaining at the residence.”
“One could say he could not.”
“True. As an ‘Unlaws’ he was quite insignificant – Category I rank.”
“That explanation is unnecessary.”
“When prompted, I’m compelled to provide it.”
Now it was Norman’s turn to give Jim a sidelong glance.
Enjoying his gaze, Jim continued:
“Unlaws have degrees of power. The category rank an Unlaws awakens to.”
He raised his index finger.
“Do you recall my area of expertise, Norman?”
“Unlaws types, was it?”
“Category ranks! Don’t forget.”
Grumbling, his demeanor soon returned to normal.
“Category I is dull to me. Mere budding monsters. Let’s move on.”
He flipped through the documents.
In addition to Erutière, there were photos of an alley and several more of another kind.
Corpses.
Five mangled dead bodies strewn about the street.
“Category II is a bit more interesting.”
“I beg to differ.”
“You and I rarely see eye to eye.”
Chuckling wryly, he continued:
“At Category II, their abnormality stabilizes to an extent. The difference from Category I is giving it a name – what kind of existence it is, what it can do.”
In Shizuku-Teardrop’s case:
What kind of existence – One that drops teardrops into others’ hearts, rippling out like a flower.
What it can do – Shake hearts, resonating with that lingering echo.
—-The ‘Lingering Echoes – Tears of the Flowers’ that shakes hearts.
“One could say it becomes more akin to the superpowers or magic imagined by all. As an aside, names like ‘Teardrop’ or ‘Hellhound’ become codenames for the abnormality. Furthermore, compounding the words like ‘Lingering Echoes – Tears of the Flowers’ with ‘Echoehowling’ creates multi-layered meaning, increasing stability.”
“Like ‘Gemstone’ or ‘Fairy.'”
“How meticulous!”
“It’s important.”
“Very well! Next is the tale of the ‘Hellhound Sirius Flame’!”
Pulling out Erutière’s photo from the documents, he waved it in front of Norman.
“The Hellcatee Street serial killer incident. The victims appeared to have nothing in common, except being gruesomely murdered. Now! Tell me how you, who commanded the Hellhound, viewed this case!”
“Well then…”
The questioned Norman gazed up at the ceiling absently.
If he had to summarize it in one word:
“—-A tale of justice, perhaps.”
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