38

[ Always say, “Good morning to you.” ]

[ Always say, “Thank you for this meal.” ]

[ Always say, “I am finished eating.” ]

[ Always say, “I am leaving now.” ]

[ Always say, “I am home.” ]

[ Always say, “Welcome home.” ]

[ Always say, “It is nice to meet you.” ]

[ Always say, “Thank you very much.” ]

[ Always say, “Please excuse my intrusion.” ]

[ Always say, “Hello.” ]

[ Always say, “Farewell.” ]

…There were 11 lines written out on the first page of the notebook left on the desk. I turned to the next page to find even more set phrases for various scenarios, listed horizontally. Page after page after page I turned, and all I found were more sets of [ Always say “…” ]. I started to believe that every single polite Japanese saying was listed within the notebook.

It took about ten pages to finally escape the polite phrases, but the next section of the notebook was devoted to listing various “rules” for everyday life. To give some random examples, there was stuff like:

[ Never watch more than one hour of television a day. ]

[ Always keep your room clean. ]

[ Never run in the hallway. ]

[ Always go to school on time. ]

[ Never accept money or candy from others. ]

[ Always wake up at the same time, even on days off. ]

[ Never lose your keys. ]

[ Always spend the same time studying that you do playing. ]

[ Always do your homework. ]

[ Always take a daily bath. ]

[ Always listen carefully when someone else is talking. ]

[ Always put books back when you are finished reading them. ]

[ Never leave your video games running. ]

[ Always take good care of your pets. ]

[ Always forgive someone when they apologize. ]

…It wasn’t that I disagreed with any of the rules, because they all seemed pretty normal. But seeing them all lined up so clinically in a notebook was very unpleasant… even disgusting.

I had reached for the notebook because it was labeled “free use”, like the one she had written in for groceries the other day… It was the only notebook unshelved, just sitting on the desk, so I hadn’t thought much of it… But it was a completely different kind of notebook. The great many things listed inside were not written in U‘s handwriting, but rather in the handwriting of an adult, and probably a man.

But U hadn’t left the notebook on the desk because she forgot to put it away. Looking closer, it was clear that whenever she had the free time, she would read it to make sure of what she needed to do. The edges were worn, proving how often the notebook was read, so that seemed to be the obvious conclusion. It was a very distinctive notebook. Rather than being for free use, it was more like a “restrictive use” notebook.

After getting about halfway through, my nausea spiked and I vomited in my mouth a little. I had to stop reading. The idea that the notebook was supposed to serve as some kind of education material from U‘s father made me sick to my stomach. But despite my blatant disgust, it was quite clear to me what the “restrictive use” notebook was for.

It was like a kind of manual… I can’t even believe I’m writing that. It was a manual for U. Her strict adherence to manners and polite sayings made that clear, but take for example the rule, [ Always keep your room clean. ] The bizarrely spotless appearance of U‘s room was a testament to her following the rule, but she had clearly decided that the closet space and living room did not count for the rule, since they were not “her room.” She cleaned in order to do as she was told, not because of habit or desire.

That made me realize that the times where I heard the TV playing were always at specific intervals… Then there was the rule, [ Always take good care of your pets. ] No doubt her father had added that rule following the death of her cat. She went to school despite having me locked in her closet because of the rule, [ Always go to school on time. ]

And then there was, [ Never leave your video games running. ] I immediately recognized that rule as the one that controlled her actions the first day I saw her. Now, her “restrictive use” notebook also contained the rule, [ Always treasure your friends. ] But that rule was further down the list than, [ Never leave your video games running. ]

That created a priority for her.

It probably hadn’t been the original intention of the writer, but U’s strict adherence to every single one of the seemingly infinite “rules” written in the notebook was ordered from top to bottom…

That day, U probably wanted to drop her game and run straight over to her friend who had been run over. When I remembered her cries and screams, that almost seemed likely. But no matter what, she couldn’t break her priorities.

But putting it another way, the accident that day had almost been caused by the lack of a rule telling her, [ Never play video games while walking. ] Not to mention the missing, [ Always obey traffic lights. ]

At first glance, the notebook seemed to cover every rule possible, but it was put together shoddily and irresponsibly. But that same irresponsibility had bound U from head to toe, constricting all her actions.

It was an absolutely ridiculous way to try and “raise” a child.

If I was the kind of person to try and find sympathy for every single person, even the worst of villains, then I might have been able to see some form of parental love within her “restrictive use” notebook. Maybe I could see the desire for a daughter to grow up into a proper young lady. But I wasn’t about to start giving the benefit of the doubt. I’m just a despicable coward, after all, and I felt nothing but the vilest disgust at that book.

That even bled into me feeling an utterly irrational loathing towards U, the irrefutable victim of the whole charade… After so long, all the confusing details about her words and actions should have finally been clear to me, no longer to be mistaken and constantly corrected. I could have finally understood her. But instead, shivers so intense ran through my spine that I couldn’t even stand up straight.

It was absolutely terrifying to think that for the past 13 days, even in the absence of her parents, U had been following her manual to the letter. There are joking words and jabs for people that follow manuals religiously, but U was so far gone that I didn’t think she could ever return.

But I already knew why she was so far gone. The notebook covered that much.

[ Always be a good girl, even when Mommy and Daddy aren’t watching. ]

A “good girl”, of course, being someone that followed the “restrictive use” notebook to the letter… because otherwise, she would be punished. That was in there, too.

[ Always accept your punishment when you do something wrong. ]

[ Always obey your parents. ]

[ Always respect your parents. ]

I wanted to believe that I had misread those lines, but I couldn’t bring myself to open the notebook again and make sure…

Then, a thought occurred. I didn’t want to check the notebook again… but I had to. It would resolve all the mysteries.

Really? Mysteries? There were never any mysteries. Anyone would have been able to see what was going on in that house, I was just the stupid idiot who was too idiotic to see what was right in front of him.

But after skimming the “restrictive use” notebook for a few minutes, trying not to focus on anything too hard, I found what I was looking for.

[ Never let anyone know who you really are. ]

Who you really are?

The notebook fell out of my hands as I read a passage that described someone’s own daughter like she was some kind of alien. The notebook on the floor made the room look a little messier, but it was more fitting like that, anyway.