High school teacher Soya Aoyama (26) receives a sudden message one night from his former student, Suzumi Mizubane (20). "Sensei, I'm chasing the 'Kuchisake-onna' urban legend—help me out?" Suzumi, a popular cosplay YouTuber, has started a project to verify "dark rumors" submitted by her viewers. Soya reluctantly agrees, but as they investigate, he realizes that what seemed like simple urban legends are connected to actual disappearances and conspiracies.
In the archives of Suzumi's streams, the
Urban Legend Truth Record - Kurogiri Renji — The Cleaner Who Devours Memories
The room was still a mess.
Stacks of documents scattered across the floor. A desk with its drawers yanked out and overturned. Books that had tumbled from the shelves and lay in heaps where they fell. Souya sat in the middle of it all, knees drawn up to his chest.
(I can't bring myself to do anything.)
A suspension. A summons from the board of education. And now, a break-in at his home.
In just a few days, he could feel his life crumbling apart with a sound. Souya stared blankly at the phone in his hand. The screen still displayed yesterday's news article.
"Private Gyousei High School Teacher Suspected of Illegally Obtaining Student Information — Board of Education Investigates"
The article didn't name him, but with the school name and the description "male teacher in his twenties," he was as good as identified.
(It's a false charge.)
Whispering it in his mind changed nothing. The evidence had been fabricated, and he hadn't even been given a chance to refute it.
Outside the window, the sky was heavy and overcast. It was the end of May, yet the room felt cold and clammy.
That was when it happened.
Ding-dong.
The intercom echoed through the quiet room.
Souya's body jerked.
(Who is it?)
No one should be visiting him at this hour, especially not while he was under suspension. Suzumi hadn't been reachable since yesterday. Misaki should be teaching classes at school.
Ding-dong.
The same sound, again.
Souya slowly stood up and headed for the entrance. Carefully, so as not to step on the documents underfoot.
On the monitor beside the door, the visitor's figure appeared.
A man in his mid-forties. He wore a dark gray suit with his tie knotted precisely. His hair was short and neat, his face clean-shaven. At first glance, he looked like a salesman from some company, or perhaps a government clerk.
But his eyes were different.
Even through the monitor, Souya could tell. Those eyes were not smiling.
"You are Aoyama Souya-sensei, I presume."
The man's voice came through the intercom. Low, calm. But there was a strange pressure in its resonance.
"My name is Kurogiri, from Nocturne Research Institute. Might I have five minutes of your time?"
Souya's heart went ice-cold.
Nocturne Research Institute. The public-facing name of that organization in Shinagawa. The things Misaki had told him raced through his mind in an instant.
(So they've come. Finally, to me.)
Souya drew a deep breath. His fingertips were trembling. But he couldn't run now.
(I need to hear what this man knows.)
Souya opened the door.
Kurogiri Renji stood there. Taller than he'd appeared on the monitor, with broad shoulders. Even through the suit, his physique was clearly well-trained. And on his face was a gentle smile.
"It's an honor to meet you."
Kurogiri bowed slowly. The gesture was far too polite, far too natural.
"What do you want?"
Souya spoke while hiding his trembling.
"Standing here talking isn't ideal. Would you mind speaking in my car for a bit?"
Kurogiri glanced toward the black sedan parked in front of the apartment building. The windows were covered with smoked film; the interior was invisible.
"And if I refuse?"
"I won't force you. But if you're thinking of your students, I believe hearing me out would be worth your while."
At those words, something cold ran down Souya's spine.
(My students. He just said my students...)
Kurogiri's smile remained gentle. His expression was soft, as if they were making small talk.
But his eyes were those of a hunter closing in on his prey.
Souya bit his lip.
(I can't escape. No — I must not escape.)
"...Fine. I'll hear you out."
Souya put on his shoes and followed Kurogiri to the car.
The air outside was even colder than inside the room.
Kurogiri opened the rear door. After a moment's hesitation, Souya got in. Kurogiri sat in the driver's seat and started the engine.
A faint air freshener scent drifted through the car. The interior was immaculately clean. Nothing was placed on the dashboard. As if the car itself were a tool meant solely for work.
Kurogiri pulled out smoothly.
"Where are we going?"
"Let's talk while I drive. It'll be easier on both of us."
Kurogiri looked at Souya through the rearview mirror.
"Aoyama-sensei, you visited the old Urayama Station the other day. There, you discovered strange symbols carved into the wall."
Souya said nothing.
"Those are a list of victims from an incident that occurred in 1987. Twenty-seven names, carved in encrypted form. Your analysis was almost entirely correct."
Souya's heart pounded hard.
(This man knows everything. Our movements, from the very beginning.)
"Why? Why would something like that—"
Souya forced the words out.
"'Why' — which part do you mean? Why the incident occurred? Why the names were carved? Or why we are trying to stop your investigation?"
"All of it."
Kurogiri gave a small laugh.
"I'll answer as much as I can. First, that incident was something we had no choice but to be involved in. And those symbols are under our management. Your investigation is an act that disrupts that management."
"So you're the ones who ransacked my home. Who fabricated the false charge."
Souya's voice trembled with anger.
"Yes. We needed you to withdraw. It was the first step in keeping things peaceful."
"Peaceful?"
"Yes. If you quietly stop your investigation, no further harm will come to you. However, if you continue—"
Kurogiri paused.
"I cannot say what will happen to all of your students."
His voice was cold as ice.
The blood drained from Souya's entire body.
"Is that a threat?"
"No, a warning. We know your students' names, addresses, and family structures. As their homeroom teacher, you understand what that means."
Souya's fingertips trembled on his knees.
(My students... because of me...)
"Your sense of justice is admirable. As a teacher, I understand wanting to protect your students. But that very sense of justice is putting them in danger. That much, I ask you not to forget."
The car passed through a quiet residential neighborhood in Setagaya and merged onto a main road.
Kurogiri continued calmly, hands on the wheel.
"One more thing. There's something I'd like to tell you about yourself."
"About me?"
"About your memories."
Souya caught his breath.
"Your memories from middle school. The memory of protecting someone at the old Urayama Station. You believe it's a precious memory. However—"
Kurogiri stared at Souya's eyes through the rearview mirror.
"Your memories are not your own."
The air inside the car froze.
"What... are you saying?"
"Exactly what I said. Your middle school memories have been rewritten by someone. The 'event' you remember never actually happened. Or if it did, it was not what you believe it to be."
"That's absurd."
Souya raised his voice.
"I do hope it's absurd. But you've already noticed, haven't you? That there are gaps in your memory. That your head hurts when you try to recall. And that the accounts of those around you contradict your own memories."
Souya couldn't argue.
(It's true... I can't remember. That child's face, from back then.)
"We have no intention of harming you. We simply want you to stop approaching that incident any further. Your memories, your students' safety — all of it will be protected if you withdraw."
Kurogiri pulled the car over to the shoulder.
"You may get out here."
Souya opened the door with trembling hands.
Outside, he found himself near an unfamiliar station.
"Aoyama-sensei."
Kurogiri called out from inside the car.
"Your sense of justice — I don't dislike it."
Kurogiri smiled quietly.
"That's precisely why I don't want you to hurt yourself any further."
The car door closed, and the black sedan drove away without a sound.
Souya stood frozen in place.
The sky was growing darker.
Rain began to fall, drop by drop.
Souya stood in the rain, staring at his own hands.
(My memories are not my own.)
The words repeated over and over in his head.
(Then what am I supposed to believe?)
The answer was nowhere.
---
The next morning.
Souya greeted the dawn having barely slept.
The rain had stopped, but the sky was covered in thick clouds.
His phone buzzed. A call from the school.
"This is Aoyama."
"Aoyama-sensei, this is Vice Principal Owada. Is now a good time?"
The vice principal's voice was stiff and heavy.
"Yes. What is it?"
"Actually... there's something I need to tell you about a student in your class. Kobayashi Yuka."
Kobayashi Yuka. A second-year, Class 3 student — a girl in Souya's homeroom. Bright, the mood-maker of the class.
"What happened to Yuka?"
"Her transfer procedures were processed as of yesterday."
Souya was speechless.
"A transfer...? So suddenly?"
"Yes. Her parents contacted us out of the blue. And, well... Yuka's mother had one request for the school."
"A request?"
"She said, 'Please never let Aoyama-sensei see my daughter.' And she asked that we not tell you where Yuka is transferring to."
Souya's mind went blank.
"Why... why would she—"
"I don't know either. But apparently Yuka's mother was quite forceful. She said, 'Keep that teacher away from my child.'"
The strength drained from Souya's hands.
"Aoyama-sensei, this is difficult to say, but it's a fact that your recent actions have spread unease among the parents. Including the board of education matter, the school has determined that it would be difficult for you to continue your homeroom duties."
"...A suspension, then."
"The formal notice will arrive at your home by the end of today. I'm sorry."
The call ended.
Souya sank to the floor, still clutching his phone.
(Yuka... transferred.)
(Yuka's parent said never let me see her.)
(It's my fault.)
Deep in his chest, something crumbled with a sound.
Souya called Yuka's house.
Again and again.
But it never connected.
---
Souya staggered to his feet and stood before the bookshelf.
(My graduation album.)
His middle school graduation album. The words Kurogiri had spoken last night wouldn't leave his head.
(My memories have been rewritten? That can't be.)
Souya pulled an album from the back of the shelf.
The cover was faded, the corners worn.
He turned the pages with trembling hands.
The class photo.
A picture of the entire class from his third year of middle school.
In the center was himself — overweight, with a gloomy expression.
And beside him—
Souya's hand stopped.
(Who... is this?)
Next to him stood a student he didn't recognize.
Thin, with long bangs covering half their face.
(Was someone like this in my class?)
Souya searched his memory desperately.
He tried to recall each of his middle school classmates, one by one.
But only this student's face wouldn't come to him.
No — when he tried to look at the face, his vision blurred for some reason.
(Is something... wrong with my eyes?)
Souya brought the album closer to his face.
The student's face was still blurred.
Like a photograph that refused to come into focus.
Souya opened the class roster page of the album.
His classmates' names were listed in order.
(What's this student's name...)
But at the position corresponding to the student in the class photo, no name was written.
It was blank.
No — to be precise, only that portion had the name erased.
(Erased? No — was it never there to begin with?)
Souya took out his phone and called a middle school classmate.
"Hey, it's Aoyama. Long time no talk."
"Oh, Aoyama! How've you been?"
"Good. Listen, I wanted to ask — do you remember the student who stood next to me? In the graduation album, the one on my left."
"Huh? Next to you? There wasn't anyone there."
Souya's heart stopped for a moment.
"No, come on — thin, long bangs..."
"Was there someone like that in our class? No, there wasn't. Your side was always empty, wasn't it?"
"Empty?"
"Yeah. You were pretty much alone all through middle school. Don't you remember?"
Souya was speechless.
"Hey, Aoyama? What's wrong? You okay?"
"A-ah. I'm fine.
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