“15 days, 11 hours, 02 minutes until the big explosion.”
It was carved into the back of my left hand, parallel to my fingers.
It looked like it was written with a black marker pen, but rubbing it with my fingertips didn't smudge it at all.
Still groggy from waking up, I stared at the words on my hand as if they were someone else's problem, but then the “02” minutes changed to “01” minutes.
I felt my face go pale all at once. I tried rubbing it again with all my strength, but nothing faded away.
Clinging to the faint hope that I was just still half-asleep, I pulled the futon up over my head and curled up, trying to hide myself completely.
Even as I tried to go back to sleep, squeezing my eyes shut tight, my consciousness only grew sharper. I could only acknowledge the merciless reality that had descended upon me.
“Why me?”
The count ticked from “01” to “00” minutes, and inescapable agony began to gently tighten its grip around my entire body.
Desperate for any solution, I grabbed my smartphone from the nightstand and searched for “Madness Phenomenon countermeasures.” But all the articles I found only covered tragic cases within Japan caused by the Madness Phenomenon. The convenient information I sought wasn't floating in the vast ocean of the internet.
“While the Madness phenomenon has caused tens of thousands of victims domestically to date, statistically speaking, the actual likelihood of being affected is extremely low—it's important not to worry too much!” The bolded text, emphasizing just that part, catches the eye.
He tossed his utterly useless smartphone onto the mat, then cautiously looked at his left hand, as if peeling off a bandage from raw skin to check if it was healing.
“15 days, 10 hours, 42 minutes until the big explosion.”
The countdown continued relentlessly.
With my head completely cooled down, I tried to sort out my current situation. The more I did, the more I realized how hopeless my predicament was, and it felt like I couldn't breathe.
That in fifteen days, I would explode and die. And above all, that my life would end in a mere two weeks—not five years or ten years, but in an impossibly short time.
Faced with this cruel reality, I couldn't muster the composure to calmly consider how to face the rest of my life.
I alternated between utter stupor and near-despair, unable to even think about brushing my teeth, shaving, or washing my face.
***
“I might have mentioned this before, but the number of Madness phenomena has increased significantly lately. I haven't done any formal research, so this is purely based on my gut feeling.”
“So you're saying it's not unusual at all that I was affected by it. Your consolation sounds like typical bureaucratic thinking.”
“This has nothing to do with bureaucrats.”
The sound of the receding waves filled the gap where conversation had ceased.
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“14 days, 10 hours, 22 minutes until the big explosion.”
The countdown on the back of my left hand continued uninterrupted.
“Hey, is there any chance this won't blow up?”
Yumi remained expressionless as she said dismissively,
“Well, I can't say for sure it'll explode, but if it says it'll explode, then it's more likely to happen, right?”
She seemed far more content gazing blankly at the sea than talking with me.
It rankled me that she didn't seem particularly bothered, even though she resented that catfish and knew someone close to her would die in fourteen days because of it.
***
There was no sign of Momona.
I remember her never once being absent without permission, and she's the type who wouldn't even consider doing such a thing.
Even if it were a sick day, she'd contact me first. Probably because she respects me the most in this workplace.
“Ikeguchi-san, excuse me.”
My colleague Hamada called out to me in a hushed voice.
“It's about Aida-san. She hasn't come in today, right? And when I called her personal cell, she didn't answer.”
I sensed from the atmosphere that he was about to tell me something unpleasant.
“Did something happen? To Momona?”
“Yes. Earlier, the police received a report that a massive amount of super balls were spilling out from Aida-san's apartment. Apparently, there are so many that they're spilling out the front door and balcony, so they've set up a cordon.”
“A huge amount? Like how many?”
“According to police, enough to cover the entire building. So they might need to re-establish the cordon. Plus, they said the number keeps increasing.”
“What about Momona?”
“No word yet. She hasn't been found.”
Whether from intense rage or the terror of a coworker being caught up in this, I couldn't stop trembling.
“Um, surely not this too...”
As if Hamada felt that tremor too, the muscles in his cheeks twitched slightly, his gaze unfocused. Sweat glistened on his closely cropped hair on both sides of his head.
“Well, I suppose so.”
There was no time left for hesitation.
It couldn't be right for human dignity to be trampled so easily.
At that moment, he resolved whether or not to carry out the plan to kill the catfish.
***
Mita, the Director of Operational Policy at the Defense Policy Bureau, was known for his characteristic wide-eyed stare when surprised, his eyes covered by orbital fat.
“Therefore, I'd like you to negotiate with them to recover as many of the super balls that appeared at the Asami Mansion the day before yesterday as possible and analyze their composition.”
A glistening bead of sweat trickled down the thick layer of fat that made the line between his neck and jaw almost indistinguishable.
“Hmm, that should be possible without the bereaved family's consent, but are you sure it's okay?”
“Yes, it's fine.”
Hmm, the man groaned in frustration, leaning back against the chair as if gazing at the ceiling.
"So you're saying that catfish—the root cause of the Madness phenomenon—might be immune to physical attacks like other nations' symbols, but analyzing its surface tissue could reveal a way to defeat it? Honestly, I'm skeptical about the plan you're pushing forward—or rather, I'm hesitant because it seems fundamentally useless. But I never imagined you'd ask me to analyze ‘Ms. Momona’ who's been affected by the Madness phenomenon."
“And what's more—” Yumi cut him off just as he started to speak.
“Yes. Of course, we'll use what we've analyzed to plan our next move. As I mentioned earlier, Yuji Haba, the ordinary civilian I'm dating, has been affected by the Madness phenomenon and has become a living time bomb. We'll drop him from a tactical transport aircraft onto catfish just before he explodes, dealing damage.”
“Well, at this point, there's no other viable means of attack. It's inevitable there are more uncertainties than certainties.”
Unclasping his fingers as if to signify understanding, he lifted his heavy frame from the chair and asked suspiciously,
“And this Haba guy—hasn't he objected to your plan?”
Without breaking her cool expression, Yumi replied,
“Yes. He's fully on board and eager to cooperate.”
The time remaining until the explosion at Haba was approaching the tenth day.
It was time to act fast.
