There's a horn growing from my forehead. What kind of illness is this?
He recalled the diseases described in horror comics—like those in the beginning of "Black Jack" — rather than any conditions found in more realistic media. What could this illness be? Maybe it was some kind of hereditary disease that hadn't manifested in his grandfather or father, but had awakened due to this afternoon's trauma?
No, calm down and think about this scientifically. That's right! I've heard of advanced frontal lobe development in people who are patient. Maybe I've been too patient, so my frontal lobe has grown deformed. Argh! That's not scientific at all!
Naota was overcome with anxiety.
Then, he received another shock: With each pulse, the horn grew a little bigger.
Ba-dum… ba-dum… ba-dum.
This was no a joke!
Naota panicked and pushed down on the growth. Unexpectedly, the horn easily retracted into his skull. At the same time, the throbbing pain eased, as well.
In the silent room, the only sound was the ticking of the clock.
After he'd pushed the horn back in completely, everything seemed to have been merely a bad dream. Had he been asleep, after all?
Yes, he must have been dreaming. Logically speaking, that was the best explanation.
Please, God!
Fearfully, he removed his hand from his head.
Apparently, God was not in a good mood that night. Left alone, the horn kept growing. Ba-dum… ba-dum… ba-dum…
It looks like I'll have to keep pushing it in forever. Naota trembled as he wondered: What the hell am I going to do? There's no one I can talk to about this. I don't want anyone to know.
And what am I going to do about school tomorrow? Naota Nandaba thought of these details, even in the midst of such an unusual situation. Well, I'll have to figure out some kind of solution at least for the time being.
The next day, Naota stuck a bandage over his forehead.
One of his female classmates, Eri Ninamori, called out to him as he neared the school gates. "Morning, Naota!"
"Hey," he answered indifferently, quickly heading toward the entrance.
He'd used an extra-strength bandage on his forehead to make sure his horn didn't burst out. He'd made doubly sure of this by adding a few additional drops of superglue. (Imagine the horrors he'd face when the time came to peel it off.)
Anyone who thinks that maybe he'd gone a bit too far obviously hasn't known the distress caused by having a horn sprout from one's head. However, Naota Nandaba did have a strange horn growing from his head.
Naota, the devil.
He couldn't let anyone know the terrible truth. It certainly wouldn't fit his persona. However, his bandage was pretty noticeable, as it was stuck right in the middle of his forehead.
He knew what would happen: Making such an effort to hide something would, of course, paradoxically generate interest and attract prying eyes. If only they would appear less interested… a bandage itself was commonplace enough. Perhaps people would think he'd grazed himself and then covered the wound with a bandage—nothing extraordinary about that.
Naturally, that wasn't the way things would go.
"What happened to you?" Ninamori asked.
"Huh?"
"The bandage."
"Oh, that…" began Naota. "Um, yesterday, my grandpa and a door-to-door solicitor had a massive fight. I tried to stop it, and I ended up with this!"
Naota related the story he'd prepared in advance. He'd been worried that if he claimed to have bumped into a lamppost or something like that, it would sound suspicious, thus further heightening people's curiosity. Although it didn't really matter if people discovered that some girl had hit him with her Vespa, it was an outlandish tale. He'd decided describing a realistic-sounding story was better than describing the unbelievable actual reality.
In this world, there always will be meddlers who, seeing through the camouflage, feel they must stick in their noses. And thus, here was Ninamori, a perfect example of this type of person. Because her father served as Mabase's mayor, she remained aware of her "princess" persona. She was class president, the sort of person who unfailingly would help out her friends with any problems whatsoever, and who delighted in her teachers' approval. (Indeed, she was also the first to report a schoolmate for skipping classroom cleaning duty.)
Most troublesome of all, she seemed to treat Naota with a strange sense of camaraderie because of his excellent grades. She often sought to confer with him, no matter how run-of-the-mill a matter might be.
"That looks awfully strange. It doesn't suit you," opined Ninamori, looking at Naota's bandage. "You sure you're not hiding something?"
She had unusually good intuition.
I really hate this girl! Naota thought to himself.
It was still early, but Gaku was already in the classroom. He and Naota had been in the same class since the third grade. He was a hot-blooded guy with a clean-shaven head and horn-rim glasses. Stretched out, he was reading an "Adults' Illustrated Weekly." As expected, upon seeing the bandage, Gaku asked if Naota had injured himself; then, he let the subject drop.
"Anyway, did you hear, Naota? That light-speed Vespa showed up again."
"Light-speed Vespa?" Naota repeated.
"You hadn't heard? Recently, over on the national freeway, people have been seeing a Vespa-riding girl carrying a guitar pretty frequently."
"What's a 'light-speed Vespa'?" asked Ninamori.
"A Vespa is, well, a Vespa. It's a scooter. That goes fast."
"A light-speed Vespa…" Naota said.
Without a doubt, Naota was recalling his encounter with the girl from the previous day, who had given him a curry-flavored kiss. It had to be her. If that outrageous girl had been turning up all over town, of course she would have become the subject of conversation.
"According to the rumors, she always appears in front of people who are doing things they shouldn't," continued Gaku. "She stole a spicy curry roll from Kumiko in class and—"
"A curry roll? What was it she shouldn't have been doing?"
Gaku grinned suggestively before whispering, "Kumiko was sharing a diary with Koji from Class Three."
"Is that supposed to be pervy?"
"Anyway, the story goes that if the light-speed Vespa touches a person who's being a pervert, then the 'devil's mark' appears on that person's body somewhere. Kumiko said she hasn't experienced anything like that, but it's still weird. People with the mark eventually will be destroyed by the light-speed Vespa girl."
The devil's mark?
This was terrifying information. Generally, Naota wasn't one to listen to such crude urban myths; but this time, the circumstances were entirely different.
The devil's mark. Could it be the horn that had appeared on his head…?
Suddenly, Ninamori pointed at Naota's neck and asked, "Hey, what's that?"
"The devil's mark?" Gaku said, sneaking a look.
"Of course not. That's ridiculous."
They were looking at the love bite Mamimi had given him yesterday. Normally, he would have tried to hide it—but today, with a horn growing out of his head, it had managed to have slipped his mind.
"Have you been doing something you shouldn't have?"
"What do you mean? Of course not."
People being perverted? Don't be absurd. Mamimi and I do that kind of thing all the time, Naota thought to himself. It isn't the devil's mark…