(Ab)Normal Days - Shin Hayashi (closure.)
Shin remained silent for a long time.
Perhaps he was satisfied with himself, but perhaps not. The expression on his face couldn’t be read further than a solid brick of steel. One person talked, another, another, another, Jaz shoved him, Jaz died (karmic retribution?) and then more people talked.
But Shin figured it could be his turn to talk again.
“”Not many of you should presume to be teachers, my brothers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly.“ James 3:1.”
He looked unimpressed, as he had throughout the whole trial.
“Professin’ yer moral superiority; ‘sall yer doin’. You play with fire, you get burnt.”
“You have no idea who I am. Got plenty a’ friends back home, trust ‘em with m'life. Y'ain’t gonna get nowhere thinkin’ yerself above a trusting relationship. You’re gonna die here one day thinkin’ like that. That what you want? Yer the only one gonna carry Jaz’s memory outta here, and you gonna let her down like that? Fine. Ain’t no skin off my ass. You c'n trust, or you c’d isolate yerself. Go it alone. Get picked off. Simple pack animal instincts. Pick yer poison.”
A mere glance at Yori, a hint of surprise behind the crow’s feet only beginning to settle in the corners of Shin’s eyes.
“Quite frankly, I don’t give a damn, nor have I ever given a damn, nor will I ever give a damn what you do. I'm tellin’ you that forgiving someone who was gonna murder you is fuckin’ stupid. And now yer tryin’ t'justify yer stupidity by misinterpreting what I’m sayin’. I don’t give a damn if you don’t wanna hoot 'n’ holler. Hell, I don’t wanna do that, neither. All I’m sayin’ is, seems an awful lot like you don’t give a damn about yer life. Y'keep goin’ on like this, yer gonna be easy pickin’s for someone. I'm doing you a favor. You can accept my advice, or y'can go on down that trail t'death. Yer only pickin’ up yer pace. Ain’t long before the lion spots the wounded antelope.”
“Can it. Y'used “whom” incorrectly, and frankly, all this hocus pocus nonsense is gettin’ t'be more tirin’ than… Quaint, as it might have been as a stretch. Y'ain’t above nobody just b'cause you claim t'see ghosts. A’course y'require rest. Ain’t y’ been restin’ the whole damn time anyways? Have a good fuckin’ sleep, see y’ next trial.“
"Sure, y'can call 'em good people. Maybe they’re good. But they’re weak. It’s th'weakness in us that’s fuckin’ us over. We can’t pull our shit together for one goddamn week, not one a’ these motives, b'cause someone decides that being exposed, in a private setting, for blackmail is worth takin’ someone’s life. I ain’t arguin’ that maybe some of the people here’re good - obviously, this whole secrets nonsense proved otherwise - I’m arguin’ y'all're weak. Wounded antelopes. Walking meat. The hungriest, most desperate lion’s gonna bite eventually. Th'key is t'fill yer own damn self. Clearly a tactic employed by the minority, if things keep goin’ th'way they’re goin’.”
He didn’t say a word to Jaz. All he showed to her in her final moments, if she looked, were the remnants of a smirk in those crow’s feet.
“Yes, I can. Why? Half b'cause I know some other idiot’s gonna murder b'efore I gotta crack, and b'cause I realize that we don’t know shit about the outside no more. What’s happened? Hell, I don’t know. Maybe everything’s gone t'shit. Maybe I don’t have no damn family anymore, wouldn’t be much of a change. Y'gotta see it from a more bleak perspective. If we gotta live down here forever, fuck it, 'sbetter than not livin’.”
“And another damn thing, Ms. High and Mighty, Ms. Moral High Horse, Ms. I Make The Judgments 'round Here. Y'callin’ everyone a murderer for sentencin’ a killer t'death? Where’s y'fuckin' sense? Y'lost yer damn mind? Socially accepted vengeance… If I ain’t never heard no pseudo-psychological horsehockey. We ain't forced t'murder in the first place, kid. We’re given a push. See what we do. We're forced to execute someone. We're forced to find the killer and punish them for their crimes, their weakness. Deep down I know I’m doin’ the right thing. Deep down I know sentencin’ Jaz t'her death was the right thing. B'cause even if we voted for Date, we’d be settin’ a killer free. The criers are the weak. Y'heard it here first, folks. Weak. This fuckin’ hostage situation preys on weakness and it’s deliverin’.”
A slow shake of the head. Folding of arms.
“People can be victims and culprits in the same space. They ain’t identities existin’ in a vacuum. We’re all victims, sure, but she sure as shit ain’t innocent. She killed somebody, Suzume. Y'gonna get that through y'head? Murdered. I ain’t murder nobody. You ain’t murder nobody. She did. She got exactly what was goddamn comin’ t'her. You can try to play the sympathetic card, you can try to claim your highground. Plant yer flag and let it wave. May it be high enough the blood won’t reach.”
He didn’t back down, nor flinch.
“…And now yer claimin’ superiority through martyrdom. Share yer secrets, get yer dose of sympathy. It’s a fuckin' drug to you people, ain’t it? It’s a fuckin’ drug, and that’s why y'all’re pushin’ back against the truth. Jaz, Date, these people're murderers. We ain’t killin’ 'em. We’re workin’ within the only system we got in our best damn attempt t'make sure ain’t nothin’ happens again. But no, every time, it’s a moral dilemma, as if we even have the damn privilege of this dilemma.”
He shook his head, turning back toward the elevator.
“Rest in peace t'those who were killed. Rest in hell t'those who were the killers. Y'all can criticize and say it’s "black-and-white” all y'want.“
He surveyed his class, giving a disapproving shake of his head.
"You’ll find the lions to yer antelopes in due time.”
The door shut. He wanted to take the elevator alone.
