You wake up under a sky that had been torn into two parts.

The right part of the sky had little light. Darkness. Small flickers of light were lit within the darkness that had an unknown depth. The number of lights could not be counted. The large numbers of lights that could be considered countless were scattered throughout the space.

The left part of the sky was bright. The blue sky spread out endlessly.

The horizon continued. It was limitless, going on and on for long distances.

You walk along the horizon that cannot be deemed as either morning or night. Walking. Wandering, roaming.

Suddenly you, who had been walking, became conscious that your body was walking. That’s right. If you did not have a body, you should not be able to walk. You have a body. You try to confirm that. But how?

Take a look. There was something that resembled black particles  congealing together. You think. Is this your body? This kind of thing?

You ponder as you are wandering. You walk. Why are you walking though? Do you know where you are going? Do you have a destination?

Without knowing anything, you head for the morning. Towards morning. Towards the morning as though you are drawn towards. Towards the side of morning.

But no matter how you moved forward, you were nowhere closer to the side of morning. As always, the night was on your right and the morning, on your left. You will not reach morning. You are in the boundary of morning and night.

At last, you become exhausted. It’s impossible to go forward, there’s no purpose to it.

You sit down. The morning that is above your head did not move. The night did not move either. You too, did not move an inch.

“Bonsoir—“

After a long, exceedingly long time of not hearing anything, someone speaks to you.

“Or should I say Bonjour, I wonder? Dear traveller of the Horizons.”

You raise your head. A man was looking down at you. A transparent round object was fitted over the man’s left orbital and he grew a moustache and wore a hat. He was holding a cane in his hand.

There was one man, however he was not alone. Two young girls followed him.

Who are you, you ask the man. At that moment, you knew that the sound is your  own voice. This is your voice. You can speak.

“Me?”

The man answers as he strokes his moustache to a point.

“I am, M.”

“M.”

“A name is no more than a convenience. Well, if M is not to your liking, calling me Marcel,  Martin, Matthias or Michael is fine. I don’t particularly mind the name Michelle either. Otherwise, a simple Monsiuer would do. On top of that, it’s Christoph. You may address me however you wish.”

One of the girls had her back towards the night while the other, towards the morning. The girl of the night had purple irises and was wearing clothes of the same colour. The girl of the morning had light blue irises and as expected, she was wrapped in clothes of a light blue colour. The two of them were identical. With exception of their eyes and the colour of their clothes, whether  it is their blonde hair, their features, their bodies — they were like two peas in a pod.

“Ah yes, these girls are—“

M turned his head and called the girls’ names one after the other. Convenient names.

“The lady of violets (Violette) and this is the lady of hydrangeas (Hortense).”

Once Violette’s name was called, the girl of the night grasped the hem of her skirt and bent her knees.

The girl of the morning, Hortense also responded with the same action but at the same time, her expression softened up slightly. She seemed to be smiling.

“Is it the two of you?”

You did not think. Before you pondered about your words, you spoke.

“The ones that I have been seeking —the ones that I have always been searching for, is it the two of you?”

“No.” Violette replied, her lips moving. Hortense said “You are mistaken” as she narrowed her eyes slightly.

You’re trying to scream. There was no strength to it and no voice came out. You said the ones that you have been seeking. You asked the girls if they were the ones that you have always been searching for. Why did you say such a thing? You understand now. You thought you found them. You have finally sought them out. However, the girls denied it. You did not find anything.

You tear at your chest. You wanted to take out the object that was within you. Is there something supposedly buried in there? It is not known but that matters not. In any case, you grab that area.  There should be something there but no matter how you searched and searched, the black particles merely relax and move apart. No matter what you did, you could not possibly touch that.

As M spins his cane, he asks you.

“What on earth are you seeking for exactly?”

“I want to know about myself.”

“You want me to tell you? Though it’s about you?”

“It’s about me.”

“Is that so? You. They are all questions about you. It doesn’t matter who I am. Isn’t that right?”

——they are all questions about me, you mutter to yourself.  You ask yourself. About me. Me. — me? What am I?

Who am I?

You face yourself. At the boundary between morning and night, you finally meet “me”, or you yourself. “I” am inside you. If anything, “I” am you. Therefore, “I” am “me”.

Who am I? What person am I?

Violette and Hortense look at me. As usual, Violette was expressionless. Hortense raised her brows slightly. M’s lips twisted as thought he was mocking me, yet it felt like there was pity there too. Who am I?

It is neither morning nor night here. To put it another way, this is nowhere.

I am here. This place is nowhere in particular.

“—who, am I? I am me? Where am I?”

First, Violette who took a step forward then Hortense quickly followed suit.

The two girls came close to me. At the same time. The two of them held my hands.

Violette took my right hand and Hortense, my left.

My two hands clearly felt the cold and smooth texture of their fingers. After the contact with Violette and Hortense, my body transforms. Until now, I was nothing more than a thing made up of black particles accumulating together. Right now it is different. I’m trying to take up a form. I was trying to seek out myself. By interacting with the two girls, I knew who I was. This is who I am.

My hands held onto the girls’ hands.

I have arms. A torso. Legs.

I am wearing a coat that seemed to be almost black. Underneath that, I wear a shirt and a vest. I am wearing trousers. Boots covered my legs. A decorative ribbon adorns my collar. And right in the middle of that ribbon is a sparkling crimson gemstone.

Because I am unable to see my own face, I cannot discern what I look like. Whatever it is, I probably have my own face. It was probably different from M’s face and Violette’s and Hortense’s faces.

M pinches his moustache and stares at me.

“Is that how you are?”

“This is, me.”

“So?”

M spun his cane again.

“What do you seek?”

“I, what….What, I, seek—”

While continuing to ask, my hands did not let go of Violette and Hortense. Both their hands were still terribly cold. My hands were probably also cold. I had no warmth. Perhaps Violette and Hortense were like that as well. The three of us lacked warmth.

Is that what I seek?

Warmth.

Something that warms me.

Maybe that’s it. I don’t know if it’s not.

What do I want? Why do I walk? In the first place, why did I wake up?

On this Horizon that was neither morning nor night.

“Ah, dear traveller of the horizons….”

M’s voice rings out, quavering.

In the gap between [Morning and Night]

                        A [Flame] flickers

                                              To grab the [gem],

                                                                [arms] reach out

                                                                             When the [Windmill] turns,

                                                                                                      [Stardust] glitters

                                                                         The [angel] smiles

The [beautiful] fantasy and

              The intoxication of [wine]

                                 Are evaded by even the [Savant]

                                                    The true intention of the [message]

                                                                                                                Is known by the [Horizon]

With death in the right hand

                                                                                                                And life in the left

                                           The scales of winter

                                 Remain in balance

Before I knew it, I scream. One by one, the words spun by M were throwing me into a loop. Did M intend to confuse me? However, even so, I cling to each and every one of them. Is M trying to tell me something? Such as a secret. Even if it was not the secret itself, it had to be some kind of clue, right?

I want to know. I have to know. I cannot tell what it is but I want to find it one way or another. I cannot give up. Isn’t that right? I mean if I could give up, I would. I’m sure there is a tremendous, daunting amount of time for me to find myself in this horizon. I have finally reached here. I cannot turn back. There was nothing left so I don’t want to go back.

“—I am, me.”

“Oui.”

“Monsieur.”

 Violette and Hortense replied, as though whispering.

I muffled my ragged breathing and look around. M is gone. He is nowhere. He vanished. He had disappeared. There’s no trace of M. Absolutely nothing. M was not here since the start. It was possible to believe that. However, I am not alone.

Violette and Hortense were connected to me through their hands. As though that was how it had been since the beginning of time.

Of course, that is an illusion. I was alone. Then M showed up. M brought Violette and Hortense with him.

“What am I searching for?”

“The stir of repeating life.”

Hortense said and she points towards morning.

“The windmill of the sun.”

“The peace of repeating death.”

Without a pause in the words, Violette points towards night.

“The cradle of the moon.”

“Morning and, night—could what I’m seeking for be found over there?”

“In this place.” Hortense says, her words carrying sadness.                      

“There is nothing.” Violette quietly asserts.

“It is neither morning.” “Nor is it night.” “There is nothing.” “In this place.”

“The morning of birth.” “The night of death.” “Here is.” “Neither of those places.”

“Monsieur.” “This is not the place.” ”The things that you seek.” “Not one of them is here.”

“It is not the beginning.” “Not is it the end.”

“—Am I—”

If I were to believe Hortense and Viokette’s words, in this place which is neither morning or night, neither the beginning or end, can I say that I’m alive?

“Already dead? Is this….the world for those who have passed……?”

“Non.” “Monsieur.”

“……It’s not? Then I’m—”

I’m not alive. I’m not even dead. If so, then I’m what?

Does this mean I don’t exist? Does this mean I have not even been born?

“Don’t lie to me. The two of you are lying to me.”

“Non.” “Monsieur.”

“Let go.”

I swung their hands away roughly. For an instant, I was fearful. Would my form break down because of this? Somehow I looked forward to it. It’ll be fine if that happened. I don’t exist anyway. Is a form necessary? It’s fine if everything was destroyed. But whether it was good luck or bad luck, that did not come to pass.

I walked again. Violette and Hortense followed quietly.

During this period, I carried a faint hope. If I continued to walk, I should be able to get out of this gap between morning and night sooner or later, right? At the end of this morning and night, there should be some other place I can reach, right?

I got frustrated and tried to drive away Violette and Hortense multiple times. No matter what I said to them, no matter how I ignored them, the girls did not leave me alone. If those two left, without a doubt, it would be a painful blow to me. I knew that. I would be at a loss if they did not come along. I don’t want to be alone anymore.

“I don’t want to be here.”

They did not reply. I spun around, flustered. The two of them were there. I was relieved.

“—I don’t want to be here any longer. But I can’t go anywhere. I can’t leave this place, this gap between morning and night. At the very least, if I’m going to be stuck like this….”

The repeated question weighed down on my legs and body. What is it that I’m searching for?

The stir of repeating life, the windmill of the sun, The peace of repeating death, the cradle of the moon—Now that I think about it, these were the answers from Violette and Hortense. I am not alive. I’m not dead either. I have not even been born. That’s why I can’t leave this place. I can only be here. I stopped walking.

“You two came later.”

There was no response. This time, they probably disappeared. I turned around. They were there.

“You’re both are different from me, so you can leave this place, right?”

“Oui.”

“Monsieur.”

Violette and Hortense replied in a whisper. I did not want to smile. I finally understand. They appeared because I’m here. I finally understand the meaning behind that. It was for the sake of this. However, I did not smile. I cannot smile.

I shall give them my request. I definitely wanted them to accept it. However if I did that, I was going to be alone again.

“Can you go out there in my steed to search for what I’m looking for?”

Rather than showing a smile, it seemed more likely that I was going to cry. . Even so, I intended to speak to them while trying my best to keep a calm front.

Hortense had somewhat of a grimace on her face. Why did she look sad? On the contrary, Violette looked at me with a smile.

“What is it.” “That we should seek? Monsieur.” “What do you want” “to look for?”

I’m not alive so I can’t die, and it’s such a strange story that there’s something that I’m searching for despite not being born. It could probably even be called comical. If this had not been a problem that occurred on himself, he would surely also make a mockery of the situation. And then after having a good laugh, he would probably not pay attention to it any longer.

However, this was an issue that belonged to him. What do I seek? What am I searching for? He wanted to know it so desperately. Because I  did not know, I am here. I might probably be trapped here. What the heck is it?

For example, a necessity? For example, a circumstance? For example, a reason?

I believe it could be all of those but at the same time, it’s none of them. Probably because everything was in fragments. Whether it is a reason, circumstance or a necessity, it wasn’t sufficient. It had to encompass all of them and must be something beyond those.

I want to open the door and leave. And to open the door, a key was necessary.

“Roman.”

(T/N: story)

The key.

That’s the key to the door.

“I want you two to find it. The story that led to my birth. If it’s out there somewhere.”

Violet eyes and light blue eyes stared at me. I am probably going to lose these two girls soon. I have no guarantee that they would come back after leaving me. I will surely be in a difficult position if I’m alone again. Most likely I will not know anything about myself. I’m scared. I’m so terrified that it was hard to bear.

That’s why I will smile. With only a smile, I will see them off.

“Alright. Off you go.”
(T/N: I have listened to Hiver’s さあ、行っておいで multiple times then I suddenly realise I don’t know how to make it sound as elegant in English)

“Oui.” “Monsieur.”

Violette and Hortense turned their backs towards me.

Then they went far away.

Ahh, they left.

And like this, I’m left behind in the gap between morning and night.