The Locked Line

The summons only has one name on it.

Zhou Yu spread the paper from the registration desk on the bar counter, her fingertip pressing down on the line of text in the lower right corner.

Chisaki.

With just those two words, no one else even has the right to be a runner-up.

"Why only call her?" Sigelica snatched the paper and read it from beginning to end. "I'll go with her! I have Sunspeakers reserve card; I can stand guard outside. I promise I won't eavesdrop. Okay, I will eavesdrop, but I won't tell anyone."

"Visit privileges are only granted to the parties involved," Zhou Yu said. "We can't get in, but we can make the process very complicated."

He took out the schedule, turned to a blank page, and wrote line by line: Accompanying person registration, application for attendance, application for document retrieval, submission of written statement, lunch delivery.

"Rules are rigid," he said, closing the notebook. "But rules are flexible; you have to write according to their format, and they have to follow their procedures."

The registration office replied: the hearing was rejected, and the reasons were clearly stated; lunch delivery was permitted.

"Then let's have the food delivered," Zhou Yu said. "I'll be the one delivering it."

The registration office is located at the end of the old street, in a three-story stone building with light blue walls. To the right of the entrance is a corridor with four large characters painted on the wall: "According to Laws and Regulations".

Sigelica stood beneath those four words, looking up at them for a long time.

"What's wrong?" Dania asked.

"It's alright," she said in a low voice. "I told you last time I came, this place has all the rules, so you won't get heartburned."

She paused for a moment.

It's a bit cold today.

"The cold is an illusion," Zhou Yu said. "The heating is on full blast inside."

Zhou Yu.

"Um."

"Some coldness isn't about temperature."

Zhou Yu glanced at her but didn't reply. He could tell that her words weren't a complaint; rather, someone had crossed out a line in her heart.

Staff members stopped Dania at the door, gesturing with their arms. "The person involved may enter alone; family members are not permitted."

Dania's feet were planted firmly on the ground. She turned to look at Zhou Yu, her fingers slowly clenching his sleeve until they turned white.

Zhou Yu completely enveloped her hand and squeezed it twice.

"I'm at the door," he said. "I brought lunch in, but they wouldn't let me in, so I'll eat at the door."

"Liar," Dania whispered.

"They're being lied to."

The door to the interrogation room closed. Only Zhou Yu, Sigelica, and Chisa remained in the corridor. Chisa leaned against the window, her hand on her knife, standing ramrod straight.

The sound of turning pages came from inside the door, one page, two pages, the turning becoming slower and slower.

The file was sealed in kraft paper, with the cover reading "List of Sonora Detainees." The edges of the paper were brittle and crumbled at the slightest touch.

The archivist spread the register on the table and turned to the page with the folded corner. The record was short, but the dates spanned seven days.

"On the seventh day after the disaster, the Old Honami District collapsed for the second time," the archivist read. "Two children were stranded, one minor registered as Chisaki, seven years old, and her companion, Chengxia. They were found on the seventh day of the search and rescue operation at the entrance of a drainage ditch on the west side of the ruins. At the time of their discovery, the registered children were being counted by themselves."

"What are you counting?" Zhou Yu asked through the door. It was Dania who asked first, before the registration staff could stop her.

The archivist paused for a moment, then read it aloud.

There were nineteen steel bars in the drainage ditch. She counted them from the first to the last, then started counting again. She made a schedule for herself, waking up every time to write a line. Once a page was full, she would fold it up and continue writing the next day.

The room was silent for a few seconds.

"She schedules her own schedule?" Sigelica's voice was hoarse through the door.

"This is what the original record says." The archivist turned the page over to show them.

A line of small, crooked writing on the paper, each line preceded by a number:

First, wake up and count the steel bars.

Second, after counting, take a sip of water.

Third, knock on the wall three times and wait for a response.

Fourth, no response. Continue counting.

There are forty-seven lines in total.

The archivist capped his pen, his voice softening slightly. "The recorder asked her why she kept counting. She said something, which was copied verbatim."

He finished reading that page.

She said that people don't panic when counting.

Outside the door, Sigelica slid halfway down the wall, her eyes red-rimmed, still stubbornly saying, "What's this... this child is treating her discomfort like a form."

Zhou Yu didn't speak. He opened the schedule, turned to the page with the word "shaking noise" written on it, and added a line of small print in the margin:

Sonora, seven days, forty-seven lines.

Chisaki later recounted another incident. On the third day of the search and rescue, her parents waited outside the ruins for three days, but instead of seeing her, they received a registration notice stating that their child had been picked up by someone else.

The person who took me away left me only a note with just one line. "Don't let her go back to the old town."

When Chisaki recounted this, her tone was so flat it was as if she were reading someone else's story.

"The child was frightened," Zhou Yu wrote on the application materials outside the door. "So my first reaction was to protect the shop. The shop is here, Bozai is here, I'm not moving."

He later learned that when Chisaki was brought back that year, the family's shop had already been occupied by someone else for three months. It was Chisaki who squatted at the door with Bozai in her arms, refusing to budge an inch, saying, "This is my shop."

On the way back, no one spoke much.

On the tram, Dania leaned against Zhou Yu and slept for a short while. When she woke up, she was still clutching his sleeve. Chisaki sat in the last row, her terminal on and the screen lit, but she wasn't looking at anything.

The shop was bustling with activity as usual. Zhou Yu opened the door, Chisa wiped the counter, Sigelica arranged the cups, Bozai rolled around on the mat. Dania carried a plate of sample bread, and they stuffed pieces into Dania's mouth one by one, while they ate some themselves, both of them with bulging cheeks.

Only Chisaki's seat was empty.

After closing time, she went into the kitchen alone.

Zhou Yu stood at the door with two glasses of water, but didn't go in.

"Chisaki."

The sound of cups and rags could be heard inside; she was still wiping the cups.

Zhou Yu.

"A new line has been added to the schedule." He handed over the notebook. "Ten minutes in the kitchen. If you feel like crying, it won't count towards your attendance record, and you won't lose your tofu pouch."

Chisaki looked down at that line of text and stared at it for a long time.

Zhou Yu.

"Um."

I won't cry.

"Okay." Zhou Yu put the notebook away. "Those ten minutes are for crying. The tools are ready."

He stepped back half a step. Dania came over with the bowl of hot porridge and took the spot by the door.

"No one is allowed in," she said to the door, "Including you."

"Does the Xiao Yu want to come in too?" Zhou Yu asked.

"Even Xiao Yu won't do." She was firm. "I'll stand guard at the door."

Zhou Yu handed her the porridge and turned to leave.

"Wait a minute." Dania took the bowl, holding it with both hands, and turned back to give him a sweet smile. "Thank you."

She didn't say whether she was thanking for the porridge or something else.

Twenty minutes later, Chisaki came out.

All the cups were wiped clean, not a single one was left, and they were stacked neatly. Her eyes were red, but she didn't look like she had been crying.

"Finished wiping?" Zhou Yu asked.

"I'm done wiping them," she said. "There were only a few to begin with."

The terrace is on the second floor at the back, and you can see the spire of the Rainbow Sound Tower. The night is cool, and the stars are sparse.

Chisaki placed the terminal on the railing; the screen displayed the eleven-second recording waveform.

"I need to find out what that noise is," she said. "It was the last sound I heard when I was a child."

"At last?"

"The last one in the ruins." She looked at the waveform. "When they found me on the seventh day, there was a voice that kept ringing in the distance. I remembered the tune, but not the words. Just now in the shop, I heard it again, exactly the same."

"It's a teacher." Zhou Yu recalled his assessment that night on the Black Shores. "It's not copying homework, it's a teacher."

"The teacher has been dead for decades," Chisaki said. "So this voice means someone still wants to finish teaching it."

The wind blew her hair onto her face, but she ignored it.

Dania, sitting on the steps, suddenly spoke.

"Xiao Yu."

"Um."

Will I disappear too?

Zhou Yu turned his head.

She didn't look at him, but at her own hands. "Dania is the vessel. If the vessel breaks, it's gone, right?"

"We don't discuss this in this shop," Zhou Yu said.

"I want to discuss this," she insisted. "Then let me ask you."

Zhou Yu reached out and pulled her hand over, interlocking her fingers one by one until they were completely aligned, not letting go of a single one.

"Your name is on my schedule," he said. "Removing it would require me to change it word by word. I'm too lazy."

"Just leave it as is if you're lazy."

"Keep it," Zhou Yu said. "I'm lazy, so it'll stay forever."

Dania looked down at her two clasped hands and remained silent for a long time.

They held hands until dawn.

As dawn broke, Chisaki's phone lit up on the railing.

She picked it up; the screen showed an email from the registry.

The title consists of only one line: Notice Regarding Adjustment of Review Time.