Persona 2: Innocent Sin Novel, Prologue (English Translation)

“—Yoshizaka. You have any interest in transitioning to middle-distance races?” I can barely even remember the face of my middle-school coach, but that remark and voice are the only things that remain clearly in my memory. Probably because I was asked so many times. Since I’d done well enough as a short-distance runner in middle school, it seemed like my coach was adamant about having me become a star mid-distance runner. I continued to decline. It didn’t suit me. Practice is too demanding. I don’t have the stamina. What came after that again? I had multiple excuses prepared. I can’t remember them all.

After awhile, my coach stopped bringing it up. I’d break my own record over and over again anyway. Around the time I moved on to high school, I’d been burdened with the title of “Rising Star of the Track team”.

I loved the instant a race started. From the moment I got into starting position, the surroundings and colors would blur out like an old photograph. The only thing I could see is the path stretched out in front of me. My entire being concentrates on the starting signal, lunging forward the instant I hear it. After that I can’t hear anything. I can’t see anything. Even if another runner and I are neck-and-neck, I don’t pay attention. The victor is decided within mere seconds. The instant I break through the tape at the finish line, the sounds and colors return.

Because the thrill of that moment came to an end, I couldn’t even begin to think about running long races. My muscles instantly become sore from overuse, and everything else felt good in comparison. Other than experiencing that feeling of tension, it wasn’t worth it to continue mid-distance racing. I surely don’t have the stamina. Physically, but even more so mentally.

At the meeting’s end, a lower classman ran over to me. It’s Noriko Katayama, who’s a year below me. Noriko bounced by my side energetically, then girlishly presented me with an embroidered towel.

“Keep it up, keep it up~! Aim for the olympics!!”

I chuckled dryly at Noriko’s perky childishness. The olympics? Don’t make me laugh.

While I outwardly pretend to handle things well, I barely shared that thought. I was the girls’ high school level record holder, and was even recognized as the track and field’s “most outstanding talent of the decade.” When it came to the idea of competing at an international level, it was never an unachievable dream.

Someday…

People all over the world won’t be able to look away from me, displayed on their TV screens. Thousands of people will cheer for me as I take the lead, breaking through the tape that marks the finish line in a magnificent display. That day will come. Eventually.

Definitely.

I truly believed in that.

I was such an idiot.

No one knows what’ll happen tomorrow. I tried to get back to happier days. Even now, I sometimes have dreams. Dreams of a confident victory, pride swelling in my chest as I cross the finish line and break through the pure white tape. But this time, at the race’s end, the sounds and colors don’t return. When I look around, there’s no one there. The people who were cheering, as well as the other competitors, are all gone. I stand alone, in a monochrome field.

When I happen to look down, my right leg is shattered. Within this colorless world, only my leg gushes with vivid red blood. Before my eyes the pool of blood rapidly grew, and I was drowning in a sea of my own blood. I’d let out a scream, and that’s where I’d wake up.

Why would I still have this dream? I no longer have any attachment to running. I don’t understand what I’m feeling. And because I don’t understand, I don’t think about it. I soak in languor, fixedly watching the time pass by. Those are my favorite times. Day after day, I doze off while I wait for the world to end.