Many people attended Kazuki’s funeral.
Classmates from his elementary school came, too, but it seemed they couldn’t really grasp the gravity of the death of a classmate they’d never met.
Shoko and I were also invited. She had removed all her usual makeup, dressed neatly in mourning attire, and maintained a respectful demeanor.
Mai continuously bowed deeply to everyone who had gathered. Her bloodshot eyes and the dark circles under them were severe. It was clear to anyone that she hadn’t slept at all.
“That thing she mentioned before, something that would make a child happy… that was about Kawase-san’s little brother, wasn’t it?”
Shoko seemed more dejected than usual.
“I’m sorry… I wish I’d taken it more seriously when she was consulting me.”
“It’s not your fault. Thanks to you, Kazuki had a great time.”
I sipped at the lukewarm coffee I couldn’t seem to finish, lingering in the lounge of the hall. My body felt sluggish, drained of all energy. Time seemed to crawl painfully slowly, but at the same time, it was hard to believe it had already been two days since Kazuki died.
“Kazuki-kun made it to heaven, right? That’s amazing. Getting 200 points at just eight years old—there aren’t many who achieve that. He must’ve worked really hard.”
“Yeah, he did.”
“What kind of things was he doing?—Ah, I don’t mean this because I want to use it as a reference or anything.”
“It’s fine.”
Shoko stumbled, trying to cover up her words.
I knew she wanted to raise her own human level, but I also knew she wouldn’t exploit someone’s tragedy just to rack up points. She was probably just curious. I told her about Kazuki’s good deeds, everything I knew.
Listening intently to each story, Shoko’s expression gradually grew more serious.
“That’s… all?”
“Huh?”
“Oh, no… I didn’t mean that in a bad way… Sorry, just forget it.”
Shoko seemed lost in thought before asking another question.
“Kazuki-kun said he met God, right?”
“Yeah, just before he passed.”
“I see…”
Shoko brought a hand to her mouth, thinking, as though something didn’t sit right with her.
“What’s wrong? Something bothering you?”
“…No, not really.”
And with that, Shoko stopped thinking about it. She patted my shoulder lightly, took the coffee from my hand, and downed it in one gulp.
“Kawase-san is really down, you know. She needs you. Make sure to look after her, alright?”
“I know.”
Prompted by Shoko, I headed toward Mai. In the end, she never said what had been on her mind.
When the service ended, Mai stood quietly before the casket. I approached her gently, and she turned to me slowly, speaking clearly.
“I’m going to keep helping others. I’ll work hard to do everything Kazuki couldn’t so that one day, I can meet him in heaven.”
“…Yeah, I’ll start taking points seriously, too. I promised I’d be with him even after I die. Wouldn’t want to mess that up and end up in hell by mistake.”
Mai gently traced her fingers along the casket where Kazuki lay.
“I thought he’d be angry with me. I mean… doing good deeds for my own sake just to see him again… it doesn’t feel right.”
“…I think it’s okay if there’s a little reward involved, don’t you?”
“I used to think I didn’t need anything in return… But now… now I just really want to go to heaven. I want to see him again.”
“Do you remember what I said on the train? I said something like, ‘Maybe people like you need human level the most.’”
“Yes, I remember.”
“That’s what I meant.”
Mai looked at me with a slightly bewildered expression, then smiled faintly.
“What do you think Kazuki is doing in heaven right now?”
“Probably playing the next level of Pazumon.”
Mai smiled, a single tear slipping down her cheek.
After the ceremony, I went home, collapsed into bed, and drifted into a sleep so deep it felt like I’d melted into mud.
Like Mai, I hadn’t slept at all, so I thought I’d fall into a dreamless slumber, but strangely enough, it seemed I was dreaming.
It was a beautiful meadow, lush with vibrant green.
The sun shone brightly in a vast blue sky, and nearby, I could hear the soothing murmur of a clear stream.
In this paradise, surrounded by colorful flowers, animals of all kinds frolicked freely. The cool breeze relieved the warmth of the sun that had enveloped my body.
If heaven existed, surely, it would look like this.
A paradise liberated from every negative notion, a sanctuary of peace.
Kazuki was there.
“Big brother! You came!”
Kazuki ran toward me with a joyful smile.
Seeing him there, a healthy boy in a T-shirt and shorts, not a hospital gown, brought tears to my eyes. I was just so happy to hear his voice again.
“Hey. It’s only been two days, huh? How’ve you been?”
“Great!”
“Is heaven a good place?”
“Yeah! It’s always warm, there’s no night, and I’ve made tons of friends!”
“That’s great to hear.”
I lifted Kazuki up and gazed into his face. Free from pain and suffering, he looked fulfilled, his expression radiant with pure happiness.
“…”
I felt someone watching from behind and gently set Kazuki down.
“Is this really what heaven is like?”
“Your human imagination is incredible. How do you picture heaven so accurately when you’ve never even seen it?”
God appeared, striding through the grass, each step softly rustling the blades.
Dressed as always in a white robe with a shining golden ring above her head, the goddess surveyed the heaven I’d imagined, visibly impressed.
“Or maybe it’s the other way around? Since the souls of the dead come to heaven, it’s possible heaven has gradually changed to reflect human imaginations. Either way, it’s pretty impressive. This place really does exist, after all. To think you could conjure all this in a dream…”
“Enough with the chatter. Let’s get this over with.”
“Hehe. True, no point wasting time.”
With a snap of her fingers, the goddess made the meadow disappear, replaced by the usual cloudy white void.
“Let’s begin the Dream Review, Yuichi-kun.”
The goddess flipped through the papers she held, murmuring as she went.
“The last Dream Review was about a month ago, and since then, you’ve… wow! You’ve been busy. Volunteering four times a week, helping various people at school, visiting Kawase Kazuki-kun on weekends. That’s excellent. And most importantly… hmm, truly remarkable. You’ve received a good amount of ‘corrections.’”
“Corrections?”
“Think of it as bonus points.”
“I thought there were no bonuses?”
“Did I say that? If you’re not convinced, I can go through each point in detail. It’ll take a while, though.”
“No need. Just get it over with.”
“Alright, then. Your current points are plus 167 points, making your total human level 476. Just 24 points left, and you’ll be promoted to E Rank!”
“Did you say… plus 167 points?”
Thinking I’d misheard, I asked again.
“That’s right. You’ve really done well. I’m thrilled!!”
“That’s… unusually generous of you.”
“Oh, I’m only awarding points that match your deeds.”
I couldn’t shake my doubts. Considering that cleaning the pool was worth only three points, I didn’t think volunteering a dozen times would net anywhere near 100 points.
Even factoring in visiting Kazuki, I couldn’t understand how I’d earned as many as 167 points’ worth of good deeds.
“Well, whatever. If you can earn so many points that easily…”
Then it’s not unreasonable that Kazuki could’ve earned around 50 points. I found myself surprisingly calm as I chatted with the goddess.
“Unless you have any further questions, I’ll conclude the Dream Review. Sound good?”
“I have plenty to ask.”
“I’ll answer whatever I can.”
“Did you meet Kazuki?”
“Yes. He’s such a sweet boy.”
“Is heaven really a place where a kid like him can get by? Is there… I mean, does he have everything he needs?”
“I’m afraid I can’t discuss the afterlife. Sorry.”
“But heaven is like the place we just saw, right? People with 200 points live happily there, right?”
“Of course not.”
The goddess flatly denied it. I stared at her, stunned.
“There’s no way you’d get to live somewhere like that for just 200 points. That was the middle layer of heaven. Only a C Rank can get in, and only if they’re on the higher end. An F Rank would never even come close.”
“So, heaven has classes, then?”
“Upper, middle, and lower levels. Most people are in the lower level, though it’s still much better than hell. There’s a world of difference, believe me. Hell… hell is awful. It stinks.”
“So… Kazuki’s in the lower level?”
“Hm? No, Kazuki-kun went to hell.”
……
“…Huh?”
My voice came out like a feeble gasp, as if all my muscles had gone limp.
I couldn’t comprehend what she’d just said.
“What… what do you mean? What did you say?”
“Hell stinks.”
“That’s not what I asked! Where did you say Kazuki went?!”
“The upper level of hell.”
There was no mistaking it. This woman, this god in charge of assigning souls, had indeed just said that Kazuki went to hell.
“Are you kidding me? Why the hell would Kazuki go to hell?”
My voice was low and small, startling even me. I guess that’s how I sound when I’m past the boiling point of anger.
“Why? He didn’t have enough points. I believe he had… 142 points.”
“One hundred forty-two? That can’t be. He should have at least 150, right?”
“Why?”
“He told me so. He said he reached 150 almost two months ago.”
“He did say that, yes. But that was a lie. I never told him such a thing.”
It felt like sparks ignited in my mind. I clenched my teeth so tightly that my jaw almost gave way, trying to keep myself from losing it entirely.
“Just before he died… he said he met you. That he had a Dream Review.”
“That would never happen. Why would we do a Dream Review right before someone dies when they’re coming here anyway? It’d be redundant, an unnecessary hassle. Besides, Dream Reviews are meant to give guidance for the rest of one’s life. There’d be no point in doing it for someone about to die. The last time I reviewed him was about two weeks before he passed. I clearly told him he’d go to hell if he didn’t change.”
“So, you’re saying he lied? Why would he do that?”
“Questions should be reserved for things you don’t understand. Asking the obvious is a waste of time, Yuichi-kun.”
The obvious reason. There was only one reason Kazuki would lie.
“To… keep us from worrying.”
“Oh? And which lie are you referring to?”
“What?”
“The lie about having 150 points? Or the one about having earned 200 points?”
“…Both.”
“Then, wrong.”
“…?”
The goddess chuckled softly, and her laughter grated on my nerves.
“Now, is that all your questions? If so, I’ll wrap up the Dream Review—”
“Why the hell does Kazuki have to go to hell?”
My voice trembled as I asked again. The goddess shrugged as if bored.
“Come on, don’t make me repeat myself. He didn’t have enough points.”
“Of course he didn’t!!”
Unable to contain my fury any longer, I shouted at her, every word like spitting blood.
“He was only eight! Eight years old! What was he supposed to do?! What good deeds was he supposed to perform?!
So what? Does every kid go to hell when they die?! Huh?!”
“Mostly, yes. It’s rare for a child to accumulate 200 points.”
“That’s insane! Hell is for bad people! Kazuki was a good kid. He didn’t do anything wrong. Why does a child who fought to survive have to end up in hell?! That’s absurd!”
“It’s not a new concept, is it? Children dying is tragic. It’s unfair. That’s always been true, regardless of heaven and hell.”
“It’s your job as a god to save them!”
“Save them? Why should we save those who ‘couldn’t be of use to anyone’?”
Something snapped inside me, and my vision turned a fiery red.
“You… you arrogant piece of trash, just because you’re a god… you wretched hag…!”
She looked at me as one would a rabid dog, sneering with barely hidden amusement.
“Yuichi-kun, as a merciful goddess, I’ll forgive you, but your words right now are a problem, you know?”
“Shut up… You’re no god… All you do is calculate scores mechanically, you brainless tyrant!”
“Yuichi-kun.”
“Don’t you have any emotions? Think for a moment—anyone with a conscience would know it’s wrong to send Kazuki to hell! What is this human level? What is ‘good deeds’? You haven’t even explained the criteria, yet you threw Kazuki into hell! You’re nothing but a devil!”
“Oh.”
The goddess sighed deeply, then flipped through her documents.
“Yuichi-kun… that was a banned word. Geez… I’m sorry, but I have to deduct a point. Just one point, though. So, your current human level is…”
I struck the papers from her hand with all my strength. She sighed again and looked me square in the eye.
“Yuichi-kun, those were precious papers made from the Great Tree Godcliff’s wood—”
“Why did you reveal human level to the world?”
I moved in so close I could grab her by the collar and leaned in, glaring fiercely.
“Don’t tell me it was to ‘make the world a better place.’”
“I can’t tell you that, but I gave you a hint last time, didn’t I?”
“Spit it out! You decide everything without telling us a thing! You think I’ll accept that Kazuki ended up in hell without an explanation?”
Today, I wouldn’t let her get away. If she tried to dismiss me, I’d keep pressing until she talked.
The goddess met my gaze in silence, unwavering. Ten seconds passed, then a minute, before she finally raised both hands in mock surrender.
“Alright, alright. I give up. I’ll tell you.”
“…No lying.”
“Lie? I’m not human, you know. In a few years, everyone will figure it out anyway, so it’s not a big deal if you know a bit early. Ah, guess I’ll have to write up a report later.”
“Talk now.”
“It’s a bit awkward to just stand here, though. How about a seat, maybe some snacks? Cheese, perhaps?”
“I don’t need anything. Just talk.”
“I want cheese. Yuichi-kun, have some with me.”
“Talk!”
With a sigh, she relented, lowering her hand.
“Alright, where should I start…? Like I said, heaven and hell are divided into ranks. The higher you go, the better the quality of life. The middle layer is exactly what most people imagine heaven to be. The upper layer is an absolute paradise. Ten thousand points are well worth it.”
“So, you’ve got a vacation house there, munching on cookies?”
“I’m more of a cheese fan.”
The goddess winked. I resisted the urge to punch her.
“But, you know, it doesn’t just become paradise for free. To maintain that paradise, a certain amount of labor is required.”
“Labor…?”
“That’s right. Hell’s residents and the people in the lower layers of heaven do the work that sustains the middle and upper layers. But over the last hundred years, that balance has been thrown off. The population in the middle and upper layers has grown too much, and hell’s workforce can’t keep up. So, I decided to reveal human level to the world to restore that balance.”
“…Wait a second. That doesn’t make sense. If people know about human level, they’ll try to do good deeds, right? Wouldn’t that increase the number of people going to heaven?”
“No, no, no.”
The goddess waggled her finger mysteriously.
“You’ve been dying to know how human level is evaluated, haven’t you?—Alright. I’ll tell you. ‘What defines a good deed, and how do we measure it?’”
She picked up the papers I’d knocked down, tapping them as she explained.
“Good and bad deeds are all listed out. There’s practically no good deed outside of what’s on this list, and each has a fixed value. But that’s not the important part. The key factor is ‘corrections.’”
“Corrections?”
She’d mentioned it earlier, saying my good deeds had benefited from considerable correction.
“Even the same act can earn wildly different points depending on the correction factor. In a way, this ‘correction’ is what truly determines good versus evil, and therefore defines the levels. You’ve always questioned why doing good sincerely versus half-heartedly yields the same points, haven’t you?”
I nodded silently.
“Two factors determine the correction for good deeds: ‘how much others don’t want to do it’ and ‘how grateful others are for it.’ These two factors.”
“…What does that mean in practical terms?”
It was abstract, but somehow, it made sense.
“No matter how good your intentions are, if the person receiving it doesn’t feel grateful, it’s self-righteousness, isn’t it? Not even hypocrisy. It’s a worthless act.”
“…And?”
“For instance, say a volunteer is requested, but no one wants to do it. The person making the request would feel troubled, right? If someone volunteers, that person would feel deeply appreciative, so we apply a higher correction.
—But if everyone volunteers? The requester won’t be particularly grateful. They might even think, ‘Everyone wants to volunteer. They want to increase their human level. I’m actually doing them a favor by letting them volunteer.’ Naturally, gratitude would diminish, and so would the value of the good deed.”
“…”
“Similarly, even if the deed is the same, if it’s done as part of a job, the points are lower. People are rarely as grateful when it’s someone’s job. People might thank someone who picks up litter in the park, but not the person collecting garbage as a job, right?
—Does this explain why I revealed human level?”
“…So…”
In other words…
“You want people to lose their gratitude? To fight over good deeds…!”
If people stop being grateful for good deeds, corrections won’t apply as much. Points will become harder to accumulate.
As points grow scarce, people will get desperate and rush to perform good deeds, competing with one another.
As competition increases, the value of good deeds will further decline, and people will become even less grateful.
Eventually, even minor acts of kindness won’t yield enough points.
Only a select few would make it to heaven’s upper layer, and many would be funneled into the lower level.
The labor of these people would then fuel the comfort of those living in paradise.
“You’re rotten. You’re taking away people’s gratitude, casting them into hell… And you call yourself a god!”
But the goddess, rather than faltering under my accusation, smiled a sly smile, showing no remorse.
“Hehehe… You don’t understand, Yuichi-kun. If people truly lost their gratitude, it wouldn’t be because of me. That’s human nature.”
“What are you saying?”
“Doesn’t it seem, when you think about it, that whether or not there’s any hidden motive in a kind act doesn’t actually matter? Someone is in trouble, someone else helps. Isn’t that the only important part?
If people recognized that and expressed genuine gratitude, there’d be no problem.”
“…”
“But as soon as they start wondering whether someone’s good deed is truly selfless or not, people stop being grateful. When good deeds become associated with points, they start mocking people as hypocrites, even if those good deeds are genuine. ‘I only think that way because I would do it too’—that’s human nature, Yuichi-kun. Selfish, envious, ungrateful… I merely took advantage of that nature.”
“…”
“In the beginning, the people who genuinely worked hard earned the most points. Because they were truly appreciated. But in just a few years, no one cared to distinguish anymore. You’ve often told me that ‘it’s wrong to give the same points to those who are sincere and those who are insincere,’ but heh…”
“…”
“You completely missed the point, Yuichi-kun. It wasn’t me who failed to give more points to sincere people; it was you humans. It’s your shallow understanding that created the unfairness you speak of.”
“…So, the value of good deeds is…”
“Exactly. The value of good deeds is determined by those who receive them. In a way, that’s what separates true goodness from self-righteousness. I merely set the base and multiplier for corrections. The actual points depend on you.”
I couldn’t say anything. I felt as though I’d been crushed by utter despair. If what she was saying was true… then Kazuki going to hell… meant…
“The good deeds you’ve done over the past month were wonderful. Though the base score was low, Kawase Mai-san and Kawase Kazuki-kun… both were genuinely grateful to you. Truly. Not just for your volunteer work or your visits, but for every word of kindness you offered. That’s why you earned so many points.”
“…”
“As for Kazuki-kun’s parents, they were hopeless. They made him do things, sure, but they didn’t have an ounce of gratitude. They treated it like they were just having him do homework. Naturally, the correction was abysmal, and the base score of his deeds was so low they weren’t even worth evaluating. No wonder he didn’t accumulate points.”
“…Are you saying we’re the reason Kazuki ended up in hell? That he fell because we didn’t appreciate him?”
“Shall I put it bluntly? That’s right.”
“If you had told us that sooner—!”
“Would you really have been grateful? Sincerely? ‘I’ll be grateful because it’ll increase his points’—now, isn’t that strange?”
“…!”
“But there was a chance.”
Suddenly, the goddess’s usual air of detachment changed, and she looked at me with a serious expression.
“What…?”
“Do you remember my question earlier? ‘Why did Kazuki-kun lie?’—You said you’d fall into hell with him if it came to that. You cared that much. If you’d understood his feelings, if you’d recognized the meaning behind his lie… maybe those sixty points… I wonder.”
“What do you mean… about me…?—!”
At that moment, a possibility flashed through my mind. The words I’d spoken to Kazuki that day… Kazuki, did he… lie for my sake…?
“Alright, the Dream Review is over.”
The goddess announced it abruptly, making me raise my head.
“W-wait! I still—!”
“Yuichi-kun, I know you value the mindset of those who do good deeds. And I agree. That’s why, though it never existed before, we added a final review eight years ago. I’m sure you’ll pass.”
“Hey, are you listening to me?! Don’t just run away—!”
“Good morning, Yuichi-kun. Have a wonderful day.”
My hand, which had been reaching to grab her, merely swiped through empty air.
I jolted awake, springing up from bed, my fists clenched so tightly my palms bled.
“Damn it… damn it!”
I was overcome by a crushing frustration. There was nowhere to direct this anger. The helplessness, the shame—it was all unbearable.
—Why did Kazuki lie? I finally understood the answer.
…Kazuki knew. He knew he was going to hell. That’s why, when I said I’d follow him there, he lied… to keep me out of hell. He thought if I found out he was going to hell, I might end up there with him.
Even knowing he’d never see me again, knowing he was going to hell, he still lied to save me. Even in the depths of despair, he held back his tears, resisting the urge to cry out, determined to protect me.
—If this isn’t a good deed, then what is? Selfless and pure, willing to sacrifice himself for someone else. How could a child with such a kind heart be damned to hell?
“But there was a chance.”
…Is it because I didn’t realize? That I didn’t understand Kazuki’s heart, his intentions, and didn’t show gratitude for them? If I’d recognized his intentions and shown gratitude, would the correction have applied, allowing him to make it to heaven?
Are good deeds that go unrecognized really unworthy of correction?
“Say something, damn you! Answer me!”
I shouted in anger, directed at the god, at the world, at human level itself.
“Damn you! Damn you!”
With a clenched fist, I pounded on the bed. Then, collapsing, I buried my face into the bed and just cried my heart out.
