Message from 10 Minutes in the Future: 1. Prologue

Message from 10 Minutes in the Future

1. Prologue

I am sure I had been hearing them all along.
Such sounds, or perhaps voices.
Messages from the future.

They must have been reaching me.
I just hadn't noticed them.
Until that very moment when her call resonated in my heart.

── Excuse me! ──

On a midsummer afternoon, a woman called out to me.
Or rather, I was called out to by a "woman's voice."

Yes?
I looked around in surprise. Because until that moment, all I could hear was the chirping of cicadas, and there was absolutely no sign of anyone else.

Is... no one there?

I cast my sharp security guard's gaze in every direction, even up at the large trees where the cicadas were singing in a chorus, but indeed, there was no one.

Yet, the voice had sounded right beside me.

It was too realistic to be an auditory hallucination masked by the cicadas' chirping, and it was clearly different from the voices coming through my earpiece from radio dispatches.

Oh, great. Have I finally been done in by the heat?

A department store in a new residential area, a reasonable distance from the city center.
Our job as security guards in the summer involves either directing traffic on the road under the scorching sun, working in the sweltering underground delivery area, or standing at attention in the overly air-conditioned store.

A vendor's truck pulled out. At the same time, a young parent and child approached, holding hands.
All right, stop!
I had the truck stop, then said, "Yes, excuse me, please go ahead," prioritizing the pedestrians—usually store customers—first.
This back street, facing a lush, spacious central park, had sparse foot traffic compared to the hustle and bustle on the station side. It was perfect for a vendor-only loading dock, but since customers occasionally used it to enter the store from the back, the utmost caution was required.

A woman carrying a black lace parasol walked slowly past, minding my movements... or so I thought, before she turned on her heel and walked briskly back.
Did she forget her wallet or something?

Excuse me!

── Huh!? ──

I know this is sudden, but I really had to ask you.

There was no mistake. It was the same voice from before. Had time... gone backward?

Do cicadas ever fall from the sky?

“Huh!?”

“Standing under this big tree where so many cicadas are buzzing for such a long time... is it possible that a cicada might fall onto someone’s head?”

My head was spinning. Why would she ask something like that? Was this some kind of complaint? Was she saying it was a nuisance that a giant cicada tree existed on the department store grounds, spanning the residents' walkway? That the buzzing was too loud? That we should clean up the carcasses properly?

“Well, I suppose you could say this is the best cicada-bearing tree in the area.”

For now, I gave a vague answer. That voice I’d heard ten minutes ago. Had this person been lurking in the shadows, watching me?

It was true that cicadas fell. They’d faint and die. Or they’d suddenly come back to life, flying in zig-zags in a dying state, thrashing about in their final moments. But had one ever hit my head? I didn’t think so.

“So they do fall, don’t they?” She urged me to agree, looking genuinely terrified.

“They don’t fall,” I said, straightening my posture and stating it clearly. I had to put the customer at ease. “Let alone hit you on the head.” And then, lowering my voice, I added a small caveat. “Well, I do see carcasses from time to time.”

“Oh, good! Then this parasol is no longer needed.”

The woman who emerged from under the quickly folded umbrella was a delicate-looking beauty, seemingly in her early thirties, and she didn’t seem like a complainer or a bad person at all.

“I’m just so afraid of cicadas,” she said, shrugging her shoulders and giving a cute, embarrassed smile that looked truly troubled.

So she wasn’t using the umbrella for shade, but for protection against insects. I couldn’t laugh even if I wanted to. I pressed my lips together tightly to hold back a laugh, desperately trying to maintain my serious security guard face.

“I’ve been worried about it for a long time, but now I can walk with peace of mind. Because if they don’t fall on you people who stand here all day, there’s absolutely no way a cicada would hit me, someone who only passes by occasionally!”

With a crackling noise, a radio call came through my earpiece. “Asado-san?” I raised one hand slightly to the customer, gesturing for her to “please wait a moment,” while responding to the radio.

“Change of plans. Please patrol B1 from now on.” “Understood.”

Sensing that she shouldn’t get in the way of my work, she gave a soft bow and walked away with a light step, leaving a gentle smile behind.

I had told a lie. To maintain the store’s reputation.

Her chestnut hair was styled in a fresh updo. Her beautiful nape was completely defenseless. I imagined a cicada falling, slipping into the wide gap in the back of her dress, and her screaming. My chest gave a sharp pang.

── I hope, with all my heart, that no cicada falls on her ──.

Soon after, I exchanged the customary salute with my replacement and hurried to the basement food floor of the store. When I stepped into the employee elevator, two young employees were excitedly talking while holding an advertisement for a special event.

"Asado-san, good work today!"
The male cashier was always full of energy.
"Good work. Is it busy? I got orders to help out at B1 temporarily."
"The special event started today, you see."
A female office worker said, clearly excited.
"I even reserved the limited-edition exquisite rich cheesecake!"
"The Hokkaido product fair is popular, after all. We've even added extra staff to the registers!"

The main attraction of the food floor was the weekly product fair featuring goods from all over the country. The Hokkaido fair, which boasted sweets made with plenty of rich milk and butter, luxurious bento boxes piled high with ranch meat and abundant seafood, and fresh vegetables from the land, was particularly popular. Since the first day always saw a high volume of customers and crowded sales floors, there was no room for complacency.

── Eek! Thief! ──

I jumped at the sound of that scream.
"What was that!?"

However, the two people riding with me were completely unbothered.
"What do you mean?"

"I said a thief! You heard it, didn't you!"

Huh? Nothing? I was left stunned by their carefree head-tilting.

→ Continued in 2. "The Predictive Voice and You, the Cicada"