The air in the conference room was so thick it might have congealed.
On the projector screen, the shaky footage played on a loop — the red-and-silver giant, the green Rope Beam, and finally that Cluster Beam tearing the darkness open.
The video ended, went back to the beginning, and replayed itself automatically.
"Can someone tell me what, exactly, that thing is?"
Tokugawa's voice came out slow and dragging, roughened by age. His clouded eyes swept both sides of the long table before settling on Ampere's face.
Ampere's mouth twitched.
"The video is genuine. Our technical division has already authenticated it — no cuts, no effects, no trace of compositing. Our investigation confirms that at roughly eight o'clock yesterday evening a life-form referred to as the Giant of Light, Ultraseven, did in fact appear. The location was the Saeki haunted house in Nerima Ward, and the thing Ultraseven fought was none other than the infamous Kayako of the Ju-on."
"And? You're telling me Ultraman is real? That he came from Nebula M78? To protect the Earth?"
Aso made no effort to hide the mockery in his voice.
"Ultraseven could be an esper. But it's unlikely that Ultraseven is an esper."
Sasagawa Ryo said it gravely.
Espers cannot deal with a Ju-on. That was common knowledge.
In the decades since Kayako's death, the espers lost to her numbered, if not a hundred, then at least eighty. The strong ones, like Indou Ranko, walked away intact — though even she never dared make a careless move. The weak ones simply became part of the curse.
And now that Ju-on, the one no esper had ever been able to dispose of, had shown up in the form of a giant monster and been crushed head-on by something that looked exactly like Ultraseven. Not only that — while it fought the curse, that Ultraseven-like being had also shielded over a thousand residents of Nerima Ward after the Saeki house collapsed and the curse spilled out.
Without that last detail, Ultraseven might have been written off as a Tsuburaya publicity stunt. As things stood, they had no choice but to wonder whether Ultraman — and the Land of Light — genuinely existed.
"Still… it isn't impossible that someone who isn't even an esper suddenly acquired the ability to transform into that Ultraseven shape."
There was something odd in Takatsukasa's face as he floated an even more preposterous possibility.
Preposterous as it was, the room had nothing to say. Not one man spoke up to refute it.
Because preposterous or not, ordinary people turning into inexplicable shapes for inexplicable reasons was hardly a rare occurrence.
Not science, not magic, not even the occult. No theory accounted for it. The only word that covered it was supernatural.
"But we can't rule out Ultraman entirely either, can we? Extraterrestrial life and unidentified organisms are both real, after all."
The old man with the surname Saionji raised a possibility more absurd still.
The general public had no idea, but at their level it was thoroughly established: life-forms that had come from space did exist in this world.
And the pharmaceutical firm founded by Kitano Tadashi — Saionji's old subordinate — after he laundered his record in the postwar years, developed medicines only on the surface. Behind that facade, its primary purpose was capturing bizarre creatures for bioweapons research.
The men traded glances, every face wearing the same peculiar look.
In a world this absurd, nothing was too ridiculous to be possible — which, perversely, made the truth all the harder to close in on.
Tokugawa was silent for a long while. His finger tapped the tabletop twice more before he spoke.
"Tsuburaya… let's begin the investigation with Tsuburaya for now. And with Moritsugu Koji, the actor who played Ultraseven, and the suit actors as well. Whether there really are aliens called Ultraman, or this is some transformation that defies all common sense, I want a definite answer."
Tokugawa's brows knitted into three deep vertical creases. He let out a soundless sigh and, with a trace of resignation, handed down the first round of assignments.
Their center of gravity was still the capture of that Kawakami Tomie. For an Ultraman incident that had so far displayed almost no threat, this was as far as any investigation could reasonably go.
The Setagaya area of Tokyo. Tsuburaya Productions headquarters.
It was not an especially tall building, its outer walls a clean off-white, its glass curtain wall throwing back the noon sun. A life-sized Ultraman statue stood at the entrance — the original Ultraman, frozen in the opening pose of the Specium Ray, his red and silver paint faintly aglow in the light.
A black Toyota Alphard pulled up at the door.
The doors opened, and the Deputy Commissioner of the Agency for Cultural Affairs climbed out with his secretary and two close-protection officers.
"Quite a crowd."
The Deputy Commissioner said it with some surprise, looking up at the Tsuburaya office building.
A crowd had massed outside Tsuburaya, fifty people at the very least. Some held up phones to take photos with the original Ultraman statue; children ran back and forth waving replica Ultraseven Eye Sluggers; and no small number were shouting toward the lobby.
"What was that Ultraseven last night? Is Ultraman real?"
"Is this promotion for a new project?"
"Don't tell me the Ultraman series is a documentary!"
"Hey! Give us an explanation! You can't make us come all this way for nothing!"
Two men in Tsuburaya work uniforms stood at the door looking harried, saying something to the crowd.
From their gestures, they seemed to be urging everyone to leave.
Only a night and a morning had passed since the Giant of Light incident. It hadn't fully fermented yet, but plenty of fans were already on the move.
And not just fans. Reporters too.
"Viewers, I'm standing outside the headquarters of Tsuburaya Productions. As you can see, a large crowd of fans and local residents has gathered behind me, all drawn here by last night's Giant of Light incident in Nerima Ward. So — is this promotion for a new Tsuburaya production, or has an Ultraman truly descended among us? Let's try to get an interview—"
Before the reporter could finish, a middle-aged man in a Tsuburaya uniform came striding out through the automatic doors, wearing a textbook PR smile.
"I'm sorry, the president isn't taking interviews today. We ask for our friends in the media to understand. An official statement will follow shortly."
"Just one question!"
"Did last night's giant have any connection to Tsuburaya?"
"Does the president already know something?"
The moment a senior executive appeared, the reporters surged forward as one, microphones shoved almost into the man's face.
"Let's go."
The Deputy Commissioner took in the scene without a flicker of expression, said the word to his secretary and the two officers, and started for the entrance.
The two uniformed employees at the door were busy fending off fans and reporters when one of them noticed the group approaching.
Sharp suits, composed bearing, two heavyset men trailing behind who were obviously bodyguards — clearly no ordinary visitors. He blinked, then hurried over to meet them.
"Good afternoon. May I ask who—"
The Deputy Commissioner's secretary stepped forward and handed over a business card.
"Agency for Cultural Affairs. We have an appointment with President Tsuburaya."
The employee glanced at the card, and his manner turned respectful at once.
"Ah, yes, yes — the president is expecting you. This way, please."
He turned sideways to lead them, pushing open the glass door and putting the reporters and fans at their backs.
"Excuse us, excuse us. Official business."
The reporters still tried to press in, but the two protection officers planted themselves in the gap. Solid bodies and the presence of men who had worked security for years held the crowd off.
By the time they recovered, the Deputy Commissioner was already inside the lobby, and all they could do was watch someone else walk into Tsuburaya unimpeded. A few of the sharper-eyed ones had caught what was printed on the card, though, and the speculation outside multiplied.
The glass doors swung shut behind them, sealing the clamor outside.
The lobby was far quieter than the street, though a subtle tension ran through it all the same.
The young woman at the front desk was on the phone, her face a little flustered.
"Yes — yes, of course… but the president truly has no time today… please understand…"
In the lounge area not far off, several employees in work uniforms stood holding coffee, discussing the Giant of Light incident.
"…Technical said it again just now. That video really has no effects in it."
"Then what on earth was it? It can't actually be Ultraseven, can it?"
"Who knows. Maybe Ultraman really does exist. Think of Ultraman Tiga, the one shot a few years back — episode forty-nine, wasn't it? 'The Ultra Star.' The alien Charija comes to Tsuburaya Productions wanting to buy a live monster for a pet. There's a Tsuburaya inside the show too, and monsters, and aliens."
"Ha! By that logic Ultraman Tiga is a documentary? Tsuburaya is real, so the monsters and the Ultramen are real too?"
"Maybe old man Eiji really was a Venusian."
…
The employees went on trading half-believing theories about Ultraman. The Deputy Commissioner passed by, took every word of it in, and found a thoughtful look settling over his face.
That Ultraman truly existed in this world — he didn't much believe that.
But every piece of evidence so far suggested the notion was no idle nonsense.
The sixth-floor office was spacious and well lit. A few Ultraman figures stood on the windowsill, and the shelves along the wall were crammed with documents and videotapes, plus a handful of DVDs from overseas releases.
Photographs hung on the walls: a black-and-white portrait of Eiji Tsuburaya, group shots of production crews, candid stills from tokusatsu shoots.
President Tsuburaya sat behind his desk, eyes fixed on the computer in front of him, where the same footage looped. A cigarette burned down to the filter was pinched between his fingers, and the ashtray at his elbow already held five or six butts.
The sound of the door pulled him out of his daze. Seeing the Deputy Commissioner, he crushed the stub into the ashtray, came around from behind the desk, and put out his hand.
"Good afternoon, Deputy Commissioner."
"Forgive me for calling on you unannounced."
The Deputy Commissioner took his hand and answered with a smile.
"Not at all. Please, sit."
There was a thread of exhaustion in President Tsuburaya's smile.
They settled onto the sofa by the window. The secretary brought tea, then withdrew and eased the door shut behind her.
"You've come about last night's video, I take it?"
President Tsuburaya went straight to the point.
The Deputy Commissioner nodded, just as direct.
"That's right. It's all over the internet by now, and people are saying everything imaginable. Some claim it's promotion for a new Tsuburaya production, some claim Ultraman is genuinely real. As the supervising ministry, we're obliged to understand the situation."
He paused, watching the other man's face.
"So I'd like to ask you plainly: does last night's Giant of Light in Nerima Ward have any connection to your company?"
"None! The Nerima Ward Giant of Light incident has nothing whatsoever to do with this company. We had no shoots scheduled yesterday, no promotional events, no related projects of any kind—"
President Tsuburaya said it firmly, but his gaze drifted again as he spoke.
"To be honest, this company was built on Ultraman, and yet I've never believed Ultraman existed. Until now, at least, I knew perfectly well he was an imaginary hero."
"And now you're beginning to believe? Because of last night's Giant of Light incident in Nerima Ward?"
The Deputy Commissioner picked up the thread.
President Tsuburaya nodded without a word.
He did not think the footage was faked. By all the known evidence, a Giant of Light identical to Ultraseven had appeared in Nerima Ward yesterday evening and defeated a vengeful-spirit monster that endangered human life.
"Is that purely a matter of hope and wishful thinking on your part, or do you have something more solid?"
The Deputy Commissioner pressed without ceremony.
"I have never seen an Ultraman. My father… perhaps never did either. At the very least, he left behind no proof that one existed. His encounter with the original Ultraman is a story that can be neither verified nor disproved. If you insist on an answer — it's simply that I want Ultraman to be real."
President Tsuburaya was silent for a moment before he spoke.
It was a story a great many people knew. In 1965, unable to sleep, Eiji Tsuburaya went walking by Lake Ryugamori and saw a blue sphere of light fall into the water. There he met the original Ultraman, and after a brief exchange, Ultraman gave him The Ultra Star as a token of friendship. Later he witnessed the original Ultraman and Ultraman Tiga join forces to defeat the space dinosaur Yanakaagie.
"We need a hero, Kinjo. A hero is essential! A hero!"
That line was the founding impulse behind Eiji Tsuburaya's creation of the Ultraman series.
But it was only a story — a story and lines of dialogue from Ultraman Tiga. Eiji Tsuburaya himself had never actually declared that he was a Venusian.
"And there's no corroborating evidence of any kind?"
The Deputy Commissioner's brows drew together slightly, unsatisfied with that answer, and he pressed straight on.
"No—"
President Tsuburaya was about to finish when he stopped short, as though something had occurred to him, and his certainty wavered.
"Corroboration… I'm not certain whether it counts as corroboration, Deputy Commissioner, but — have you seen Ultra Q?"
"Of course. The precursor to the Ultraman series. Black and white, a program about monsters."
The Deputy Commissioner's eyes lit up as he answered.
"The Ultraman series may be fantasy television, but I can guarantee you this: a considerable number of the monsters in Ultra Q were not conjured out of thin air by my father or myself."
President Tsuburaya's voice dropped low.
"Monsters that genuinely exist?"
The Deputy Commissioner's breath caught, his voice rising higher than he intended. Beside him, the two close-protection officers heard the answer and stared at President Tsuburaya, eyes wide.
____
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