On the occasion of being assigned a new roommate, it makes perfect sense to meditate for a moment on the past. However, when the result of those meditations is an immediate fear for the well-being of your new roommate, it's another matter altogether.
In under two years, I've had a minimum of eight or nine roommates, some so briefly it seemed as if a new notification arrived on my door the moment I pulled the last one off. At a point like this, given the constant assault of strangeness on the island, it only makes sense to wonder if otherworldly forces might actually be at work. Is the apartment haunted? Is there a sinister rift into a sealed dimension in the closet that makes roommates vanish and turn into giant crickets?
The only possible comfort that can be taken from all of this is the certain knowledge that unlike in most social situations, there's no reason to fear that someone's vanished because of something I said.
Unless I've unknowingly become a kabbalist mage capable of subconsciously reciting dangerous incantations. In which case I suppose I should be glad that I didn't read a book full of cursed lullabies, instead.
Mason-san. Good luck.
Koizumi, there's something I'd like you to check.
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