Brave Story - Miyuki Miyabe [209]
“You should go home,” Yacom said, a slight smile playing across his lips. “Go home and ask your dad. Ask him which one of us is right—you or me. He’ll say I’m wrong, of course. But, boy, he is lying. It’s not the truth. It’s not what he really thinks. If he had to make a decision that would affect his entire life, the only life he gets, he’d come to the same conclusion as I have. You’d be abandoned. And what of it? He gave you your life. You should be grateful for that. And if he wants to throw you out, well, you’ll just have to live with it, won’t you?”
Everything went black.
Chapter 24
A Vision of Death
Falling. Pulled backward. Crashing into the ground straight as a board, looking up at the sky. Standing at the edge of the water, feeling the sand underneath your feet being washed away by the waves—that’s what it feels like. Falling, falling, falling…
But Wataru didn’t fall.
He watched himself split into two.
A translucent Wataru stepped out of his body, like a soul leaving its earthly shell. The soul-Wataru stepped out on the muddy lake, turned and looked back, and smiled knowingly.
Wataru didn’t move. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He was paralyzed, unable to move a single finger.
It was the mud.
The mud that splashed against his cheek—its poison has begun to work on me. That’s why I’m paralyzed. And the Wataru standing in front of me, that’s an illusion, a phantom. The poison is making me see things.
The phantom took a step toward Yacom. Then, smoothly, it drew the Brave’s Sword.
Yacom was sitting in the mud, face twisted with fear. He was shouting something at it.
The ghostly Wataru raised his sword. Yacom covered his face with his own wounded arm. He began screaming for his life.
—No. I wouldn’t do that.
The sword shone in the phantom’s hands, its edge gleaming.
I don’t want to kill Yacom I don’t want to kill Dad I don’t hate Dad this isn’t my dad this isn’t me—
Then the Brave’s Sword swung down.
One stroke, two. Yacom screamed, crawling away on all fours. The blade stuck into his back. In vain, he tried to wrest the sword away from the Wataru apparition. The sharp edge cut into his palm.
Yacom was covered in mud, his face streaked with his own blood. He trembled in fear and could barely move—yet still he tried to escape. The phantom grabbed him by the collar, and put the sword to his neck.
No!
The Brave’s Sword broke flesh and blood shot out like a fountain, splashing on the phantom’s shirt. Yacom groped desperately for some salvation, but none came. His arm dropped back down to the ground and did not move again.
The specter drew the sword from Yacom’s body. He gave it an expert flick, and blood sprayed from the blade. Casually, the sword was resheathed, and Wataru’s supernatural twin gave the corpse a swift kick in the side.
With another kick, Yacom’s body rolled deeper into the shallows. The lake water seeped into Yacom’s clothes, and finally, the weight dragged him down toward the bottom of the swamp.
The dorsal fin of a kalon broke the water’s surface. Wataru stood paralyzed as before, frozen to his core with fear. The kalon traced a wide arc around the spot where the corpse sank. A tailfin like a great scythe lifted from the water and slapped at the surface of the lake. The great fish disappeared into the watery depths, leaving an evil silvery afterimage on Wataru’s retinas.
The boy’s phantom was observing him, a kind smile on his face. Wataru wanted to shake his head, but he couldn’t move. He wanted to shout, What have you done? but he had no voice.
Still smiling, the apparition turned his back and began to walk away. Wataru found himself following. Even though his legs couldn’t move, even though he couldn’t walk, he was following. It was almost as if Wataru were the ghost, immaterial, floating through the air.
Where are we going? Wataru’s doppelgänger walked steadily forward. His feet squished down in the muck of the swamp, and his head bowed.
Eventually, Lili Yannu’s hut came into view. The phantom Wataru walked toward it. He opened the door without knocking