Brave Story - Miyuki Miyabe [34]
“What?” Wataru’s brow furrowed. What is it this time?
“Your pictures. They’re right in front of your feet.”
He was right. The tip of Wataru’s right shoe was already stepping on the corner of one of the zoo pictures. He looked down at it. Wataru and his mother were smiling and standing in front of the elephant cage. A zookeeper had just given the elephant an apple.
“I didn’t take a picture of a ghost,” said Mitsuru as Wataru squatted down to retrieve his photographs from the gravel. It was as though he had been waiting for Wataru to look away to speak. “I took a blurry picture of an azalea. Everyone freaked out and got excited because it’s more fun that way. That’s all.”
“But you said …”
“I said people shouldn’t make a fuss about such things. You agreed with me, didn’t you? I heard you say so just now.” Mitsuru looked a little angry now. His eyes gleamed. “You know, if that’s the way you really feel, it’s a little weird trying to take pictures of a fairy. Pretty hypocritical.”
Now it felt like he was being scolded.
“Look, I know it sounds strange, but I swear I heard a girl’s voice and there was nobody around but me.” Wataru raised his voice to be more assertive, but it seemed like every sentence came out weaker than the next.
“Like I said, you were dreaming. I wouldn’t waste my time taking any more pictures, if I were you,” Mitsuru said, cocking his head slightly. “You say people shouldn’t make a fuss, and here you are making a fuss all on your own. You’re kind of contradicting yourself, don’t you think?”
Wataru wracked his brain for a choice retort. He knew he had to come up with something soon, or he felt like he might burst into tears. Quite suddenly he felt a need to use the bathroom.
What was with this boy? Talking to him was like talking to an adult, but worse.
“If you ask me, there’s a much bigger problem here than a missing fairy,” Mitsuru said, his voice perfectly measured.
Wataru carefully blinked to keep the tears back. His eyes searched Mitsuru’s face. “What kind of problem?”
“That depends on your point of view,” Mitsuru replied calmly. He raised his book vertically, nestled a bookmark in between the pages, and slammed it shut. Then he tucked the hefty tome under his arm and stood up. A chill went down Wataru’s spine. Is our conversation going to end like this?
“You’re saying I have a problem?”
“I don’t recall saying that.”
“Yes, you did!” Wataru shouted. Once again he felt like crying. Now I’m angry.
Mitsuru cocked his head again, studying Wataru as if he were preparing to dissect some strange creature. “Do you have a father?” he asked, neither his eyes nor his expression changing in the slightest. Only his lips moved.
“What?” Wataru replied in shock.
“A father. Do you have one?”
“O-of course I do!”
Mitsuru blinked. “Does he like having his picture taken?” Mitsuru’s questions were getting weirder and weirder.
“What do you care?”
Mitsuru indicated the pictures in Wataru’s hands with a jut of his smoothly cleft chin. “Those pictures—your dad’s not in a single one.”
Wataru looked down. He hadn’t noticed if he was or wasn’t.
“Check them out yourself after you go home, or you can take my word for it: he’s nowhere to be seen. They’re all of you and your mom.”
Wataru said the first thing that came to mind. “So my dad likes taking pictures. That’s all.”
“Sure,” Mitsuru said smugly, “if you say so.” No sooner had the words left his mouth than Mitsuru turned and began walking away. Wataru stood in silence until Mitsuru reached the shrine’s red torii gate. He wasn’t done with this conversation by far, but Mitsuru kept walking.
“What’s your problem?” Wataru called after him. “Why do you have to act like such a jerk?”
Mitsuru disappeared down the street without slowing down. Silence descended over the shrine grounds. Somewhere, a bird began to chirp.
Who does that guy think he is?
Wataru was exhausted. Holding the pictures carefully, he walked back to the bench Mitsuru