Brave Story - Miyuki Miyabe [372]
“So you don’t like how I look, do you. And I thought you liked her! She’s been in your heart all this time.”
Was that true? Have I been thinking about Kaori? Me? Wataru didn’t think he had been. He had forgotten her—or was it merely that he hadn’t been conscious of his own thoughts.
“A stolen, innocent soul,” the girl said. “Unfairly injured, the victim of a twisted fate. Yes, just like you.”
Is that why she had been in his heart?
Wataru braced, steadying his breath. He had figured out one thing: no matter who this mysterious voice was, no matter how closely she could read his heart or how sweetly she smiled, she was no friend.
“I’ll ask you again,” Wataru said, his voice gaining confidence. “What do you want? Are you going to tell me to kill the Goddess again? Who are you?”
The girl wrapped her arms around her shoulders as if to fend off a cold breeze. A thin smile still clung to her face. “You want to know who I am?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“You’re absolutely sure you want to know?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then you have to promise me something,” she said, her black eyes blazing. “Promise you won’t hate me when you see my true form. Promise you won’t push me away when you see me as I truly am.” Her tone made the words sound like less of a plea and more of a threat.
She didn’t wait for Wataru to respond. Suddenly her body began to shrink rapidly. Wataru stared. Where Kaori had stood only moments before, now there was only a small, warped shadow on the floor. Then a slick, black arm came out of the shadow. It was thick and round as a log. A hand like a large fan groped in the air, first to the right, then the left. It was no human hand—though it bore some some similarities. Another arm followed, and together they clutched at the floor, pulling.
“My face…” A large head emerged from the shadows.
Wataru gasped and took a step back.
“My true face. Does it not please you?” Only the sweet voice remained the same. But the mouth was that of a giant bullfrog. Giant lips flapped in the cool air of the tower. Eyes the size of basketballs protruded from its forehead. Ugly warts dotted its forest-green hide.
“Well? Tell me.” As it spoke, the frog worked its arms, pulling the rest of its body out of the shadow. A thick hind leg slapped wetly against the floor. There was something oddly familiar in the pattern on its skin. It was like a wallpaper print covered with the moving, writhing figures of…
The winged skeletal demonkin. Miniature demonkin writhed all over the skin of the giant bullfrog.
So this is my fairy.
“You seem surprised, dear little Wataru,” the frog said, the loose flaps of skin at its throat trembling as it spoke. “Yet this is only what you asked for. This is the truth you dragged out of me. Look well, Wataru. For this is how I truly am.”
“Who are…”
“Did Wayfinder Lau not tell you? Do you not know of me? Yes, the very same misfortune you bore in the real world, the same sadness, I have borne here in Vision. My name is Onba.” A dark, heavy croaking sound joined the voice of the little girl, making every word a discordant harmony in two parts. “I am the manifestation of all that is ugly, all that is unwanted, all that was cut away as unnecessary by the Goddess at the time Vision was made. I am the darkness where there is light, the negative pole.”
The manifestation of everything unwanted…
“My sweet, young Traveler. You who have come this far know the meaning of unwanted. What is unwanted is everything that does not meet the hopes and desires of this world, that falls short of its dreams. It is ugliness where beauty is sought, misfortune where happiness is desired, injustice where justice must be done. All the anger and greed and regret for what might have been—that is me.”
Wataru stepped slowly backward, shaking his head, feeling Onba’s giant eyes burning into him. “No, I don’t understand.”
“But you must!” The thick, gravelly voice gained strength, dominating the familiar voice of the girl. That’s what she really sounds like. “Pitiful