Brave Story - Miyuki Miyabe [64]
“Hey! Trying to give me the slip, are you? You still snoring there, sleepyhead?!”
It was Katchan. Wataru stopped. It seemed like forever since he had last seen his friend. Ten, twenty years, was it?
“Hey man, you’ve been totally out of it all day,” said Katchan, jogging up to him. “What’s up? You get your hands on a demo version of Saga III or something?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
“Huh, too bad. Hey, you should come over after lunch! My dad was out playing pachinko, and he got this soccer game as a prize. I tried it, and it’s totally addictive. You wanna play?”
Wataru looked at his friend’s smiling face in silence. He couldn’t think of anything to say. All he could think of was how nice it would be if he were Katchan. I want to be you.
“Hey! Why are you looking at me like that? Whoa, there something on my face?” Katchan began swiping at his face with his fingers.
“No,” Wataru shook his head. “Sorry, I can’t play today.”
Katchan noticed something was wrong. His searching eyes stopped a moment. “What is it, Wataru?”
“It’s nothing, really.”
“You got a cold? Stomach bug, or something? Or maybe…the plague?!”
“No, I’m fine.”
Katchan stared into Wataru’s face a moment. “Something’s wrong, that’s for sure.”
“Nothing’s wrong, really.” Wataru smiled a thin smile.
Katchan stepped back. “Well, guess I’ll be going home then.”
“Okay.”
“If, uh, something comes up, you give me a call, ’kay?”
“Okay.”
“I’ll be home the whole time.”
“Right.”
“Okay, bye!”
Katchan ran off, pausing occasionally to look back. Wataru resumed walking only after he lost sight of his friend. Other kids who took the same route home passed him by. He walked on slowly. Soon, he was alone, like he had been that morning.
Wataru found himself standing in front of the haunted building. It looked the same as always, blue plastic tarps shining in the afternoon sun. Mr. Daimatsu had promised to beef up security on the building, but nothing seemed different today.
Wataru thought back on what he’d experienced beyond the gate. Oddly, the details of his adventure were getting fuzzy. That big red bird—what was it called again? His memory was fading like an old photograph. It seemed flat, less vivid. What was happening?
“Wataru…”
Hearing his name being called snapped Wataru back into reality. Who’s there?
It was Mitsuru. He was staring at him from beneath the red torii gate of the Mihashi Shrine. He waved for him to follow, and walked into the shrine grounds. Wataru was exhausted, but as soon as he saw Mitsuru, he remembered the scene by the gate.
What are you doing here?
He ran after the other boy like he had the day before. Mitsuru didn’t even look back to see if he was following. “Sit,” he said curtly, pointing to one of the shrine benches. Wataru did as he was told. He sat where Mitsuru had been sitting when they had first met at the shrine, days before.
From this vantage point, the shrine interior seemed somehow different. He had looked in countless times as he passed by the front gate, he had even sat right in this spot the other day, but he was sure he had never seen this shrine before. It was quiet here, a little world, surrounded by green. Even the old roof tiles of the main shrine, spotted by plaster filling in cracks here and there looked different. It had always seemed shabby before, but now he felt like he had come to some unknown place in a faraway land.
“Enjoying the view?” Mitsuru said, standing ahead of him, his arms crossed on his chest. “This is sacred ground.”
“Sacred ground?”
“A place where the gods reside,” Mitsuru said stiffly. His voice was harsh, his expression severe. Even the priest who ran the shrine never looked so serious, Wataru thought. A short and cheerful man, he always looked after the younger kids. He would emerge from the shrine every afternoon holding a yellow flag. He wanted to make sure cars would stop for the children crossing the street. He never would have talked about the gods without a generous smile.
Mitsuru