Brave Story - Miyuki Miyabe [7]
Then the voice spoke again.
“You will be able to leave tonight. Rest up while you can.”
Wataru scanned the room. Everything seemed to be in its right place: the bed with its blue-checked comforter, his bookcase filled with reference books and comic books, and his video game console next to the television set. The carpet was depressed where the casters on his chair had sunk in, and the slippers he had been wearing were tossed haphazardly on the floor behind his desk.
There was no one else in the room. Wataru was alone.
“You can’t find me by looking, you know.” The girl’s voice rang in his head. “Not yet.”
His heart raced. He felt his blood pumping. He imagined his heart throbbing like Pac-Man, gobbling his way through his maze.
“Wh-who’s there?” Wataru stammered. Here he was in his familiar room with its familiar, slightly dusty smell, talking to no one. His voice sounded like a whisper. This was ridiculous. It was stupid to hear voices in his head, and even stupider to try to talk to them. Still, it felt less embarrassing somehow if he talked really quietly.
“Who could it be, I wonder?” the voice said mischievously. “Never mind that now, you should go to bed. If you’re going out to play tonight, you’ll need your rest. You’ll be late for school tomorrow!”
Several possible courses of action occurred to Wataru in an instant. He chose the most childlsh of them all. He ran out of the room.
“Wataru? Is something the matter?” Kuniko looked up from where she sat peeling an apple at the kitchen table. “Want a slice? Here, have one, brush your teeth, and then it’s bedtime.”
Wataru suddenly felt weak. He leaned back against the wall.
“My, you don’t look well at all,” Kuniko said, putting down the knife, then she tilted her head to one side and looked at him closely. “That reminds me, you had a cough this morning, didn’t you? Have you caught a cold?”
Wataru didn’t answer, so his mother stood up and walked over to him. The skin of her hand was cold and soft on his forehead.
“You don’t seem to have a fever…have you been sweating? Do you feel ill?”
Coming to his senses at last, Wataru muttered something about it being a fine and good night. Still floating, he went back into his room, shut the door and leaned against it. He heard the sound of knocking.
“Wataru? What is it? Are you sure you’re okay? Wataru!”
“I-I’m fine, Mom. I feel fine,” Wataru said, slowly regaining his composure. Thinking of a way to explain what was happening to his mother made him feel even more lost and confused. Finally, the knocking stopped. He moved away from the door and flopped down on his bed. His breathing was shallow, his pulse was racing, and his eyes spun in his head.
“You poor thing,” the girl’s voice said. “I’m awfully sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Wataru slapped both hands over his ears and screwed his eyes shut. He willed his mind to go blank, to slip into unconsciousness. And, though he hadn’t imagined he would be capable, he fell asleep. When he woke it felt like he was leaping out of darkness. The alarm clock next to his bed said it was ten minutes to midnight. Wataru shot up in bed, wide awake. He had been sweating when he fell asleep in his clothes, and now they felt itchy and cold.
Quietly, he opened the door to his room, and peered out into the kitchen. The television was on, tuned to some late-night news program his mother often watched. But tonight, she was asleep, her arms sprawled on the kitchen table, lightly snoring.
Katchan was first to arrive at the meeting place, the entrance to a park just south of the haunted building. Katchan always tended to be early, probably a habit he picked up from helping out at the bar.
“S-sorry, I’m l-late,” Wataru said, panting to catch his breath. Normally a little running wouldn’t make him breathe this hard, but he was still excited by the events of the evening.
“Your mom sounded pretty fierce on the phone.