Brave Story - Miyuki Miyabe [74]
“Come to think of it,” Katchan said, a little too loudly, “You go to cram school with that Mitsuru kid, right? Did you hear what they were saying?”
Wataru picked up the change in topic with relief. “What about him? He take another ghost picture or something?”
“Heheh. You haven’t heard!”
It turned out he didn’t grow up in America at all.
“The story goes that his uncle or something works at a computer company, and got transferred to some place in America—some place no one had ever heard of. Nothing famous like New York.”
All Mitsuru had done was visit his uncle for a year before transferring to their school. He was born and raised in Kawasaki.
“No way!”
“But he speaks English pretty good, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah. It wouldn’t take long in America to get better than us, that’s for sure.”
Knowing Mitsuru, he hadn’t been the one to start the rumor about him growing up in the States—in fact, he was most likely the one who had set the record straight. That the truth had come out now was more a testament to how well Mitsuru was getting along with his classmates. The less people knew about someone, the bigger the rumors tended to get.
Something occurred to Wataru. “I wonder why he was living with his uncle for so long? Maybe something was going on with his family?” Given his current circumstances, it seemed like a rational thing to think. Maybe that was the reason Mitsuru was so odd. And why he could be scary sometimes…
“So you don’t hang with Mitsuru much?”
“Not at all,” Wataru said quickly. “We talked a few times, but…he’s weird. Kind of stuck up.”
The conversation at the shrine—he remembered having talked to Mitsuru at length, but for some odd reason he couldn’t remember a single detail of what they had said.
Memories of Vision had disappeared from Wataru’s mind. The wizard, the door, Mitsuru running—he had completely forgotten the dire warnings to stay away from the haunted building. He had even forgotten about Mitsuru’s threats. In fact, his interest in Mitsuru had waned considerably.
“Maybe he’s got issues,” Katchan said, gripping the controller. “I hear no one’s ever been over to his house to play or anything.”
Wataru picked up the second player controller. “Maybe he’s not as popular as we thought?”
“He gets along with Yutaro fine. But I don’t think he’s been over to his house, either.”
“Where do you hear all this from, Katchan?”
“Sakuma told me. He’s in with the girls in class.”
“Running-mouth Sakuma? Biggest yapper in school?”
“He wanted to get in with Mitsuru real bad when he first came to school, but Mitsuru wouldn’t give him the time of day, so he lurked in the new kid’s shadow and listened. You know, like a private eye.”
“More like a stalker.”
“I wonder what’s up with Kenji’s gang? Think they’re still after that ghost picture? Remember when they surrounded Mitsuru in the library?”
Wataru’s memory shuffled briefly, and the scene in the library on that rainy day came into focus. Those eyes fixing on Wataru through the window.
How did he get Kenji and his goons to back off, anyway?
Questions began to bubble up in Wataru’s mind like boiling water on the stove—questions he hadn’t even thought about asking until now, victims of that strange gap in his memory.
Wataru hadn’t noticed anything was missing. The grim reality of his life had risen like a shroud over his brain. When he wasn’t looking his memories had begun to slip away.
Vision was getting further away.
“Guess what? I can do the midair combo off the crimson lotus tri-kick now! Wanna see?” Katchan grinned.
“Of course I want to see! Are you kidding?”
“I kid you not, my friend. Check it out!”
The sun set while they played.
Wataru went straight to Katchan’s house after classes let out the following day. Katchan’s parents were busy getting the bar ready for the evening, and the phone on the second floor was available.
Katchan’s number worked like he said it would. When he called, Akira was at his desk. The call went right through.
Wataru took the offered