Adachi to Shimamura - Volume 99.9 - Chapter 6

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Chapter 6:

and

MNCH. MNCH. MNCH.

The sounds she made were highly unnatural, but oddly enough, they still conveyed how much she was enjoying herself. As she stood beside me, a donut in each hand, a flower of sheer delight was visibly blooming on her face.

Then again, flowers were blooming all over the place, since springtime was in full force—I could identify the season from the lukewarm exhaust of the cars passing on the street. We leaned side by side against a building, a soft breeze tickling our noses.

“What a day it has been!”

“Indeed…”

As I was wandering around town, Yashiro had suddenly turned up beside me, as she was wont to do. Today she wore a bird onesie; I gazed at her, trying to pinpoint the species, until at last, the word heron rose from the dusty encyclopedia of my memory.

Yashiro’s sense of sartorial coordination left something to be desired, though; in place of the onesie’s hood, she wore a yellow helmet. Well…perhaps “wearing” wasn’t quite accurate, since it appeared to merely rest atop her head. It looked fairly old, given the scuffs and grime, yet she wore it proudly over her luscious locks. Contrasted with her blue sparkle, the helmet’s poor condition almost seemed an intentional fashion choice.

My opinion of her attire aside, I couldn’t help noticing that she was awfully aggressive today, demanding not one but two donuts. She was normally willing to walk past the donut shop, but this time, she’d all but dragged me inside; now here we were.

“We had a deal.”

“I don’t remember that at all,” I told her.

“That sounds like a problem.”

Still, she moved on to her second donut with an enthusiasm that suggested that she wasn’t terribly concerned. Unlike her first, which had been chocolate, this one was custard-filled. I watched, chuckling, as her fingers turned sticky with sugar and oil. Yet the longer I looked at the hands poking out from her wingtips, the more surreal the sight seemed. Were her arms really that long, or did she extend and retract them as needed? It wasn’t like I’d never questioned these minute details, but I suspected the spring sunshine had put me in a more inquisitive mood.

Mmncccch!

The sound had changed slightly—in response to the new flavor, maybe? The more time Yashiro and I spent together, the more silly observations I found myself making.

“These sweet treats truly taste like destiny, do they not?”

“That’s destiny, all right.” My shoulders shook with a suppressed giggle. It was such a silly concept, but coming from her, it carried mysterious weight.

“It must be impossible for someone to feel angry while eating a donut.”

“Yeah…maybe.” If they tried scowling with a mouth full of custard, it would melt away pretty quick.

While she made her slurping sounds, I tried to think of what our “deal” might’ve been, but I hadn’t the faintest idea. Was she putting one over on me? Hmmm… I snuck a peek at her, but she looked happier than I’d ever seen, so I was tempted to shrug it off.

Her head was at the perfect height for me to reach out and slap a palm onto her helmet, causing a flurry of blue motes to rise up. I caught one on the tip of my index finger, but before I could examine it up close, a gust from a passing car whisked it away, and it vanished.

“Aren’t you hungry, Shimamura-san?”

“Oh, it’ll be dinnertime soon enough,” I replied after gauging the sky. The sun’s brightness had calmed a bit, the sinking vestige of spring blotting me and the wall behind me into an oil painting. As I took in the seasonal scene, I felt my throat get dry and sweat bead on the tip of my nose.

“I see.”

“You could offer me a bite, though.”

“Ha ha ha!”

“That wasn’t a joke.”

Was it just me, or was she slurping faster now? Little punk, I thought, watching her finish.

“Mmm. Nothing beats the taste of a promise.” Both hands now empty, she gleefully raised them skyward, opening and closing her fingers in scissorlike motions.

“Your face is a mess.” I ran a napkin over her lips, then wiped her hands while I was at it.

“Ho ho ho! I owe you.”

“I’m used to it by now.”

Her skin was so smooth that the donut crumbs came away with no resistance. She patted her stomach, then put her hands on her hips and let out a proud, satisfied sigh, her gaze pointing skyward. I followed suit but couldn’t see anything of interest, save for the falling flower petals. Could she see things invisible to the human eye, like a cat or a dog could?

“Well then, let us be on our way!”

Cheerfully waving her arms—er, wings—she toddled off down the street. With each step, her hair bounced, and my eyes followed the trail of blue particles she left in her wake. “Um…to where?” I asked, since she was headed in the opposite direction from my apartment and showed no sign of stopping.

“Somewhere nice,” she replied. At a distance, she stopped and turned back. “Care to join me, Shimamura-san?”

At that moment, as if on cue, the scent of cherry blossoms engulfed me. Petals and blue sparkles danced together on the breeze, spiraling wildly around her—and the beauty of it captivated me so much that I scarcely noticed how unnatural it was.

“Welllll…hmm. Somewhere nice, you say?” What sort of place could it possibly be, besides a bakery?

“A fun place!” The way she flapped her wings up and down, she looked very excited indeed. We surely weren’t going back to the donut shop, were we?

“Eh…okay. But only because I don’t have any other plans.”

The moment the words left my mouth, a thought struck me: Wait. Do I really not have plans? Something told me that I’d come into town for a reason, but my mind was hazy, like I was soaking up to my shoulders in the warm weather.

When I hurried up beside her, she met me with a soft, warm smile—one of pure, undiluted happiness without ulterior motive. It was the same smile she had maintained for the entirety of our friendship, and I liked that about her.

“Not sure where you’d find ‘fun’ in a town like this,” I remarked. All my life, I could never think of anywhere to go, which was why I’d always ended up at the mall.

“I would describe it as fun, and charming, and soothing, and nice, and dreamy, and quite aromatic, and I think you should visit.”

“Oh really…?” If Yashiro liked it that much, it could only be… “An all-you-can-eat cake buffet?”

“That would be wonderful.” Her tone was as light and springy as her gait—so giddy, in fact, I half-worried that she was about to get herself banned from the establishment. To her credit, though, it did sound fun.

We passed a handful of people on the street—old ladies on a walk, housewives pushing bicycles laden with grocery bags—and each time, they did a double take at the blue-haired alien. When she met their gaze, she’d greet them jovially, as if she were any other neighbor. Then again…maybe she was.

Although she didn’t blend in among other people, she looked right at home in the spring scenery. Given her sky-blue color palette, summer and winter would suit her too. Whenever she wasn’t stuffing her face, she was pretty, and pretty things had a way of fitting in just about anywhere.

We moved from the downtown district toward an area with more green hues. The modern buildings melted away in favor of farmland, with only the wide-open roads preserving the image of a town. As I walked, I glanced all around, wrestling with a strange sense of déjà vu. Some part of me seemed to have this confused with a different spot I’d spent a lot of time in.

“How far away is this place, anyway? I don’t want to be out too late.”

“Do not worry.”

That…didn’t seem like an answer to my question. I started to press the issue, but then a stream of flower petals passed in front of my face, as if to gently stop me. I reached out a hand and caught some on my palm. When I looked up again, I realized that the ground beyond the utility pole ahead was dyed pink with an entire carpet of the petals—far more than typically fell on a spring day. Looks like blossom-viewing season is nearly over, I thought.

My pace must’ve slowed while the petals distracted me, because Yashiro was now far ahead. She turned back and shouted, “What is the matter?”

“Oh, just the flowers.”

“The flowers?” she repeated, as petals fell onto her head.

“It smells like flowers.”

Where were all these petals coming from? Now that we were heading out of town, there were seemingly many more of them. Yashiro marched silently past the supermarket and gas station as if heading straight for the blossoms’ source, and I followed beside (or sometimes slightly behind) her.

After a while, we reached an embankment with a clear view of the river, the surface of which gleamed like a mirror. I shielded my eyes reflexively; once they’d adjusted, I gazed at the rocky riverbed, thinking of how it looked in summer and winter. It was the same landscape, yet rendered in completely different colors.

“Must you be so difficult, Shimamura-san?”

The unexpected critique made me scowl. “Huh? What’re you talking about?”

“Ho ho ho! On second thought, you might say this is part of our deal.”

She was clearly dodging the question, so I reached out and pinched her cheek. “What! Are! You! Talking! About?!”

“For the record, it is my first time here as well.”

“What? That can’t be true…can it?”

I glanced around, but everything looked perfectly familiar. We must’ve walked through this area together at least once before…possibly on the day of the festival all those years ago. Had she forgotten?

Yashiro eventually came to a stop in front of a plain-looking bridge that cut straight across the river. It was quiet here, with no sign of any cars approaching, and we had only the flower petals for company; it was almost like we were strolling through the silence of outer space, surrounded by falling stars. I couldn’t even hear the wind…yet the petals still danced in the air. Beckoning.

“Could I have a moment, Shimamura-san?”

“What’s up?”

The flow of the petals guided my gaze to Yashiro’s, her eyes twin glittering night skies. My reflection in them wore a school uniform and was tinged with a hint of the cosmos.

“From here, you must walk straight ahead.” As she spoke, her body retreated.

I beg your pardon? “More to the point, may I ask why you’re suddenly sliding backward?!”

She merely laughed that off. “Ho ho ho!”

This creature truly contained multitudes…and now those multitudes were slipping away from me.

“As promised, this is where I leave you. As promised, you must go straight forward.”

“What in the world is this about?” “Deal” this, “promise” that… I surely couldn’t have forgotten, yet somehow I couldn’t remember. Spring was a season of hibernation, so perhaps that was to blame.

“Go straight. All right?”

“All right, all right, I’ll play your silly game.” I knew Yashiro wasn’t a prankster, so I was willing to humor her on occasions like these. “Aren’t you coming to see this ‘fun place’ with me?”

“Oh, I have had lots of fun.”

Again, that wasn’t quite an answer…but some part of me didn’t mind. Maybe the disconnect in our conversation was my fault, not hers; I couldn’t prove that, but I could sense it.

Flower petals slowly filled the gap between us. I couldn’t feel anything here, not even the wind. Yet the petals were a sign that something was flowing. Something told me that I should keep moving too.

“Hey, Yashiro?”

“Yes?”

“Next time we meet, I’ll buy you more donuts, so…”

So come see me again. I knew that sugar was the perfect bait, but for some reason, I couldn’t voice the second half of my bargain. Fortunately, she seemed to intuit the unspoken part, because after a beat, she smiled.

“I will be there. You have my word.”

Oddly enough, I agreed, “Okay.”

She pulled off her helmet and tucked it safely into her onesie. Then she spread her “wings” as if they were real and took off running at a gallant clip, her braids bouncing like a butterfly flitting through the flowers. On a whim, I watched her tiny figure retreat into the distance at a brisk speed that almost made me feel…left behind.

“Oh, who am I kidding? I’m sure I’ll see her tomorrow.” Maybe the blossoms’ smell had just put me in a sentimental mood.

Once Yashiro had vanished from sight, I turned back to the bridge. I was apparently supposed to cross it and walk straight ahead, which didn’t sound hard. As for what awaited me in that direction—a hotel, as far as I could tell; mountains on the horizon; and an entire amusement park. So where was this “fun place” hidden?

With a sidelong glance at the river, I began to cross the bridge.

There were no cars or pedestrians. Only my shadow. Only my footsteps.

The petals began to fly in a wild flurry, blocking more and more of my vision. Each petal had a little cleft at the tip—what was the name of that flower again? I’d gotten so used to seeing them that I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. It was a common flower that colored the city every spring… A flower that blossomed for those who entered our lives, and those who left… A pale pink flower…

The petals had nearly engulfed me now. I reached toward them, and they swallowed my fingertips, traveled along my skin, and slipped past—reminiscent of a school of fish swimming close together to form the image of a bigger fish, like in a picture book. As the petals parted, I tried to peek through to the other side…and the next thing I knew, I heard the screech of cicadas.

Cicadas in spring?

Instinctively, I stopped short. Between blinks, I could see a familiar set of stairs; as my gaze traced up the wall on their left side, I combed tentatively through my memories. The petals and the cicadas’ screeching mingled together, and it was so incongruous that my head spun.

When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw that the river and bridge were nowhere to be seen. The hotel and mountains were gone too, leaving only the smell of dry earth from the athletic field. It was as though Yashiro had put me under a spell.

“Hmmm…”

Up the stairs… Yes, up the stairs and beyond the door…

The doorknob was so cold, it was as if springtime had ended abruptly. I twisted it, opened the door, and peered furtively at what lay beyond the cry of the cicadas. It was dim inside…and deserted.

“Wait a minute.” Wasn’t someone usually here?

Yes, that’s right. It was…er…

I ran my palm over the ping-pong table, which appeared to have been used recently. The faint stickiness prodded my memories until a handful stirred, like seeds sprouting up through the earth. Without waiting for them to finish growing, I reached out and touched them; they promptly withered and fell away.

My vision wavered as I hallucinated a pair of silhouettes sitting against the wall, as if hiding from the sun streaming through the window. Was I supposed to wait? I seemed to recall that someone used to come up here after me…or was I the one who came up after them? Either way, I was sure I used to meet someone here.

My skin recognized the pent-up heat and the feel of sweat dripping down my neck. The cicadas’ screaming weighed heavily on my skull. But…

“Go straight, she said. Straight forward.”

Directly ahead of me was a second, unused ping-pong table, then a wall. Would it end there, or…?

With small steps, I slowly worked my way forward, praying for something to happen as I approached the wall. If nothing changed, I would smack into it face-first, fall onto my back like a turtle and never be able to get up again. Come on! I inched closer and closer until the wall was an inch from my nose. Then I reached out and tried to give it a shove.

Suddenly, the wall disappeared, revealing new sights and sounds. The cicadas were now explosively loud; that noise was paired with the same bright-blue sky I’d seen in town. I’d arrived at my grandparents’ house in the countryside.

From a distance, I noticed a layer of flower petals on their roof. As far as I knew, I’d never been here in spring—only during summer and for New Year’s. My parents’ car wasn’t in the driveway, so I had a clear view of the dusty old doghouse with the little blue roof.

Then the front door opened and my grandparents walked out, chatting with each other. When they spotted me, they looked surprised and delighted in equal measure, inviting me to come inside. I nearly agreed. Then I saw the small figure waiting behind them and fought the urge to break into a run.

“Will you come in and visit for a while?” they asked gently.

Again, I was tempted to say yes—but then I thought I heard someone call my name. “Shiiimamuuura-saaan!”

A shower of pale petals fell between us.

“…No, I have somewhere else to be.”

Maybe if I’d stayed there, I would have felt true, genuine happiness, but…

“That’s all right,” they replied, letting me off after merely tousling my hair—sometimes taking turns, sometimes both ruffling it at once. My throat hitched, and I realized from the motions of my face what I must’ve looked like.

Instinctively, I crouched in front of the small dog weaving his way between my grandparents’ legs. Scooping him into my arms, I gave him a hug, burying my face against his fur. I didn’t say a word, but I heard a strange, beastly whimper leak out, like blood seeping from dry, cracked skin.

I felt him slipping out of my arms, so I released him and took a few steps forward. In a blink, the blue sky and fields were gone in a cloud of flower petals, replaced with the condo we’d chosen together. I had figured that this would be next.

Glancing around the bedroom, I waved at the seal and walrus plushies sitting in the corner. The sofa was so soft and comfortable, it threatened to draw me in, but I kicked it away and walked straight forward. Up ahead was a window, then a balcony, followed by nothing but sky, but even then, I didn’t hesitate.

Before I could register whether I was walking on solid ground, the scenery changed again. Gradually, awareness of where I was and what I was doing set in like a rising fever, and around the time I predicted I’d see a graveyard next, I realized that I was falling. In a blink, the sky slipped away.

A moment later, I could tell that my feet had landed on solid ground. The fuzzy feeling of déjà vu faded, and as my vision settled, my surroundings solidified. Having fallen down alongside me, flower petals danced in the air once more.

Now I was in a place that was utterly foreign to me. This wasn’t my hometown, nor the city where I’d gone to college, nor the neighborhood where our condo was, nor the district in which I’d worked, nor the grocery store parking lot, nor a vacation destination, nor the studio I’d ended up in.

I was in a crescent-shaped park. In front of me was a creatively colored slide: The ladder was green, the support beams were red, and the slide itself was yellow. Beyond the fence—so low, I wasn’t sure it actually served a purpose—lay an unfamiliar cityscape. This wasn’t the new world that I’d anticipated; still, it welcomed me peacefully.

Near the entrance, a sign stuck out of the ground, but its words were too faded to read. All I could make out was MURA.

Meanwhile, a massive tree occupied the center of the park, casting an equally massive shadow on the ground. Beside that tree fluttered flower petals, and the hair on someone’s head, and a skirt. I caught a whiff of a scent, and with it, I remembered something. The tip of my tongue quivered as I spoke the word aloud.

At last, I’d remembered the name of the flower dropping the petals.

“Took you long enough.”

The voice rose slowly through the petals, as if quietly taking wing, and I was elated to hear it after so long.

She was waiting for me there, dressed in the same uniform. Her voice bloomed like spring flowers—charming, soothing, nice, dreamy, and aromatic indeed. Meanwhile, my lips twisted into different shapes, distorting my voice into meaningless sounds as I fumbled for a joke—so awkwardly that I reminded myself of her so many years ago.

“…Yaaay, we’re both young now!”

She stared back at me, wide-eyed and a little flustered. “Um…yaaay,” she chimed in stiffly, raising both hands into the air.

The sight yanked my heart sky-high, and my body nearly went with it.

“We lucked out, huh?” I couldn’t help wondering which of us had made this happen—and how. “Maybe once we got old, we both started quietly wishing the other was young again?”

“Not me! I’ll always…l-love you no matter what you look like!”

“Oh yeah? Then you wouldn’t care if I turned back into a granny right now?”

A deep silence followed, and I could only assume that she was seriously considering the possibility. My eyes grew warm at the sincerity of it.

By the time the fallen petals had nearly buried our feet, a bashful voice came fluttering out: “Um…I’d like the younger version, please.”

“I knew it! Same here, though!”

When I burst out laughing, she looked up at the sound and smiled in relief. For a moment we stood there smiling at each other. I felt my eyes and throat quiver.

“Reunited at last, huh?”

I couldn’t tell who’d said it aloud, but our feelings were the same, so there was no difference either way.

“As promised…”

The voices, the words—everything we shared made me so giddy. I was glad now that I hadn’t stopped at any of those other places; however long I’d waited, she wouldn’t have come. Besides, I didn’t need to see her in my memories, anyway.