I looked up at the canopy.
Suito Kusanagi’s face was there. I see she’s on this plane. She turned to me downward and smiled.
“Kusanagi,” I murmured.
I knew, of course, she has been here. I walked around the main wing and returned to the front of the aircraft. Then I tried to get on the wing from the leading edge. But Sagara grabbed me by the arm.
“Hey, you have just uttered the name now.” She was staring fixedly at me. “Recall the memory. Who are you?”
I’m not sure.
I took my eyes off from her and looked up at the canopy again. I could not see Kusanagi’s face. Is she hiding inside the cockpit? Why isn’t she showing up?
“Please. Let me go up there.” I asked Sagara for permission, because she was still holding my arm.
“No, that’s not permitted.”
“Let me at least get on the main wing.”
“Do you know which part of the wing you may stand?”
“Of course.”
Every pilot knows that.
She sighed and nodded.
“Calm down. Don’t do anything rash.”
“Thank you.”
I got on the main wing and peeked into the cockpit.
A seat, a belt, a control stick, many gauges on the panel, switches, indicators, and a throttle lever.
No one was there.
Why is she not here?
Was it an illusion?
I looked around.
There was no one except for her, who was looking up at me with a worried look on her face.
I felt dizzy.
Suddenly, it was hard even to stand still.
But I consciously maintained my equilibrium and got off from the main wing.
I ducked under the airframe and touched the drop tank.
It was chilly.
I wanted to apply my cheek on it.
It was so smooth that just touching it seemed to take away a part of me. I felt as if a portion of my feelings was stolen as well. Still, I could not get away from the surface.
I brought my cheek close to the cold metal.
I closed my eyes.
In an instant, the blue sky spread in front of me.
I looked to my left and right.
It was clear.
I am the only one here.
In the cockpit.
I looked back.
The propeller was rotating.
Then, I finally heard the sound, and felt a delayed vibration in my body. I clenched my right fist, in which the control stick was. In my left hand was the grip of the throttle lever. Both of my feet were lightly touching the rudder pedals. My body was cradled in the seat. My goggles and mask reminded me of breathing.
This is the aircraft.
My aircraft.
With it, I can charge around in the sky.
I can fly around.
I laughed.
From within my body, I felt the emotion welling up.
I can’t believe I’m flying again.
How splendid.
How fortunate.
I shook the control stick from side to side.
After just a little bit of delay, the world turned around.
Everything was following me.
I was not touching anywhere.
I was not supported by anything.
I’m free.
Everything was irrelevant to me.
I am what I am, and I am irrelevant to anyone but myself.
Why can’t such a simple thing be allowed?
Why can’t such a pure thing be allowed?
I’m being avoided.
I’m being kept away.
I’m being rejected.
I’m being envied.
I’m being despised.
I’m being feared.
I’m being hated.
I’m being detested.
Why do they impose their love on those who are not what they are?
Is it to make them believe that it is love?
If it is true love, then they don’t have to make others believe it.
Am I wrong?
Ah, people are all so stupid.
Look at the beauty of this plane.
Take a look at the wings.
Everything is ugly compared to these.
Love is just a thing like rust.
It was just that the rust itself wanted to think it is a beautiful activity.
They don’t know the beauty.
They don’t see anything.
Beauty is what this coldness is.
I’m impressed by how nostalgic it is.
My throat convulsed, and my breath quivered.
I opened my eyes, and tears welled up.
The metal had gotten wet. I carefully wiped it with my cuff.
But I could not stop shedding tears.
Oh ..., I’m weeping.
Although I’m not feeling sad, I’m crying.
Maybe it’s because of the beauty.
It is so beautiful that I am shedding tears.
Is there any other existence in the world that is so beautiful to this extent?
I looked at my ugly face that was reflected dimly on the curved surface of the airframe.
I wonder why human beings are so ugly.
But, that’s not the reason why I’m weeping.
No matter how pitiful or how miserable I feel, I never shed tears.
My tears come out only when I am touched by sublime beauty.
“Are you okay?” I heard a woman’s voice.
I found myself kneeling. I looked back at the woman. I had a feeling that the woman was Suito Kusanagi. But that was not the case. After letting out a sigh, I stood up.
“Are you weeping?” She asked.
I said nothing. I did not see the point in answering that question.
“Did you recall anything?”
“I have once piloted this aircraft.”
“This aircraft?”
“I mean, the very same airframe.”
“How can you tell so?”
“I just can.”
“From what characteristics?”
“It is the same as being able to recognize a person’s face.”
“Is this exactly the same model?”
“There are various models. The first model had machine guns mounted in the main wings. This model was developed after that type. The machine guns were shifted to the nose, and the wings became thinner. Therefore, the roll maneuvers got lighter and the speed was improved.”
“What is the name of this aircraft?”
“Did I not say that earlier?”
“So, say that again.”
I could not recall the name. But I knew this airframe well. I remembered the fact. I could generate the images of the engine inside the cowling, the cylinder heads, and even the springs in the cam covers. I knew the engine sound, the carburetor sound, and the vibration sound from the stabilizer during the dive. I could recall their smell. I could sense the thick exhaust air, the burning smell of gaining the altitude, and the exhaust color that the oil and humidity would affect.
In short, I remembered all of what I saw, heard, and smelt. What I could not memorize were words. Especially, I could not recall any name. I wondered why.
I felt that my relationship with this aircraft was solid and certain, even if I could not remember its name. I don’t have to call out its name to fly the aircraft.
This is also true of myself. I can live my life without people calling my name. Especially once I’m up in the sky, no one will call me by my name. I don’t need a name.
The woman in front of me touched my shoulder.
“Don’t worry. You can recall the memories someday.”
Apparently, I was comforted by her, probably because of my tears. I was not weeping because I was feeling sad. I did not have to recall them.
-2-