“…So that’s what it said. What do you think?” I asked Boogiepop. It was the next day after school, and we were both on the roof again.
“A suppressed possibility? Hmm… Not a bad explanation, I suppose.”
Miyashita had not been in class, so I’d swung by the roof on the off chance he was around. It seemed as though he took over the moment classes ended.
“However, in my case, I am not one of Miyashita Touka’s other possibilities.”
“Then what are you?”
“Good question. This world’s…?” he said quite naturally.
For a moment, I couldn’t grasp his meaning. It felt as though he hadn’t finished his sentence, but, instead, had just let it trail off. This world’s…? This world’s what?
Ignoring my blank look, he forged on, “I have no autonomy. I have no idea what Miyashita Touka might be thinking. She may well have some possibility, some hidden desire that produced me. But that has nothing to do with me. I have no dreams. I have only my duty. I am here only to carry out my purpose.”
“To save mankind?”
“Yes.”
“Why you?”
“I do not know. I would like to,” Boogiepop sighed, staring up at the sky above.
Not looking at me, he continued, “So you wish to ‘cure’ me, then?”
I jumped. Of course, part of me did want to. Miyashita Touka was my girlfriend. But I also felt it wasn’t something that I had to do.
“Mm, no… I dunno.”
I wasn’t making a guarded answer to keep an eye on his reaction; I was genuinely not sure any more. It didn’t seem like his presence was hurting anyone. Touka herself remained blissfully unaware.
(Only thing it actually interferes with is our dates.)
“I admit it would be better if I did not exist. If only there were no need for me…”
His profile was exactly like that of the girl I loved, and it looked somehow forlorn, so without thinking, I blurted out, “It must be hard for you…”
Not exactly the way you react to the ravings of a delusional multiple personality, I admit.
“Well, I’m hardly ever here, so…”
I’d thought he might be angered by my awkward attempt at sympathy, but he responded quietly. Not crazy at all.
The two of us looked up at the sky. It was cloudy. This time, there was no beautiful sunset…only darkness. There was a chill in the air, and it seemed as though a cold rain might start to fall at any second. It was the kind of day that dampens your spirit.
“Can I ask you something?”
“What’s that?”
“The first time I saw you, what did you say to that homeless guy?”
“Nothing important.”
“How did you make him stop crying?”
“I just gave him the encouragement he needed. Every person needs help when they’re suffering.”
“He needed help? How did you know?”
“He was crying. You could tell he was suffering just by looking at him,” he said plainly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“But—but…” I sputtered, then sighed. “The rest of us ordinary people can’t understand that way of thinking.” Even as I said it, I felt pathetic.
“You’re a good man,” Boogiepop suddenly said.
“Huh?”
“I think I know what Miyashita Touka sees in you.”
“Please don’t say things like that with her face. When I meet her tomorrow, I won’t know what to do…” I said, realizing that this meant I had completely accepted Boogiepop as an independent existence.
Boogiepop made a strange expression. Beneath the low brim of his hat, his left eye narrowed and the right side of his mouth twisted upwards. It was a very asymmetrical expression that Touka herself would never make.
“Don’t worry. I am me, and she is herself.”
Later, I wondered if that expression was a strained sort of grin, but at the time, it baffled me. It was a sort of grin that seemed both sarcastic and somewhat diabolical at the same time.
I never did see him smile, though.
✦ ✦ ✦
4.
After that, it became routine to join Boogiepop on the roof every day as he “kept watch.”
“I’m not really part of my class anymore,” I complained to him.
“You aren’t taking exams?”
“No, my father knows someone who owns a design firm, so I’ve been working there part time. He said that I had good sense and that I shouldn’t bother with college. That I’d be better off just starting to work for him directly.”
“The boss’ favorite craftsman, then.”
Touka had once said, “Are you sure? Sounds risky to me…” but Boogiepop sounded impressed.
Happily, I enthused, “Exactly, a craftsman. That’s what a designer is, really. We make what we’ve been asked to make.”
“Seems like you’ve got both feet on the ground,” Boogiepop said, sounding almost jealous. He lived half in some unearthly realm that only he could see.
“But Miyashita thinks it sounds dangerous.”
“She would. I don’t know her all that well, but there are far more girls who shun romantic men than there are those who are attracted to them.”
“Really? I mean, romantic?” It was an embarrassing word.
“I have no such hopes, but I believe humans need some sort of dream. Am I wrong?” Boogiepop always looked especially serious when he said things like this.
“I dunno,” I muttered.
“When you have no dream, when you can’t imagine a future, that means something in this world is flawed. Unfortunately, it is not I who will battle that flaw, but you and Miyashita Touka,” the self-described defender of the world said, staring into the distance.
Based only on his words, and on his outfit, it was impossible to think of him as anything, but a clown. After all, he had a woman’s face, but he talked like a man.
But if he was a clown, then I wanted to be a clown, too.