“Yeah.” Yutaro looked over the fence, and turned toward his sister. Then he stopped and turned back. “The moms at school, they talk too much,” he said quickly, as though he was in a rush to get the words out before he changed his mind.
“Huh?”
“There was a PTA meeting before summer break, and this one older lady there loves spreading rumors, and she told my mom…”
Wataru already knew what Yutaro was going to say. For a second, he was afraid that news of his mother’s suicide attempt had already made the rounds, but that would have been much too fast. No, Yutaro’s mom had doubtlessly heard about the events leading up to that. A couple of kids in Wataru’s grade lived in the same apartment complex. They had probably heard something, or the families heard something, and word had gotten around.
Grandma was shouting pretty loudly that night.
“Things are pretty rough at your place, I guess?”
“Yeah.” Wataru nodded. Yutaro was as safe a person to talk to about this as anybody. And somewhere along the line, Wataru found he had the strength to talk about it without getting too weepy.
“I know what it’s like,” Yutaro said, rubbing his lip. “My dad’s remarried. Takes a while for things to settle down.”
Behind him, his little sister had stopped crying. She and her brother were crouching down by the morning glory patch, digging up something in the soil.
“It was…tough, when it happened.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Yutaro smiled. “But it got better. I like my brother and sister too. Just wish they were a little quieter.”
Now his little brother started crying. His sister was hitting him over the head with the red watering can.
“Yeah,” Wataru said. He felt his throat tighten and couldn’t say any more.
“So, anyway,” Yutaro said, sounding a bit unsure himself. “I guess I, well, you know…” He didn’t know what to say either, but his eyes told Wataru enough. Hang in there.
“Yeah.”
“Yutaroooooo!”
Now both of the kids were crying. Yutaro gave an exaggerated sigh, but he was smiling when he turned around to run back to them.
I wonder how many morning glories there were after all?
On the way back home, Wataru’s mind was a blank. He thought of nothing. In his head, there was only a question mark where the face of Mitsuru Ashikawa had been, and in his chest, a lingering feeling of relief from his talk with Yutaro.
He wasn’t even paying attention to where he was going, when he saw Katchan walking toward him on the other side of the street. He was wearing a pass to the municipal pool around his neck and yawning. It took him a moment to recognize his friend.
“Oooooornin’.” Katchan waved to Wataru, not even bothering to stifle his yawn.
Wataru stopped, frozen in place, staring at Katchan.
Say, Katchan, you remember that exchange student, Mitsuru Ashikawa?
“What’re you doing out here this early in the morning? I know that you didn’t come from the pool, I was just there!”
“Gotcha.”
“What?” Katchan craned his neck, looking at Wataru. If this early rising was to become a trend, Katchan clearly did not approve.
“Thanks for freeing those birds for me.”
“Huh?”
Seeing his expression, it was clear that Katchan didn’t know anything about the birds. He never got them, and he never set them free.
“Nothing,” Wataru said with a laugh. “Forget about it.”
“You look scruffy, man. In fact, you look like you haven’t slept a wink.” Before Wataru could respond he could see Katchan’s brain begin to work double time. “Wait…” now he looked worried. “I hope nothing happened at home, with your old man?”
Wataru knew he couldn’t hide the truth from Katchan, but there didn’t seem to be any point in telling him the whole story now. Maybe later, when things have settled down a bit.
“Katchan?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you know what happened to Kenji…from the sixth grade?”
“You mean Kenji Ishioka? That creep?”
“Uh-huh.” Wataru chose his words carefully. “Did he lose his memory or something? Or did he go missing for a while? And when he came back, did he act like his soul was gone?”
Katchan’s eyes focused on Wataru’s face. He walked straight over to his friend and waved his hand right before Wataru’s nose. “Hey! Mitani! Earth to Mitani!”
Wataru laughed. Katchan kept waving. “I know why you didn’t sleep last night! You were playing that game, Detective Meadows: The Case of the Disappearing Client, weren’t you! They say it’s the best one in the series! Once you pick up that controller, you aren’t sleeping until you’re done. Well, time to wake up, Wataru. People we know don’t go missing. Not in real life.”
Wataru laughed while his friend grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “Mitani! Mitani!” Katchan was acting like a cop trying to keep a wounded partner from losing consciousness.
“Kenji hasn’t gone missing. His memory’s fine too, far as I know. Though I did hear that he hasn’t been on the warpath lately. Maybe he’s gone soft. Maybe somebody took that crooked mean streak of his and straightened it out for him.”
Hearing that was enough for Wataru to understand.
It was in the afternoon when the call finally came from the hospital. Grandma had come over from Chiba, and Uncle Lou and Wataru went to the hospital together. Uncle Lou waited in the hallway while Wataru went to see his mother in her room.
Kuniko cried, and Wataru cried. She apologized, and he apologized.
Then, the most unexpected thing happened.
“You know, Wataru,” his mother said, “while I was asleep, I had a really odd dream.”
“What kind of dream?”
“Well…” his mother began, but just from her expression, Wataru knew. He could see it in her eyes.
“It was the strangest thing. It was like another world—like something in one of those video games you’re always playing. And you were there. You were traveling, learning to be a warrior. And you were with this big lizard man, and a girl with cat ears. It looked like you were having fun.”
“Do you remember much about my trip?”
If you don’t, I can tell you. I can tell you everything. I can tell you what I did, and what I brought back.
“I do! I remember it all. Crazy, huh?” His mother smiled. “Wataru, you made a very dashing adventurer, I must say.”
“Mom?” Wataru said after moment. “I think…I think we’re going to be okay.” I know now how to not punish myself for what I’ve lost. I know how to take care of the future.