Projecting, much? I thought, unfairly.
Flowers that bloomed quietly, secretly.
A variety of people popped to mind.
“Oh, hey, when…the rain stops, let’s go…see some…satsuki. They’re blooming in the…mountains.”
So far, out of all the plans that Yano-san had proposed, that had to be the best one by far. However…
“I can manage that, but how will you get there?” I asked.
“Let me…ride on your…back.”
“No way. What happens if you turn into a monster, too?”
I expected her to say something like, Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. But instead she immediately abandoned the idea. “That…would suck.” I was the one that had brought up the concern, but it still hurt a bit being rejected like that.
“By the way, why’d you start talking about Ghibli all of a sudden?”
“Naussica was on…Kinyou Roadshow. You didn’t…see it?”
“Oh, I forgot. That was today, huh?”
Ghibli films rarely came up in conversation with Kasai and the others, so I hadn’t been paying attention. I was a little disappointed—I’d seen the film plenty of times, but I would have liked to watch it again.
“Also, I…was reading this…blog about the behind the…scenes production and urban leg…ends about Ghibli…films.”
“Ah, stuff like, ‘Is Totoro really a Shinigami?’”
“Yeah, yeah. Acchi…kun, you like shini…gami, huh?”
“I’m pretty sure that rumor’s fake.”
“Legends…are fun because they’re…legends, so it doesn’t matter if it’s…fake or not. It doesn’t…matter, as long as…you like Totoro.”
It was annoying to be talked down to, especially by her of all people. All I had said was that I heard the rumor was false. I hadn’t insisted on it or tried to force my opinion on her, and yet she criticized me for it all the same. However, I didn’t debate her on it, since I happened to agree: legends were fun because they were legends. They were tales meant to be spread far and wide, not overanalyzed and picked apart.
I worked up my courage and decided to try and broach the topic I’d wanted to discuss with her.
“Iguchi-san said almost the same thing.”
“Igu…chan did?”
This little “Igu…chan” phrase that Yano-san had been saying since yesterday was strangely intoned, perhaps something that she had never actually called our classmate in person. Regardless, she had taken the bait.
“Yeah, Iguchi-san used to sit next to me last year. She always had a Totoro key chain on her bag, so I asked her about it one time, about whether she really liked Totoro. We talked a lot about it, and she said the same thing. She said that she loved things that are mysterious, especially while they’re still shrouded in mystery. After I heard that, I went and watched Totoro again with that in mind, and it became my favorite, too.”
“…Huh?”
Yano-san seemed bewildered.
“I mean, uh…”
Crap. I’d let myself get worked up and started babbling about my own interests when I should have just gotten straight to the point. I’m sure that she didn’t want to hear about all that, and I hadn’t intended to say it.
As I stood there, embarrassed, I realized that she hadn’t chided me for talking about things from during the day. I suppose memories have nothing to do with either noon or night.
“Uh, anyway, the reason I mentioned Iguchi-san is that I wanted you to know that she was the one who wrote all over your notebook, but she didn’t want to do it. Other people forced her. I learned about that today, and Iguchi-san felt bad, and she was sorry for it. I thought that you should know.”
Hoping that it would alleviate some of my embarrassment, I rushed headlong into what I had originally wanted to say. Of course, after I said it, I realized I had no idea what I would do if Yano-san suddenly filled with rage towards Iguchi-san. No matter how apologetic Iguchi-san was, no matter how much she regretted it, she had still done it, after all. Such a reaction wouldn’t be strange at all.
For a moment, there was silence. Just how was she going to react? What would she say? As I stood there fretting, Yano-san, with a dumbfounded look still on her face, said simply, softly, “I see.”
She saw what? As I waited, she pointed at me with her little finger.
“Acchi…kun, you…”
And then, a smile spread across her face, like a little flower in full bloom.
“…you like Igu-chan…don’t you?”
A puff of air that sounded very much like “Wha?” spilled from my jagged mouth, and Yano-san gave a theatrical nod of understanding.
“I see…I see. You…should talk a bit more carefully about the girl…you like, though.”
“Huh? Wait a…hold on, what?”
My panic was incredibly obvious. As always, Yano-san entirely ignored my response and patted her fist onto her palm. Hang on now. My emotions couldn’t keep up with this.
“I see…why it was a notebook I…already used up. Because it was…Igu…chan.”
“What do you mean?”
“Daytime talk is…over now.”
Yano-san clasped both hands over her mouth. Well, that was sudden.
Just where did she draw the line? It was starting to feel like this whole thing was at the mercy of her whims, so I decided to ignore her advice. There was something that I desperately could not keep silent about.
“So, by the way…”
There was one more thing that I wanted to confirm, just in case. I needed to talk about this seriously, for the sake of calming my own nerves.
“About the graffiti on Iguchi-san’s notebook…”
Her mouth still covered, Yano-san furrowed her eyebrows.
“I just have to be sure. It wasn’t you, right?”
This time, with her mouth still covered, and her eyebrows still furrowed, she shook her head. “Of course not. Sorry.”
Though I’d meant that I was sorry for doubting her, Yano-san pointed my way, as if to lecture me.
“It’s…mid…night…break.”
Apparently, that edict was far more important to her than the fact of my suspicion.
There was a violent sound against the window. The downpour seemed to be growing stronger.
Just then, the bell rang. Between my trip to the department store, and the fact that I had transformed later in the evening than usual, tonight’s visit was a short one.
“Time to…go. Acchi…kun, I’m glad that Igu…chan is the one…who’s important to…you.”
“Hey. No talking about the daytime.”
I realized that by saying that, I acknowledged her decree, but not even a monster has the power to take back words that have already flown from its mouth.
“It makes the night…less…important, you know?” Her words were teasing but pure. I was at a loss for a reply.
So I said nothing. No “yeah,” no “uh-huh.” No matter what I said, I couldn’t help but feel that I would be the one who ended up getting hurt.
“I hate seeing…good people…get hurt,” she said in parting, just before I leapt from the window. Even at this, I couldn’t shake my shaggy black head.
It was not something I could deny.
Without saying another word, I leapt outside. The rain battered my body, but it made no difference to a monster like me.
I wonder. If I had simply said “yeah,” would that have changed anything?
If I had said “uh-huh,” would that have changed anything?
The next week, something dreadful happened.