I had spied the notebook and pen hidden away in her shadow. Perhaps she understood what I was getting at, because she quickly shoved the notebook under her butt and pulled a face, as if to say “You were just seeing things, there’s no notebook there.” But I was sharp enough to see through such lies. I pointed at her behind.
“Why do people who draw always hide it? There’s a kid like that in my class too. He draws such wonderful pictures, but he hates people knowing it. Why do you hate showing off?”
For a few moments Minami was silent, staring up at the sky. But, as my little black-furred friend sprung away to chase a small white butterfly, Minami sighed again.
“It wasn’t a picture.” There was a pause, as though she was mustering her courage, before she spoke again. “I was writing.”
“Writing? Were you writing in your diary?”
“No…I was…writing a story.”
“Whoa! That’s amazing!”
Minami averted her eyes, as though worried she would be smashed to pieces. But as the words leapt out of the bottom of my heart, she looked surprised. Maybe I’d let my voice get a little too loud again. However, I quickly saw that it was not my battle cry that shocked her. Something very peculiar had caught her surprise.
“You aren’t…gonna laugh?”
I was unsure of what she meant.
“Laugh? Me? At what? Why would I laugh, when I haven’t even read any funny jokes? If you’re saying that I would laugh at people who write stories, then my stomach would probably twist up and kill me while I was busy reading. Why would seeing someone write a story be funny enough to make me laugh?”
She shook her head. For the first time, I glimpsed her eyes through her swaying bangs. They were beautiful, just like Skank-san’s. And Granny’s.
“That’s not it!” she said, as loudly as I had.
I was not surprised. If I got surprised at things like that, I would shock myself so badly that I really would die. I decided to implore her.
“Say, let me read that.”
“Huh?” she said, surprised again.
Obviously, if there was a story then I wanted to read it. But I knew that was not normal for a child of my age, so I could understand her shock.
“I’ve already said so, but I am clever. I know how wonderful stories can be.”
“What’s that supposed to…no!”
“Why not? Oh, do you have some other engagement?”
“I mean, I don’t.”
“Then please, let me read it. I know how wonderful stories are, and honestly, I’ve always thought that I’d like to write one of my own someday.”
Minami’s face showed not the slightest hint of movement, but the secret I had revealed seemed to grant her power. She pressed her hand to her mouth and grumbled, utterly resigned.
“Why do I gotta show this to some stupid brat I just met?”
She handed me the notebook.
I’m sure that Minami-san knew that a girl’s secrets did not come cheap. I had not told anyone that I wanted to write a story before. Although I had grand plans of one day moving everyone with something I had written, this was the first I’d ever told anyone. In exchange, I secured the chance to read a brand-new story. I think that’s what people call negotiating.
“Ah, wait.”
“What is it?”
“I completely forgot. I’m reading about Homeless Huck right now.”
“Huh, I read that when I was a kid, too.”
“I’ve never read another story when I’m already in the middle of one. That’s my rule. I want to be able to completely immerse myself in a world.”
“Then give it back.” Minami pursed her lips and took the notebook back. “I get what you mean, though,” she muttered, placing the notebook back under her backside.
It was like a treasure chest she was hiding so no one could find it. It made me want to read her story all the more.
“I’ll finish reading Huck soon! Let me read your story when I’m done!”
“I’d prefer you just forget about it.”
“No, I won’t forget. Life is like the contents of a refrigerator!”
“What the heck does that mean?”
“Even if you forget about the nasty peppers that are in there, you’ll never forget about the delicious cake!”
Minami-san laughed, as though simply expelling air from her lips. “You’re really something, brat.”
I didn’t get any bad feeling, like I was being badmouthed. Although she kept calling me “brat,” which I knew was something that people said when they were being cruel, I got the same wonderful smell from her “brat” as I did from Skank-san’s “little miss,” and Granny’s “Nacchan.”
I suppose that Minami-san recognized me as a friend. It was probably because she enjoyed stories just as much as I did.
If only everyone in the world loved books, I thought, then it might be a more peaceful place.
No one could ever think about hurting other people if they knew about something as exciting as stories. And yet, given that she knew this, I still could not understand why Minami-san would cut her own arm. She still would not say much about it, but I could get her to speak about other things, such as books.
She knew about way more stories than I did. However, even she did not properly understand The Little Prince, and I realized how truly impressive Granny was, that she could solve questions that even a high school student could not grasp. Minami-san said that she liked the part about the fox in the desert.
“Well, I’ll come back here again.”
“You don’t need to. But I mean, you can do whatever you want. I don’t own this place or anything.”
“I can’t wait to read your story!”
“Whatever.”
“Don’t cut your arm anymore.”
Minami-san said nothing, but waved her right hand to shoo me and my tailless friend away. As we carefully descended the stairs, Minami-san was still up there, watching the reddening skies.
Today, I had gained another destination for my daily walks.
“Happiness won’t cooome, wandering my way sooo, thaaat’s why I set ooout to find it todaaay!”
“Meow meow!”
By the time we made it down the mountain, there were no more children left in the little park. Instead, there was a lone adult, sitting on an unswaying swing with a terribly sad look upon his face. I was suddenly quite concerned for him. I felt like I had seen him somewhere before, but I could not recall who it was. But, as I went to approach him, I noticed my tailless friend moving on. I just ended up just heading home for the day.
When I arrived at home, I was surprised to see that, for once, my mother was home before me. She looked between the flier I had left on the table and her pocket planner, and gave me wonderful news about the observation day. I found a new resolve—I had to think even more seriously about happiness. I dove into my soft bed that night with my mother’s promise locked safe inside my heart.