“Please stop the fighting, both of you… I don’t want you to fight over me.”
Even I could take the hint Serizawa was trying to send us with yet another of his out-of-place old pop songs.
“This is such a stupid song!” Tamaki says from the front seat. I agree. I don’t need his advice.
“Really? But I chose it just for you,” Serizawa says, sounding truly disappointed. The red convertible is cruising down a peaceful country road between a seawall and fields of crops. We hardly pass any people walking or driving.
“I’m sorry; it’s my fault for toying with your hearts.”
For a while, Serizawa sings along with the nostalgic tune, which I kind of recognize and kind of don’t. Then he glances back at me.
“Isn’t this car great when the weather’s nice?”
“……”
I ignore him and bite into the big cream sandwich I’m holding in both hands. I suddenly felt hungry at the rest stop and bought the sandwich along with a carton of milk. I stuff my mouth with the soft bread and wash it down. It’s so delicious I can practically feel my cells rejoicing at the sweetness. Tamaki hasn’t said a word, obviously because of the awkwardness. But after our fight in the parking lot, I feel like something has shifted. Serizawa’s right—it does feel nice riding along in the convertible now that the rain has cleared up. The sky and clouds look brighter, as if an old picture frame has been replaced. I’m breathing easier, like there’s more oxygen in the air.
“Sheesh, it’s like there’s rainclouds in here,” Serizawa says, smiling a little as he looks between me and Tamaki. “I bet the new guy agrees.”
He glances up at the rearview mirror. The black cat is purring as it licks the white kitten’s fur. It’s big enough to occupy one of the back seats all by itself.
“I never thought there’d be another one…and it’s giant.” He sounds amused. “Look, a rainbow! That’s a good omen!”
He’s right—a big rainbow is stretched across the sky ahead of us. I’m impressed, but I don’t say anything. Tamaki doesn’t, either.
“…And the crowd stays silent,” Serizawa says, not seeming to care. He puts a cigarette in his mouth and lights it.
“Suzume, I was thinking…,” he says casually, blowing smoke. “Cats don’t follow people around without a reason, do they? I mean, they’re not like dogs.”
That might be true. It might, but right now I’m more mystified by Serizawa’s ability to continue this one-sided conversation. I mean, Tamaki and I haven’t exchanged a single word during the eight-hour drive from Tokyo, not counting the rest stop.
“I think those two must have something they really want you to do. Don’t you?”
“Exactly right,” says a childish voice.
All three of us turn to stare at the black cat sitting next to me. Sadaijin has lifted its head and is staring at Serizawa with its green eyes. Then, slowly, it turns its gaze on me. There is a crystal-clear intelligence in those eyes.
“Turn us back with your human hands.”
“Th-that cat just talked!” Serizawa and Tamaki exclaim at once.
Just then, a truck bears down on the convertible, which has strayed over the centerline. The driver honks in surprise.
“Waaah!”
We all scream as Serizawa swerves to the left. The brakes on the truck screech, and it grazes us as it passes. Our car spins once, plows its bumper into the greenery atop an embankment, and stops. Just as I’m thinking, That was a close call, the front wheels roll past the weeds at the edge.
“Huh?”
The car slowly creeps forward, tilting down the side of the embankment.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa—”
Serizawa frantically shifts into reverse and hits the gas, but the car continues to tilt forward. The back wheels are floating in midair.
“Oh no, no, no…!”
The car is completely off the road now, sliding slowly down the steep, three-meter-long slope covered with weeds. The tires spin backward, vainly scraping at the vegetation as the car continues to slide. Finally, the front end crashes into the ground with a dull bang. There’s a loud sound of gushing air as the driver’s- and passenger’s-side airbags inflate. Tamaki and Serizawa watch in a daze. I hear the whir of the motor behind my back, and I turn around to see the trunk opening and the folded-up roof poking out. It slides forward, separates in two, and covers our heads—fully this time.
“It fixed itself,” Serizawa says absently and tugs the handle on his door. Gravity pulls it out of his hand, and when the door is fully open, it bounces back slightly before breaking off with a clang and falling to the ground. The dry sound of the mirror shattering echoes over the quiet paddies.
“…You’ve gotta be kidding,” he mutters, voice flat.
And so, after carrying us six hundred kilometers from Tokyo, Serizawa’s beloved car goes silent just before reaching its destination. Somewhere close by, a bird chirps cheerfully.
As I’m sticking my thumb out to the passing cars, desperately attempting to hitchhike, the two grown-ups are standing on a strip of grass next to a rice field at the bottom of the embankment, still staring in a daze at the car now leaning at a forty-degree angle against the slope.
“That was so scary! And that cat…,” Tamaki says to Serizawa in a low voice, finally looking away from the car. “Did you hear it talk?”
Serizawa, who’s been taking in the sad fate of his beloved car, returns to his senses at the sound of Tamaki’s voice and turns toward her.
“So you heard it, too?!” he answers in a whisper.
“I did! That means the kitten must have been talking, too, back at the station when it said, ‘Be quiet.’”
“Yeah, you’re right! You think they’re possessed? Or psychic or something?!”
“Don’t be ridiculous—”
Meanwhile, I’m having zero luck with the hitchhiking.
The road is so narrow, two cars can hardly pass without scraping against each other, and the only thing in sight is rice paddies full of water. Utility poles punctuate the road at even intervals far into the distance. After quite some time, a minivan approaches, but it passes my waving hand without the slightest sign of slowing down. I can clearly see the driver—a middle-aged man in a work cap—frown when he spots me. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m too desperate, or because there’s a giant black cat next to me, or both, but I make up my mind to smile cheerfully when the next car comes along. But after five more minutes, the road is still empty. I yell down to the bottom of the embankment.