Yoshirō bit his lip. Then he managed to squeeze out a few words. “But it’s true. I have no talent,” he said. “I’m bad at it. Really. I’ll never be able to be a manga artist.”
“Is that so? My brother said your pictures were good. He liked them, at least. Although he can come off as a little bit of a smooth operator, somehow, so he can be hard to believe.”
“Oh! It was the same with you, wasn’t it?” Satomi said. “At first we were all quite concerned about this peculiar young man coming around.”
Tsugi laughed. “Yes, that’s right. Seems like peculiarity might run in the family, you know?”
“If it’s a family matter, your brother must be a good person,” said Satomi. “We all look forward to the days you come round now.”
All Tsugi said was, “Is that right?” but he looked a little pleased nonetheless. Then he turned to Yoshirō.
“Anyway, my brother meant what he said. But seems like he didn’t get it across to you. He wanted to apologize, but it looked like you were gone for good. He was really worried, you know. He thought maybe it was his fault you disappeared. So that’s why he put me on the case. I’m glad I found you!” Tsugi let loose a toothy grin. Then he latched on to Yoshirō’s arm. “Let’s go for a drive. To Mojikō.”
Tsugi spoke in an offhand manner, but Mojikō was close to a three-hour drive from there, even on the expressway.
“W-wait a minute.” Yoshirō tried to demur. “Let’s not jump into anything we’ll regret. Plus, it’s already getting dark.”
“It’s no problem. I have to come back this way, so you can spend the night there and I’ll bring you back tomorrow. That should do it.” Tsugi looked back at the mini-truck behind him. The truck bed was already full, but according to Satomi, there were other households waiting for him to visit.
Tsugi continued. “You can stay at my brother’s place. Just between us, he actually lives in the Golden Villa Apartments building, on the fourth floor. He gets a discount on the rent, but it’s a nice big place. So, Auntie—can I borrow your son?”
“Yes indeed,” Satomi readily assented. “I’ve had enough of him loafing around with that hang-dog look on his face. Oh! And if you’re going down to Mojikō, get me some of those local sweetcakes, the ones shaped like blowfish. I like those quite a bit.”
Yoshirō was disconcerted by this unexpected turn of events, but Tsugi had a firm grip on his arm and wouldn’t let go. An hour later, Yoshirō was riding shotgun in the mini-truck, speeding north on the expressway to Mojikō.
“How did you find me?” he asked, gazing at the scenery as it flowed past.
Tsugi gave a satisfied laugh. “I told you, didn’t I? Finding things is my specialty.”
“Yeah, but it’s just unbelievable. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going.” The test prep academy had his home address, but the Shiba brothers wouldn’t even have known where Yoshirō worked. As he puzzled over how in the world they could have found him, Tsugi gave him a quick sideward glance, then said, “Old Red. He told us that you had given up your room and were leaving Mojikō. You can learn pretty much anything if you ask that man.”
“Wow.” Yoshirō remembered the man’s tough, bearded face. He had always thought the guy was kind of comical, wandering around all day in his funny getup, but now he was sounding more like some sort of intelligence agent, or a member of some shadowy organization that watched over the streets of Mojikō.
“But even Old Red didn’t know where your hometown was. And then my brother said you were probably from Ōita. Seemed like he recognized your accent.”
That night, when he had gotten so upset and shouted at Shiba, his local dialect must have come out. He hadn’t noticed.
“My work takes me all over Kyūshū. So recently I looked for you whenever I was in Ōita. Aside from that tip, I’ve mostly been following my nose. But I found you, so that’s no small thing.
“It’s all about my animal instincts,” he added, his mouth spreading into a wide grin. Observing his gruff, forthright manner, Yoshirō doubted for a moment whether this man could really be the other Shiba’s brother. But then, who but Shiba’s brother could have such a peculiar ability?
“Right, then,” he continued, “it’s time I had a look at these drawings, too. I’m sure they’re in that bag of yours.”
Yoshirō had a bag with a change of clothes in his lap, and sure enough, he had also packed a sketchbook with his drawings, as Tsugi had guessed. He opened the bag and pulled the book out. He ran his hand softly over its old, faded cover.
When the time finally came for him to leave Mojikō, Yoshirō had barely been able to stroll by the old customs house, and nothing more. Since he now had the chance to visit all the places lodged in his memory, he had taken with him the volume that held the deepest sway in his heart.
“This is the first sketchbook I bought after I moved to Mojikō.”
He had purchased it at an old stationery store in the shopping district. The proprietor seemed an ill-tempered man, but after Yoshirō had made his purchase, the man had said, “There are a lot of picturesque landscapes in these parts, so make good use of it.”
“I grew up deep in the mountains,” Yoshirō said to Tsugi, “so just being by the sea made me happy.”
Maybe the new surroundings would prompt a change in him, too, he thought. He could still remember the thrill he felt at the time. As he turned the pages, the scenery of Mojikō unfurled before him. Children playing on the giant octopus slide at Saltbreeze Playground, and the night view at Mekari Park. A sleeping cat with the Sankiro social club in the background, and a penguin at the Kaikyokan aquarium. When they paused at a traffic light, Tsugi paged through the book and made a sound of pleasant surprise.
“I told you, I’m no good,” Yoshirō insisted.
“No, they’re not bad, are they? They have charm.” He didn’t know if it was Tsugi’s unaffected manner of speech, or something about his temperament, but Yoshirō found that he accepted the compliment without resistance.