For a requiem, it was very strange.
The black car that transported the dead, although it was black, bore extravagant gold decorations.
As the family and a great many people said their tearful farewells, a cheesy-sounding rock ’n’ roll song played. This song, which the departed had loved most, did not fit a funeral at all. It was by a young band called Rude Rainbow and was entitled “My Girl.”
The song was being played because the departed had listened to it until right before his death.
The young boy, who had died while trying to help an old lady on the steps of a pedestrian bridge, had been listening to an MD player at the time. When his parents had found it and pushed the play button, they had discovered it was cued to the song “My Girl.”
He had been a young boy who had led a normal life… Yanagihara Kazutomo.
Immediately before he had died and now, in his death, that song resonated. And it would continue to resonate within her.
“………”
Rikoko awoke, feeling the coldness of her cheek. The hands of the clock on the wall pointed to six in the morning.
“…Ngh…” She buried her face and wiped her tears on the pillow. It had been a while since she had slept so deeply. These days, she couldn’t get enough sleep. She would close her eyes but would wake up every hour or so.
So that morning, after a good night’s sleep, her head felt clearer than it had been the past few days.
“Good morning, Kagawa-san.”
Argh… All that talking last night, and it still wasn’t enough for him?
With a fabulous smile on his face, Yanagihara peered into Rikoko’s face. His face was extremely close to hers.
“… Aaaaghhh!” Rikoko yelled and threw her pillow at Yanagihara. He was watching her sleep!
The pillow sailed through Yanagihara’s body in a parabolic arc. It hit nothing but the wall.
I swear…
Once more, Rikoko didn’t feel like going to school. She wandered aimlessly about town yet again, until she realized she had arrived at the park.
It was a rather large park, well stocked with playground rides and equipment. Rikoko remembered playing there when she was still in kindergarten.
Yanagihara spoke up. “Come to think of it, I remember falling off of the jungle gym. Hmm… Now that I think about it, I experienced falling at a young age. Although I didn’t die that time.”
He laughed at his own recollections.
That’s nothing to laugh about, Rikoko secretly retorted in her thoughts.
She sat on a bench, and Yanagihara stood next to her, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
After a while, a nursery school teacher brought kids from the local kindergarten to the park. The children instantly ran to and fro. From everywhere, the voices of busy children rang out. A little girl innocently ran in front of Rikoko, tripped on a stone, and slid to the ground.
“Whoa…”
Rikoko ran to the child and picked her up. “Are you all right?”
With tears welling in her eyes, the girl answered, “I’m all right!” She was bearing with the pain desperately.
“Good girl,” Rikoko told her. She pulled a handkerchief from her skirt pocket and took the child by the hand to wash off her injuries with water. Finally, she dressed the child’s wound with the handkerchief.
“Now go to your teacher and get this sterilized, okay?”
“Okay,” the child answered. “Thank you, onee-chan!” The little girl waved her hand and trotted off.
“Hey, hey. Don’t trip and fall again!” Rikoko called out as she smiled and watched the little girl race away. Suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her chest, a reminder of “the thing” that troubled her.
The child ran to the teacher and hugged her with all of her tiny body. Then, pointing at Rikoko, she said something to the nursery school teacher, who quickly walked to Rikoko.
“Sorry to have troubled you. Thank you very much.” The teacher bowed her head in a sign of respect and gratitude.
“Oh!” Rikoko exclaimed. “It was nothing.”
Yanagihara welcomed her back with a faraway look in his eyes. “You’re so kind, Kagawa-san.”
“Not really. Well, if a kid went and dived into the ground in front of you, of course you’d help her out. And she was bleeding. And she was about to cry.” Rikoko scratched her head while she spoke, as if being praised for such a little thing was way too embarrassing to bear.
But Yanagihara said, “You think? These days, everyone’s so busy minding their own business that they don’t pay attention to things happening around them, don’t you think? They try to avoid things when it’s inconvenient for them. And everyone’s rushing. I wonder why everyone’s in such a hurry? There are a lot of people who don’t like to be inconvenienced, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” she answered. “But I definitely think I’m one of those people, though.”
Rikoko rifled through her bag and took out her cigarettes. She popped one into her mouth. As she was about to light it, her hand stopped. She had left her phone in her room, and while she didn’t actually have it with her, the memory of the previous night’s call flashed through her mind. The Zippo lighter was something she had received from the caller.
Although he didn’t smoke, he had said that he kept the lighter as a good luck charm. Rikoko had replied that she would actually use it, and she had taken it from him.
In truth, she had just wanted something from him.
Anything, as long as it was something that belonged to “him.”
But why did things end up this way?
Rikoko gazed at the Zippo, forgetting how to breathe. Then, as he always did, Yanagihara began to speak without warning.
“I wanted to become a kindergarten teacher myself.”
“Huh?” Rikoko raised her head and looked at Yanagihara.
“When I was in kindergarten, my teacher was male. That’s a rare thing, don’t you think? I really liked that teacher. He was kind and large and really good at singing. I admired him a lot. So I thought I’d like to become like him. Well, I’m totally different from him. But I wanted to become a teacher.”
The fact that he referred to himself in the past tense made the reality that he would never be able to realize his dreams all too sad. It also reminded Rikoko of the fact that Yanagihara was dead.
It was so ironic. Yanagihara, who was dead, had a dream. But Rikoko, who was alive and here, had no dreams. She didn’t even feel the urge to find one. She just languidly lived each day, going through the motions of merely existing.
“…There is no need for dreams.”
Someone had said that. But it had been under the pretense that there was something else to be had instead. If so, then to Rikoko there was no hope. She had no dream nor did she have the urge to find one. For her, there was nothing. Only lies.
“Hmm,” Yanagihara mused. “But that’s impossible now. Because I’m dead.” He laughed in a terribly carefree manner.
Like I said, there’s nothing to laugh about. It’s painful. Even an idiot has to have limits. Does this mean I’m even more of an idiot than he is? It makes me look pitiful. Why is Yanagihara here?
Why was he still here? He shouldn’t be, but he was. He had died.
“Why did you come to me? Why am I the only one who can see you?”
Yanagihara smiled joyfully. “Well, that’s probably because I… I’m in love with you, Kagawa-san, don’t you think?”
Give me a break. This isn’t funny. I’m not the kind of person somebody could love even after they’re dead.
Rikoko shook her head. But Yanagihara, always with that faraway look, said, “That day we had the school trip, I actually wanted to approach you, Kagawa-san. But I was scared. What was scarier than falling or getting scolded by the teachers? If I reached the place where you were, and you didn’t smile, that was what scared me the most. So I couldn’t do it. I chickened out.”
I’m a coward. I can only live by telling lies. It’s all a fake, even the smiles I give. I’m afraid to dream. Because what am I supposed to do when I learn it won’t come true? I’m a coward. I hate pain. I hate suffering. And I hate sadness. I ’m not the kind of person who should be loved.
Rikoko closed her eyes and, after a brief moment of silence, slowly opened her mouth to speak.
“Look. This is a story that doesn’t matter. Just suppose there was this girl. And this girl is very weak…”