I Had That Same Dream Again Read online

  “I’ll see you at observation day, then.”

  With those words of parting, the Kiriyuus and I went our separate ways. Other than one small “S-see you later,” Kiriyuu-kun himself said nothing.

  “Despite how he is, that boy draws wonderful pictures,” I told my little friend later.

  Miss Bobtail merely tilted her head, mewling dubiously. She probably had no interest in human boys.

  When I returned home and said farewell to my friend, I was greeted by a strange sight. Not only had my mother gotten home before me, but she had already finished making dinner. On top of this, it was all food that I loved. I began to wonder if I had somehow gotten the date of my own birthday wrong.

  I loved my mother’s cooking. She was a busy person, so we usually had to buy our ingredients at the neighborhood supermarket, but the food she made was exceptional.

  I happily ate up my favorite dishes, but partway through I realized something strange. My mother was just watching me eat, not touching her own food. I wondered if she was merely embarrassed at how I was stuffing my face, but that was not the case.

  I looked at her. She looked back at me with a very serious expression and said my name. I got a very bad feeling from this. Adults only ever made serious faces when they had something unpleasant to say. It was different from Hitomi-sensei’s serious expression. I had seen such a look on the face of a scarier teacher, demanding to know who had broken a window, and on my father’s face when he forgot my birthday. Sometimes they made faces like that in the hopes of surprising you with some happy news instead, but such times were incredibly rare.

  How wonderful it would be if my mother was putting on an act to surprise me! However, I knew that that was not the case when she began by saying “I’m sorry.”

  She told me that both she and my father would have to travel somewhere far away for business soon, and so even though they really wanted to go, even though they’d been looking forward to it, and were incredibly disappointed, they would not be able to attend class observation day.

  For a second when she finished speaking, it felt as though the whole room went dark. In that darkness, I felt the pit of my stomach drop. Although my lips were pressed into a pout, I probably still could have eaten my Hamburg steak. But I did not. With that momentary darkened mood, all the feelings of excitement I had been storing up within me exploded like a coiled spring.

  “But you said you would come!”

  She already knew how loud I was, and so this did not surprise her. What did surprise her was that I was angry, something that had not happened in a long time.

  Although I say “a long time,” in truth I had been feeling this way for a while.

  “Always! You’re always breaking your promises! Father too!”

  “I’m really sorry, but we have to go.”

  “Why do you always choose work? Why?!”

  My mother explained the reason that her work was so important, very simply, so that even I could understand. However, that was not what I was asking. I realized that my mother didn’t understand me at all, and there was nothing to be done about that. Still, she could have at least tried to think about it, like Skank-san had said.

  And so, even though I should have known better, I said something that I absolutely should not have said.

  “Then I wish I’d been born into a family with a mother and father who didn’t have such important jobs!”

  I could tell right away that I had hurt her. However, she was the same as me, and could not stop herself.

  “There’s nothing we can do about it!” she shouted.

  I went straight to my room without taking another bite and crawled under the covers. Although I hadn’t eaten all my dinner, I was not hungry.

  I said that life was like a goat, but perhaps it was more like an alien, I thought. I knew for the first time that my stomach was not just full of stories and happiness, but also sadness and despair.

  Still, it turned out that I was hungry after all, and late that night, after my parents had gone to bed, I snuck into the kitchen and ate some bread.

  I could not eat a single bite of the breakfast my mother prepared for me the next morning.

  Chapter 5

  NOT WISHING TO GO HOME, I went back only to greet Miss Bobtail after school, heading straight to Skank-san’s house with my backpack still in tow. We walked along our usual riverside path towards the square, cream-colored building, but did not sing as we usually did.

  We climbed the stairs and headed to the end of the second floor, stood before the door, and pressed the doorbell. I heard the sound of the bell from within, but there were no other sounds. No matter how many times I pressed the button, Skank-san did not appear. Apparently she was out today. Nothing to be done about that. Adults were busy, after all.

  We went partway back along the route home before heading toward the usual hill. This time, on the rising path through the park where we often saw Kiriyuu’s father, I chose to turn right toward Granny’s house. I had gone to see Minami-san yesterday, so I decided I should see Granny first today. I climbed the hill alongside my glossy-furred friend, dabbing the sweat from my forehead. If I could see a friendly face and chat with them, perhaps my heart would feel a bit lighter. However, Granny’s home brought no joy to my heart either. No matter how many times I knocked on the great wooden door, I never heard any voice in reply.

  I sighed and looked down at my tiny little friend. “All the adults have abandoned me,” I said.

  “Meow.”

  And so I had no option left but to visit Minami-san, the adult who was closest to me in age.

  We descended the hill, and this time climbed the left-hand stairs. My little black-furred friend was as chipper as ever, springing along lightly. However, as the minutes ticked by, my own body felt heavier and heavier, as though I was being filled with lead balls.

  When we opened the iron gate and climbed the rest of the stairs, reaching the clearing at the top. There sat the large, frigid box as always, as though it had simply been plopped down in the middle of the field.

  When I entered the box and climbed the stairs, Minami-san was waiting for me. I sat down beside her, saying nothing. Miss Bobtail took up her usual position on Minami-san’s lap. That was when I realized that Minami-san seemed different from usual. Although it was a bit rude of me, I pushed her bangs out of her face. Behind them, her eyes were gently shut.

  “Minami-san?” I said.

  She opened them slowly, as gently as opening a cake box. She met my gaze with only one eye.

  “Yo.”

  “Salutations,” I replied. “This seems like a really nice place for a nap.”

  “I had that same dream again…”

  “Which dream is that?”

  “A dream about when I was a child. I have it a lot. Was school fun today?”

  “Nope, not at all.”

  “Figured. You don’t look like you had any fun.”

  Although I did not think she was looking at me, she must have been watching secretly from behind her long bangs. I didn’t wish to discuss how I was feeling, so I decided to change the subject. I figured that if we talked about something I liked, my face would light up enough that she would not be able to tell. Just as the scars on Minami-san’s wrists appeared to be fading, I was sure those lead balls would disappear.

  “I’ve been thinking,” I said.

  “About why elementary school isn’t fun? You can’t have fun all day long.”

  “That is true, but that’s not it. I was thinking…what if you showed your story to one of those places that publish books?”

  In a rare move, she looked directly at me with a startled look. “What’re you sayin’ all of a sudden?”

  “I realized that the reason lots of people can’t read your story is because it’s only written down in your special notebook, which means that no one can read it without coming here. So, you should get it made into a book. Then your story will be in the library and I can show it to Skank-s
an and Granny.”

  “Who’s this ‘Skank’?”

  “My friend.”

  “You’ve got some weird friends.”

  “She’s not weird. She’s a wonderful person. She works as a lady in a midnight court. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  Minami-san’s mouth twisted up strangely. “Do you always hang out with weirdos?” she asked.

  “Probably,” I replied, mimicking her, mimicking me, mimicking her.

  “You have a wonderful job too, Minami-san. If the people at the companies who make books read your story, I’m sure they’d be all over you. Then you could write stories every day. You could create another world in the hearts of people all around the world, just like Mark Twain, or Saint-Exupéry.”

  “Easy for a brat like you to say.”

  “And you can write books at home too, so you can have a family, and have a kid, and you could play with them, and go on trips with them, and go to their class observation days, and they would never be lonely.”

  Suddenly, every fragment of my heart came spilling out. She brushed it all aside with a gentle sigh. “Ain’t that easy, brat.”

  “Yes, it’s very hard. Writing wonderful stories, that is. That’s why I want more people to know about you and the wonderful things you write.”

  She heaved an even deeper sigh than before. “Listen,” she said, in a tone that could be read as either anger or sadness. “The stories I write aren’t that amazing. I just like putting words on the page. There are people in this world who are way more talented than me. You’ll realize that soon. The stuff I write just isn’t that interesting.”

  She spoke as though she had just swallowed something bitter.

  “I…could never be an author,” she said.

  I took in the meaning of her words in the most childish way. I tilted my head. “What you’re saying doesn’t make any sense.”

  “What about it?”

  “You’re already an author, aren’t you?”

  This time it was Minami’s turn to tilt her head, but I could not figure out why.

  “Authors are called that because they author a new world in people’s hearts, aren’t they? Which means that, while I’m not an author yet, you already are. You’ve created a wonderful new world in my heart.”

  Of course, even a child like me was aware that people worked jobs to earn money, and that people who were called authors received money from selling books. However, in truth, it did not occur to me that “author” was the name of a profession. The idea that writing stories and selling books were connected was beyond my imagination.

  In my mind, authors were not people who sold books, but wonderful people who created worlds of the heart. As far as I was concerned, Minami-san’s name was now firmly among them. Thus, what she said baffled me.

  Minami seemed to understand this as well. She breathed in and out in silence, then she smiled just with her mouth. “That so?”

  “It is. That’s why we need to get your story made into a book, so that everyone can read it.”

  She offered no reply. Instead, she simply looked ahead, smiling. I was filled with happiness at the thought that she might make use of my idea, and formed the same expression as her, looking up at the sky as it unfolded.

  However, this feeling of joy did not last for long.

  “What is happiness?” Minami asked, just when I thought the sky above might just swallow me up. “Do you have an answer yet? About what happiness is?”

  My eyes fell to the concrete floor, suddenly forced to recall the thing I had been trying to forget. “It’s fine, that’s over.”

  “So you found an answer?”

  “No. But, that’s over now.”

  “What the heck does that mean? Dang, and here I had an answer for you.”

  I was stunned to hear this. Even though I had tried to say I didn’t care about this anymore, I couldn’t help but be interested.

  “What? Tell me!”

  “But you said it was over now.”

  “Yeah it is, but I still want to know your answer!”

  She looked meaningfully through her bangs and into my eyes, then away and out into the sky. She spoke her heartfelt words as though simply placing them on the rooftop.

  “Having someone recognize you. To say that it’s okay for you to be here,” she said.

  I tilted my head. “Here? You mean on the roof? Did you get permission from the building owner?”

  “Probably,” she said, mimicking my mimicry of her mimicking me when I mimicked her.

  I still did not understand the meaning of her answer. I would just have to search for my own answer. As I told her about the new book I had started reading, the sky grew red and the wind grew cooler, and before I knew it I heard the faraway sound of a bell chiming.

  “Yo, time to go home, brat,” she said, but I did not stand, nor call to my four-legged friend as I usually did.

  “Don’t you have to go home?” she asked.

  “I don’t want to go home.”

  “Look, don’t worry your folks.”

  “I don’t care.”

  Minami-san giggled. “They mad at you?”

  “They aren’t mad. We had a fight.”

  She looked at me, still smiling.

  How rude, I thought fleetingly, there was nothing funny about this.

  “Listen, brat. When you get home, your mom’s gonna be making dinner for you, like always. A delicious dinner, like it always is. And when you’re eating it, you’re gonna say just one thing: ‘Sorry about yesterday.’”

  “I don’t wanna.”

  “You’re a stubborn one, eh?”

  “But she was the one who was wrong here.”

  “It doesn’t matter what the reason for the fight was.”

  The way she was talking irritated me. “But it’s a really big deal! Mother and Father are always, always breaking promises to me, saying it’s because of work.”

  “Work is a lot more important than you think.”

  “I know that. It’s super important. More important than your own children.”

  “That ain’t it.”

  “Then why is it they always decide that their work is more important than their promises to me? It was the same way this time. She said that they can’t come to my observation day because they have to go on a business trip.”

  “Wh—”

  Just as Minami-san was about to say something, a strong wind blew up. The sudden breeze forced me to shut my eyes. When the wind decided it was finished playing with my long hair, I slowly opened them again to look at her.

  It was only a few seconds. The wind had stolen but a few seconds. I had no idea what might have happened in that scant amount of time.

  “Minami…san?”

  She looked like a mimosa plant. I was sure she would shrink away if I touched her. The smile that she had been wearing had completely disappeared from her face. I was stunned at this unheralded transformation.

  “What’s…wrong?” I asked her clearly.

  But she did not reply. She only shook her head back and forth, quietly. Perhaps she wished to say “It’s nothing,” but even a child could tell that it was.

  “Hey, Minami-san?”

  “Yo, Nanoka.”

  Her voice was trembling and she said my name in that trembling voice. It was the first time she had ever called me anything but “brat.” I got a weird feeling. I did not know why she was shaking, nor why she had said my name.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Nanoka…promise me one thing.”

  She ignored my question. Instead, she faced me head on, gripping me by the shoulders. Seeing her straight-on, her eyes were a color I had never seen before.

  “P-promise?” I repeated.

  “A promise. Or, a request from me, anyway. Listen.”

  “What’s going on, Minami-san?”

  “Just listen. Just one thing. When you go home, you have to make up with your parents.”

  I couldn’t underst
and the meaning of this request. I shook my head.

  “Look,” she continued. “I understand how you feel. I’m sure you’re hurt, lonely. Knowing you, I’m sure you said something terrible. I know that you wanna stand your ground, that you can’t back down. You still gotta apologize today. Tell them, ‘I’m sorry.’”

  “I-I don’t want to. That’s not—”

  “You’ll regret it forever if you don’t!”

  Her voice cut through me like the wind, and now I was trembling. I shivered, looked at Minami-san’s face, and shivered once more. She was angry. For some reason, I got the feeling that her anger wasn’t directed solely at me.

  I was completely lost. Ignoring my distress, she kept talking, saying more things that I did not understand.

  “I…regret it. I’ve always regretted it. Why didn’t I apologize back then? Now we can never even have a fight again. They can never get mad at me again. We can never…eat dinner together…again.”

  “Minami-san…what are you saying?”

  “I can never apologize to them. So, I’m begging you.”

  A tear cut down Minami-san’s cheek. As far as I was aware, adults never cried simply to startle children. Perhaps she realized that she was crying, because she tried to conceal it—dabbing her eyes furiously with her sleeve.

  “Listen,” she said. “Life is a story that you write yourself.”

  Although she mimicked my usual words, I did not immediately understand. I tilted my head, asking what others usually asked me. “What do you mean?”

  “With revisions and corrections, you can rewrite a happy ending with your own hand. Listen, I’m not saying that you should never have fights. I’m just saying that I wish I had known, back then, that making up is just as much a part of a fight as the fighting. But because you’re so clever, I’m sure you’ll understand. Your mother was just as sad as you were when she found out that she couldn’t attend your observation day. She was just as disappointed to learn that she couldn’t spend time with you. That’s why she worked so hard to make all your favorite foods, to be sure that she could eat dinner with you. And I’m sure you can understand why your father always makes sure to buy things that you really want for your birthday.”