Challenge of the Fairies

Challenge of the Fairies

“Here it is, that place you asked me,” the cab driver said and pulled over. He was pointing at the side of the street. Johan squinted his eyes, but all he could spot through the snowstorm was a yellow light in the distance.

“Danke,” he said in his bad German and paid the man. He clutched his coat tightly before getting off the cab.

As it drove away, Johan wondered if he should just go back. What was he even doing here? He left England with the pretext of going to see his grandparents, whom he barely even knew due to the great distance. This was his only his second visit in Germany. Frankly, his mother’s parents were merely strangers to him. There was no reason he’d suddenly decide to pay them a visit in his thirties.

“So cold… I guess January was a bad choice…” Johan mumbled to himself as he slowly dragged his feet through the snow-covered pavement. He just wanted a cup of hot tea, a pile of blankets and a lit fireplace to curl next too. Who cared about his stupid search? It was probably pointless anyway.

After what seemed like ages, he reached the tavern’s entrance. Loud music was playing inside. Laughter and the sound of glass against glass were audible even outside. Johan entered hurriedly, bringing fresh snow in with him. The place was crowded, so he made his way between occupied tables and found an empty stool by the bar.

For a while he was too busy, taking off his jacket, setting his bag on the floor and trying to warm up, that he didn’t realize that the bartender was talking to him. He was a tall, stocky, muscular man who seemed to barely fit in his shirt. He looked somewhere in his fifties, maybe sixties, with grayish hair and a thick beard. All in all, he was somewhat scary. Like a bear in human’s clothing.

Johan could only understand half of what he said, proof that his parents’ efforts to teach him German when he was still a schoolboy had gone to waste, but he understood the bartender was waiting for an order.

“Etwas… etwas warmes,” he said. He didn’t care what he got, if it could warm him up.

The bartender grinned and started talking on his own. Johan could tell that he was going to try some specialty or something. He patiently waited as the man poured wine, another red drink and then brought over various vases stuffed with spices at the bar and started mixing them.

Johan looked around and realized that the tavern was slowly emptying. Oddly enough, half of the tables, had already emptied out and waitresses were collecting dishes and glasses. Johan looked at his watch. Only ten’o clock? People sure go home early around here, even though it’s Saturday…

His attention turned to the bar as a glass was roughly placed before him. He took his time observing the peculiar drink. It had to be a local specialty; and a very loaded specialty at that. There was a slice of orange on the glass and a stick of cinnamon inside as well, more lemon was floating inside, soaked by the steaming red wine.

“Alles gut?” asked the bartender. “Trink!” he encouraged him with a smile. He said some more things, and as usual Johan could only get the basics. He definitely introduced himself as Olaf and also said something like, “Trust me, it’s good, drink up!”

Eventually, Johan took a sip. The lemon and the cinnamon had the strongest taste, but less than a minute had passed and he was already getting warmer. He gulped down the rest quickly and ordered a second. After the third glass, he decided to cut to the chase. He had come there to get some answers after all. The alcohol slowly erased any worries he had about speaking incorrectly and he could swear he even understood more from what the bartender said.

“How is the area around here?”

“Schiltach?” The bartender laughed. “It’s just a small town. There are houses, some shops. Nothing interesting really.”

“So… you haven’t heard any tales… stories… anything mysterious going on?”

“Mysterious…?” Olaf paused for a second, a wrinkle showing on his forehead. “I guess not. Or maybe… Well, it’s just some myth. About the Schwartzwald.”

Something clicked in Johan’s head. Schwartz meant black. Wald was forest. So, the Black Forest…? Had he heard the name before?

“Where is that?”

Olaf slammed his hands on the wooden bar. Johan flinched away, but the man started laughing loudly. The few people had were left in the tavern quieted and turned to stare at him. “Where’s the Schwartzwald, he says! The Schwartzwald! It’s all over the place, boy. Every single inch of woods you see around here, that’s where the Schwartzwald is.”

Johan stared down at the glass in his hands. He felt like he sounded very stupid just then. “And you’re saying that there is something curious about it?”

“Oh, there have been all sorts of stories about it. Children and hunters getting lost. Fires burning without anyone lighting them. Voices heard from its depths. Just looking at its direction at night can give you the creeps.”

“Voices, huh?” Johan gulped down what wine still remained in his glass.

“Another one?” Johan nodded. Olaf took the empty glass away from him. “Why are you even interested in that sort of thing? Are you a journalist? Because if that’s the case, I have to tell you a few years back someone else came and wrote for some newspaper about Schwartzwald.”

“No, no… it’s nothing like that. It’s for personal reasons.”

“A tourist’s curiosity?” The bartender grinned.

“You could call it that.” Or maybe not. I didn’t come here for tourism. Who in his right mind would come for tourism in this cold, God-forsaken place? If that hadn’t been his mother’s homeland, he would have never set his foot in this country, not now, not ever…

Soon after, a company of men who looked about Johan’s age entered the tavern. “Excuse me. I’ll be back,” the bartender said as he left Johan to take care of the company’s drinks. Johan felt somewhat dizzy from all the wine. He held his head and stared at the glass as his mind slipped away and he dove into old memories…

* * * * *

“I’m going to do some shopping. Be a good kid until I come back, okay? Don’t disturb Mom, alright?” was what Johan’s father had told him, before leaving in the morning. Johan had agreed, like the good kid he was. There was a part of the promise he made though that he couldn’t keep.

He carefully tiptoed up the stairs of the dark house and approached his parents’ bedroom. The door was tightly shut, as usual, but he mustered all his courage to go in. He might have promised, but it really was a good chance to see his mother. He rarely did so, even though they lived in the same house. She was always sick, always shut in that room. His father always said she needed some peace and quiet and that she might get better eventually.

Johan pushed down the handle and opened the door just a crack. The heavy, blue curtains hung shut in front of the windows, but a little sunlight got in, giving the room an ominous, indigo hue.

“Who’s there?!” the woman asked in a shaky voice. She always sounded like that. It’s because she rarely talks, Johan thought.

“It’s just me, Mom,” Johan said quietly and walked towards her.

Sabine sat in her rocking chair, with her feet curled up to her chest, wrapped in a blanket. Her face softened at the sight of her son, but her eyes looked tired and her face old. She had deep wrinkles scarring her face for as long as Johan could remember. None of his friends’ mothers looked like that.

“How are you feeling?” Johan asked and took her hand. It was a little colder than his, but he thought it was because she was sitting in there all day. “The weather’s so nice today, the sea is calm.”

“Is it, now?” Sabine asked absentmindedly. “That’s good. It’s not good when they get mad…”

“Mad? Nobody’s mad, Mom,” Johan reassured her. “Do you want me to show you what I drew at school the other day? The teacher said it was very good and gave me an A! She wanted to hang it in the classroom but I said no because I wanted to show it to you first!”

“Mmmh. Let me see then,” she agreed.

Her son’s face lit up and he ran out of the room. He noticed her flinching when he walked in, but she forced a smile on her face. He gave her the drawing and stood there proudly, waiting for her appraisal.

“It’s a really good drawing,” she said eventually and ruffled his hair gently.

“Really?”

She nodded. “I like the sunglasses that the sun is wearing.”

Johan was smiling from ear to ear. “I got the idea from a fairytale our teacher told us!”

“What fairytale?” Sabine straightened  up in her chair and Johan sat cross-legged on the carpet opposite her.

“Well, it is a long one, but I can tell you if you like.” He smiled at her expectantly.

“Please do.”

Johan cleared his throat like grown-ups did, put on a serious face and began. “It is a tale about the Sun, who was feeling lonely after being on his own watching everyone from afar for so many years. So, he called his friend, the Moon, to stand in his place, put on a hat to hide his golden hair and a pair of dark glasses to hide his eyes and he went down to earth to look for a bride to keep him company.

“He searched and searched, but all the girls he met couldn’t stand him for too long because he was too warm to say next to. In the meantime, the world had only night with the Moon keeping watch, and humans were beginning to get annoyed, so time was pressing the Sun to hurry and find his bride.

“When he was about to give up, he stopped under the shade of a big tree to rest and he fell asleep below it. He woke up from a beautiful voice and saw a dark-haired woman dancing nearby. He realized this was the one he was looking for. He kissed her and her hair turned gold and so it was decided that she would be the Sun’s bride and then they both went up to the sky together.

“That’s it,” he said happily. “So, what did you think?”

Sabine nodded absentmindedly. “Hmmm, it was a nice story.”

“Our teacher also said that some people say that the Sun’s bride in the story used to be the Queen of the Fairies before she married him.”

Sabine’s posture changed immediately. The room wasn’t very bright, but he could see his mother’s eyes growing wide and staring at the wall in terror. She jumped up, knocking her chair down violently. Johan instinctively crawled back, taken aback by her reaction. She started going up and down the room restlessly, mumbling gibberish, half in German, half in English.

“They might know… they mind find us… we mustn’t go in the woods. They’re watching… always watching!” She took a sharp turn and stopped in front of the curtains. “They’ll know… they know everything!” Without a warning, she turned to Johan and grabbed him by the shoulders, staring at him like she didn’t recognize him. “Did you tell them, boy? Did they hear you?! You were in the woods, weren’t you?!”

“Mom, it’s me, Johan! What are you talking about?”

She shook him again, repeating the same questions.

“You’re hurting me, Mom, let me go! It’s just me! Everything’s fine!”

Sabine let him go and approached the windows again, holding her head and saying something Johan couldn’t understand.

“Johan? What is going on?” Suddenly his father was there, his eyes going back and forth between his wife and son. “Get out. It’s okay, I’ll help Mom. Just go downstairs and be quiet.”

“But I… I don’t know what I did wrong…” Johan muttered, looking at his father blankly.

“It’s not your fault. Just get out of the room,” he repeated before turning to Sabine, who was talking on her own, ignoring both of them in her terror…

* * * * *

His mother’s panic attacks had gotten worse ever since. They called for doctors. They moved as far away as they could from the woods so she wouldn’t think about it. Everyone had one thing to say: Sabine Miller was sick in the head. They just gave her some pills and hoped each day would go by as quietly as possible.

Johan stopped talking to her about fairytales, fairies and trees. These things seemed to set her off more often than other conversations. She was constantly distressed… until the last time he saw her. Because Sabine Miller vanished one day. She has been in the missing persons’ list for more than thirteen years. Even his father thought that she must be gone by now.

But Johan was stubborn. He couldn’t believe his mother was just a crazy person who vanished from the face of earth without an explanation. There had to be an answer.

“Ah, sorry, boy! Here, take another one,” Olaf said, placing another glass of spiced wine in front of him. “Things got busy all of a sudden, eh?” He laughed loudly and walked away to take care of more orders.

Johan sat quietly, pondering on his mother’s disappearance and sipping his drink, when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around lazily, to see a short, thin man in a dark, cloak-like coat on his shoulders.

“Mind if I sit with you?” he asked, grinning deviously and showing his bad teeth.

Johan wasn’t sure if he wanted to be near him, but he simply shrugged. What would he do anyway? The man let out a small cackle and climbed – with a little difficulty – on the stool next to him. He reached on his own on the other side of the bar, took hold of a bottle of rum and a glass and poured himself. Johan’s eyes widened in surprise but the small man waved at the bartender, so Johan said nothing. He took another sip of his own drink in silence.

“So, heh, heh, you’re a new face, heh. What brings you here, heh?”

“Just passing through.” What’s this? Do strangers just talk to anyone and go asking questions here?

“Heh, heh, oh, I see, I see. You’re here for the Schwartzwald, aren’t you? Heh.”

That last thing got Johan’s attention. It was the same forest the bartender had told him about. He straightened up and felt the urge to ask more, but he tried not to let it show on his face. “Schwartzwhat? What is that?”

“Heh, heh, but you know already, don’t you? Why are you asking me, heh?”

Johan didn’t see that coming. How did he know? “They might know. They always know,” his mother’s words echoed in his head.

“I know a lot. Olaf is a blabbermouth, heh,” he said pointing at the barman. “He likes telling by-passers spooky stories, heh, heh.” He drank the contents of his glass all at once and grinned. “You believe him, don’t you?”

“What? I… of course not. This is just some stupid gossip. There can’t be people going missing. The police would have done something.” I think so at least… he reasoned quietly.

“Heh, heh. You’re funny, Johan. I expected that. It’s only natural, with you being who you are, heh.”

Johan felt a chill running down his spine. How did that man know his name?

“I am Fred. It’s not proper using your name without telling you mine now, is it? Heh.” Fred gave Johan his hand, but Johan ignored him. Fred was creepy. Maybe Johan had had too many drinks and was imagining things. “So, you want to go to the Schwartzwald? I can take you there! I know it like the palm of my hand! Actually, I know it much better than my palm. Heh. They’ve been wanting to meet you Johan. They’ve known so much… they’re just waiting for you to go to the woods, heh. You’ve kept them waiting for too long, heh, heh.”

“I don’t understand,” Johan said. This sounded too much like the things his mother used to say. There’s no way this Fred guy knows all that; he’s making it up. Or it’s the booze getting to my head. “Who are they?”

“Ah, so you’ve been making new friends, huh?” The big bear of a bartender, Olaf, came out of nowhere, placing a heavy hand on Johan’s back.

“Eh, that’s not–” Johan started to say.

“Good, good. Fred is the best guy! I’ll let you two at it,” he said and, hooting, he walked away.

Johan’s last hope to get rid of crazy Fred, Olaf, left and Johan’s face fell in disappointment. He let out an audible sigh and pretended to be fascinated by something in the tavern’s decoration. Somehow, time managed to pass without Fred saying anything else to him. Eventually the small company of men left as well and the room was filled with an uncomfortable silence. Olaf was napping on a chair on the other side of the bar with his head leaning back and a single waitress was turning the chairs upside down, placing them on the tables to mop the floor. Fred poured himself another glass of rum.

“Uh… I think I should get going…” Johan murmured. He stood up from the stool and staggered, falling back against the bar. I think I had much more than I should… From the noise he made, Olaf woke up and came his way. A strong arm grabbed him and set him on his feet before he could realize out what was happening.

Olaf hooted loudly again. The sound left Johan’s head pounding. “O ho ho, looks like my specialty was a bit too strong for you, boy! Are you going?”

“Y-yes, pet me lay you… ugh, let… let me pay you,” he mumbled, trying to hide his embarrassed face and looking in his backpack for his wallet.

“Oh, forget it, just go. It’s on me,” Olaf said, patting him on the back so hard that he almost fell down again.

“No, no, I can’t let you,” Johan said, staring confused at his wallet, wondering which way the damn thing opened. It seemed too complicated to him at the moment.

“Hey, Johan, look up.” He couldn’t figure out whose voice he heard anymore. He looked at Fred. “You don’t look too well. Have a glass of water,” he said and handed him a glass. Without thinking, Johan drank it.

“It tastes funny,” he said and felt the glass slipping from his grip. The next events were a mess in Johan’s head. He remembered hearing glass break and the bear of a bartender taking the shape of an actual bear as he hooted loudly. He remembered Fred’s crazed glance as he knelt down to look at Johan. Then, darkness swallowed everything.

* * * * *

The cicadas’ song was making Johan’s ears buzz. It had been going on for a such long time… he couldn’t tell how long he was there, listening to it. He rolled on his side and felt something scratching his cheek. He opened his eyes slowly. Everything on his eye level was green. He found himself lying on the ground, tall grass rising all around him. He sat up hurriedly, worrying about what might be hiding in there.

“Ow… my head’s about to burst…” he murmured and placed his hands on the sides of his head, as if he had to keep it together. “Where is this place? Why isn’t there any snow…? There was a snowstorm last night…”

He took a few minutes to snap out of it and he stand up. The grass almost reached his knee. The sun was shining brightly and the cicadas suddenly seemed to be singing even louder than before. Little by little things started coming back to him. The tavern… The bear-like bartender… The creepy, short man… And the drinks… so, so many drinks. “No wonder I am having a hangover… But what am I looking at now? I’m probably still dreaming.”

“You’re not dreaming. This place is real,” he heard a childish voice call out in German. He turned around anxiously and saw a girl in a red summer dress sitting on a swing a few trees farther away.

Johan scratched his head in confusion. What is a swing doing in the forest? And what is a girl doing on the swing in the forest? “Where is this place exactly?”

“But it’s the Schwartzwald of course.”

“And why are you here? What’s your name?”

The girl flashed him a smile and hopped off the swing. “I’m Anna. Come play with me now. It was rather boring waiting for you to wake up.”

Johan didn’t have a chance to say anything because the girl took hold of his hand and pulled him around as she wished. As the day passed, he played with her all sorts of childish, nonsensical games that he had never heard of. He caught himself wondering why he didn’t take the girl and head for the town, leave her at the nearest police station and get away from that place. That thought somehow faded and was forgotten quickly though. He couldn’t recall what he was doing the night before, or how he had gotten to that town and why.

Night came eventually, wrapping the forest like a thick blanket. Everything was enveloped in darkness and Johan was having a hard time seeing up ahead as the girl lead him between the trees. “Shouldn’t you be heading home? It’s getting really dark,” Johan said eventually.

Anna turned around, flashing him her usual smile. “Silly, that’s when it starts becoming interesting. This is the most fun part of the game.”

Something about her words made Johan shiver, even though it was still very warm outside. “What do you mean?”

“The Challenge of the Fairies of course! Come with me, I’ll explain when we get there.”

Somehow, once she took hold of his hand, he couldn’t let go, even though he wanted to. They walked a long distance until abruptly, Anna stopped and sat on the ground, pulling Johan down with her. She crossed her feet and made herself comfortable as Johan looked nervously around. He was so on the edge that he was ready to take off at the slightest sign of danger.

“Why did we stop?” Johan asked, peeking over the bushes in front of them.

“Shhh, not yet! Get down!” Anna said and pulled him back. “Okay, let me tell you how it works. Tonight there’s a full moon, so the Fairies will come out to dance soon.”

“The Fairies…? Wha–”

“Listen, listen! So, the Challenge of the Fairies goes like this: You have to watch them dance all night, but they mustn’t see you. Then, near dawn, when they’ll stop, you have to reach their queen and you can have a wish of yours granted.”

“And… if you are seen?”

Anna smiled broadly. “Just make sure you don’t, okay?”

Johan didn’t like the sound of that. He ducked as far down as he could, trying to sneak peeks through the gaps between the bushes’ branches. It was going to be a long night. How would they even last all night long, watching those fairies, even if they made an appearance? They had been running around the forest all day! Even if he could last, there was no chance Anna would. She is a child. She’ll be asleep before midnight, Johan thought.

Time passed and nobody appeared. Johan started thinking that this was all just part of what Anna’s childish mind had fabricated. Do I have to play along and pretend to see them already? he wondered.

“Oh, there they are!” Anna whispered and pulled his sleeve.

Johan couldn’t believe his eyes. Indeed, dark figures were beginning to gather in the clearing, carrying things. He heard logs being piled one on top of the other and stones being scrapped one against the other. The crackling of the fire came next as it devoured the wood greedily. Music started playing as more figures crowded the clearing. Anna was moving her head rhythmically from side to side, humming to herself as the figures began to dance.

All of Johan’s worries about how they were going to keep themselves from falling asleep evaporated. There was no way one could sleep while watching such a sight. The way they moved, the vibrant music… it was all too fascinating.

“We shouldn’t go in the woods… They’ll know… they always know…” The words rang as a warning bell in Johan’s head. Why though? Who had said them? He could not remember. Well, it didn’t matter anyway. He’d remember whose they were if they were important.

As the time passed, Johan’s fear of the dancers melted away. At first he sat up, looking at them over the bushes… Later he got on his knees and crawled closer… Eventually he rose and went to stand a breath away from the clearing. These are fairies indeed, he mused as he looked at them up closer. Their skin had a pale green hue and their ears’ pointed tips showed through their silky, dark hair.

When the circle came to a halt and the music stopped, Johan was left gazing at them in a daze. His thoughts were hazy and unruly. He saw a man unlike the fairies approaching him; he wore a dark cloak and his eyes gleamed wildly. His name Is Fred, he thought, but that was the only thing he remembered of him.

Fred placed an arm on Johan’s shoulder. “I knew you’d come, heh, heh! They wanted to meet you after all! Heh!”

Johan nodded absentmindedly. The fairies wanted to meet me? Of course. I can have a wish granted after all, can’t I?

“Looks like you were caught, heh. You’re supposed to hide until they’re all done dancing, heh, heh.” His cackle echoed through the clearing, pulling Johan violently out of the trance he had fallen into.

“Wh– what are you talking about? You’re all done, right? I can get to your queen now!” Johan said in a trembling voice.

Fred cackled again. “But you weren’t hiding, were you? The challenge just doesn’t work like this. Heh, heh. Good luck, friend,” he said, patted Johan’s shoulder one more time before withdrawing, vanishing behind the other fairies.

“Did you tell them, boy? Did they hear you?! You were in the woods, weren’t you?!”

I suppose I was, Mom… I’m sorry. They heard me. They even saw me. I’m sorry… I guess you were right. They know. They always know. They might have been watching all along. And I was stupid, oh, so, so stupid!

The fairies were around him, closing in. Their eyes were pitch black and shining in the moonlight, their grins felt threatening as they bared their pointed teeth.

I suppose this is it. I was caught. This was Johan’s last thought before darkness swallowed him.

* * * * *

It was freezing cold. So this is how it feels to be dead. I suppose it’s not much different than that wretched place where Mom grew up…

Johan curled his body, bringing his knees to his chin. Something cold touched his lips. Snow. He opened his eyes and saw he was almost buried beneath it.

Is it snowing in the afterlife too?!

Surprised, he stood up and started shaking the snow off his clothes and hair. “S-s-so cold…” he said and clutched his teeth. He seemed to have lost his coat and scarf somehow. “I shouldn’t hope to find them again either…” he mumbled to himself.

Johan stood there, wondering what he was supposed to do. Am I just going to linger here? If I’m dead, isn’t there someone who should take care of people like me? Like, an angel, or a devil… someone to take me to where I’m supposed to be? I can’t really die from the cold anymore, but it is unpleasant. Maybe I should look for shelter someplace...

The snapping of a twig made him turn around so fast that he fell back in the snow. Someone was standing behind him, wrapped in thick clothes from head to toe. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out the details of the approaching person. His mind tried to process what he was seeing. A face scarred with wrinkles… a pair of wide, blue eyes.

For a second he couldn’t even breathe. Eventually, he smiled.

“I knew you had to be somewhere, Mom.”

Author’s Note: I’m sorry for the German at the beginning, it was used to create the appropriate mood. Hope I didn’t give anyone difficulties, I tried to write them in such a way that it wouldn’t really matter if you could understand what they were saying in German or not. Now what happened at the end really? Did Johan die? Did he find his mother? Or did he go crazy? Mwahaha, I’m leaving the answer to your imagination! Thanks a lot for reading!

Για Μα Ζωγραφιά

Για Μια Ζωγραφιά

Ο Ιάσωνας έτρεχε κατά μήκος του λιμανιού βιαστικά, τρυπώνοντας ανάμεσα στον κόσμο. Τώρα που είχε έρθει το καλοκαίρι, είχαν μαζευτεί πολλοί ξένοι στο νησί και οι δρόμοι έσφυζαν από ζωή. Σταμάτησε μονάχα όταν έφτασε μπροστά στη «Γοργόνα», το παλιό καΐκι του παππού Σταύρου.

Ο παππούς του χάθηκε στην θάλασσα πριν από τρία χρόνια και η «Γοργόνα» βρέθηκε να πλέει δίχως καπετάνιο στα ανοιχτά. Η γιαγιά του ποτέ δε βρήκε το κουράγιο να την πουλήσει, ελπίζοντας πως ο παππούς θα επέστρεφε μια μέρα.

Χωρίς δεύτερη σκέψη, ο Ιάσωνας πήρε φόρα και πήδηξε, πέφτοντας φαρδύς πλατύς στο παλιωμένο κατάστρωμα. Σηκώθηκε, τίναξε την άμμο και την αλμύρα από το μπλουζάκι του και έβγαλε από την τσέπη του το κλειδί για την μικρή καμπίνα. Στρογγυλοκάθισε στην ξύλινη καρέκλα του παππού και έκλεισε τα μάτια του, προσποιούμενος πως ο παππούς του ήταν ακόμα εδώ, λέγοντας του μια από τις τρελές του ιστορίες. Δεν έκανε ποτέ μεγάλα ταξίδια, όμως πάντα φρόντιζε να φέρνει πίσω δώρα για τον μοναδικό του εγγονό. Άλλοτε ήταν κέρματα μουχλιασμένα από την θάλασσα, άλλοτε χάντρες από κεχριμπάρι και νεφρίτη, και άλλοτε τεράστια κοχύλια από τον βυθό.

Τα φυλούσε ο Ιάσωνας τα δώρα του παππού, τα έβαζε όλα σε ένα ξύλινο μπαούλο που είχε βρει στο πατάρι και με τους φίλους του έπαιζε πως ήταν το σεντούκι με τον κρυμμένο θησαυρό. Τώρα που όλοι του οι συμμαθητές όμως έφυγαν για διακοπές και είχε μείνει μοναχός, περνούσε όλο και περισσότερο χρόνο στο καΐκι, αγναντεύοντας την θάλασσα, ενώ φανταζόταν ότι ο παππούς του ζούσε μεγάλες περιπέτειες, με πειρατές και κουρσάρους, σε άγνωστα νερά, μαζεύοντας και άλλους θησαυρούς για το μπαούλο του Ιάσωνα.

Ο μικρός δεν γύρισε σπίτι μέχρι να νυχτώσει. Στην πόρτα τον περίμενε η γιαγιά του, με την κουτάλα απειλητικά στο χέρι, και με πρόσωπο κατακόκκινο από θυμό. «Πού ήσουν τέτοια ώρα; Τι πράγματα είναι αυτά; Το μισό νησί σε ψάχνει! Πού είχες χωθεί πάλι; Πήρε η άμοιρη η μάνα σου τηλέφωνο και εγώ τι να της πω; Θα πέθαινε από την τρομάρα της αν έλεγα πώς σε έχασα! Και αν κανένας σε είχε κλέψει, τι...» και το παραλήρημα συνέχιζε όλο το βράδυ. Ο Ιάσωνας πήγε στο κρεβάτι του ήσυχα, κουκουλώθηκε ως τον λαιμό και περίμενε να αποκοιμηθεί η γιαγιά του. Σηκώθηκε αθόρυβα σαν ποντικάκι μ’ένα σακίδιο στον ώμο και ξεγλίστρησε προς την παραλία.

Παράτησε τα πράγματα του στην αμμουδιά και έτρεξε στο νερό. Πήρε μια βαθιά ανάσα και βούτηξε. Η παλίρροια είχε ανεβάσει την στάθμη και τα νερά ήταν βαθύτερα από συνήθως. Απτόητος ο μικρός, άναψε τον φακό του και προχώρησε.

Για μια στιγμή χάζεψε τα ψάρια, που κολυμπούσαν βιαστικά μακριά του, και κατευθύνθηκε προς τον πάτο, για να βρει κοχύλια. Δεν είχε βρει ποτέ του τόσο μεγάλα όσο αυτά του παππού Σταύρου, αλλά εδώ είχε σίγουρα μεγαλύτερα από όσα ξεβράζονταν στην ακτή. Καθώς έστρεψε τον φακό κάτω, κάτι έλαμψε. «Μπορεί να είναι κανένα νόμισμα!» σκέφτηκε ενθουσιασμένα και κολύμπησε προς τα εκεί.

Το θέαμα που αντίκρισε ήταν μαγικό. Μπροστά του υψωνόταν μια τεράστια μαρμάρινη αψίδα, με φύκια φυτρωμένα στην βάση της. Μαγνητισμένος ανακάλυψε μια ολόκληρη πόλη βυθισμένη. Κίονες πεσμένοι στην άμμο γύρω του και κτήρια θηριώδη, σαν μεγαλοπρεπείς αρχαίοι ναοί τον περικύκλωναν. Κοπάδια από ψάρια κολυμπούσαν ανάμεσα στα ερείπια, φανερά αδιάφορα για την αρχαία πόλη. Όπου και να κοίταζε ο Ιάσωνας, χρυσαφένιες λεπτομέρειες διακοσμούσαν τα κτίσματα και πολύχρωμα κοράλλια κάλυπταν τον βυθό τριγύρω τους. Παντού μικρά αντικείμενα λαμπύριζαν, πεταμένα κέρματα, κοσμήματα, πιάτα και ποτήρια.

Την προσοχή του αιχμαλώτισε ένα άγαλμα. Ήταν τρία μέτρα ψηλό, φορούσε κορώνα και κρατούσε ένα περίτεχνο σκήπτρο. «Σαν βασιλιάς μοιάζει», συλλογίστηκε ο Ιάσωνας. Πλησιάζοντας, είδε περισσότερα. Το σώμα του είχε χρώμα καφετί, σαν σκουριασμένο μέταλλο, καλυμμένο με λέπια. Το πρόσωπο του ήταν βατραχόμορφο, με αυτιά μεγάλα και μεμβρανώδη, χείλη λεπτά και μάτια κατάμαυρα. Ξάφνου, τα μάτια αυτά στράφηκαν προς το μέρος του. Ο Ιάσωνας άφησε την ανάσα του και μια φυσαλίδα αέρα ξέφυγε προς την επιφάνεια.

«Τι γυρεύεις εδώ; Ποιος είσαι;» Ο Ιάσωνας άκουσε μια αλλόκοτη φωνή που ξεκάθαρα ερχόταν από τον γιγάντιο βασιλιά.

Μέσα στην τρομάρα του ο Ιάσωνας ξέχασε πως βρισκόταν κάτω από το νερό και απάντησε. «Με λένε Ιάσωνα. Κατά λάθος ήρθα...»

Η μορφή εγκατέλειψε το βάθρο της και περιεργάστηκε το αγόρι. Τότε ο Ιάσωνας πρόσεξε πως δεν είχε πόδια, αλλά ουρά σαν ψαριού. «Πολύ καλά. Μπορείς να μείνεις. Αλλά αν μάθει κανείς άλλος για τούτο το μέρος, δεν θα ξαναδείς την επιφάνεια,» προειδοποίησε και απομακρύνθηκε στα σκοτεινά νερά.

Φοβισμένος ο Ιάσωνας έφυγε αμέσως και σαν τον κλέφτη επέστρεψε σπίτι. Δεν μπόρεσε όμως να βγάλει από το μυαλό του τον γοργονάνθρωπο βασιλιά. Την επόμενη μέρα σκεφτόταν τον βυθό και ζωγράφιζε την ξεχασμένη πόλη.

«Τι είναι αυτό, Ιάσωνα;» ρώτησε η γιαγιά του, θαυμάζοντας την ζωγραφιά.

«Τίποτα!» απάντησε εκείνος βιαστικά και την έκρυψε κάτω από το τραπέζι.

Το βράδυ αποφάσισε να ξαναπάει. Η θάλασσα ήταν λάδι και η αυγουστιάτικη πανσέληνος καθρεφτιζόταν στην επιφάνεια. Κοντά στην όχθη καθόταν ένας γέρος ψαράς. Ο γέροντας του χαμογέλασε λίγο, πρωτού ξαναστρέψει την προσοχή του στο καλάμι του.

Βρήκε εύκολα την πόλη στο βυθό. Κάτι όμως είχε αλλάξει. Η πόλη έσφυζε από ζωή. Γοργονάνθρωποι, μικρότεροι και νεότεροι από τον βασιλιά, κολυμπούσαν ανέμελα και τα κτήρια ήταν ολόφωτα. Ξάφνου, ο βασιλιάς βρέθηκε μπροστά του.

«Καλωσόρισες. Σου ετοιμάσαμε μια γιορτή. Θα κάτσεις μαζί μας ελπίζω...»

Ο Ιάσωνας έγνεψε χωρίς δισταγμό. Τον ακολούθησε σε ένα τραπέζι γεμάτο αλλόκοτα φαγητά. Μετά από προτροπή του βασιλιά άρχισε να τρώει απ’όλα. Δοκιμάζοντας τα φαγητά, ένιωσε πρωτόγνωρη ηδονή. Μετά από λίγο άρχισε να αισθάνεται παράξενα. Ζαλιζόταν και δυσκολευόταν να ανασάνει. Ο βασιλιάς τον περιεργαζόταν και στο βατραχίσιο πρόσωπο του φάνηκε ένα αχνό μειδίαμα.

«Σε προειδοποίησα. Κάνεις δεν έπρεπε να μάθει. Αλλά είσαι ίδιος ο παππούς σου. Φλύαρος. Ανίκανος να κρατήσεις μυστικό.» 

Ο Ιάσωνας άργησε να καταλάβει. Πράσινα λέπια άρχισαν να φυτρώνουν στα κοκαλιάρικα του χέρια και μεμβράνες να σχηματίζονται ανάμεσα στα δάχτυλα του. Κοίταξε τον βασιλιά άλλη μια φορά και ο κόσμος γύρω του σκοτείνιασε. Ποτέ του δεν θα επέστρεφε. Θα ήταν μια ανάμνηση. Σαν τον παππού του. Και όλα αυτά για μια ζωγραφιά..

Glad to Meet His Ghost ~ Prologue

Glad to Meet His Ghost – Prologue

The thin mist spread across the room silently, swathing everything with its shimmery fingers. The child stirred and sluggishly opened her eyes. Her covers lay in a messy heap by her feet and all of her toys were scattered on the floor.

She rubbed her eyes, trying to clear up her vision. The mist grew denser, until she could scarcely distinguish her surroundings. Lightly her feet touched the floor and she tiptoed across the room, holding the wall with both of her tiny hands.

“Mom?” she called out at the vacant hall. It looked different somehow; all the doors were so far away, as if the hall stretched on forever… “Mom?” she said once again. She searched for her mother’s familiar face and let out a frightened shriek.

It was that horrible painting again. She had always been scared of it, but her parents were adamant about keeping in the hallway. It pictured a girl with braided hair, dressed in white, standing in a dark forest. It always made the child feel like she would someday end up lost and alone, someplace where no one could find her.

She turned around stubbornly, pretending she didn’t care about the scary picture. Her hand reached for the switch in her room, but when she flipped it, nothing happened.

“Huh?” She peeked curiously through the door. “Where did my room go?”

It was as if the whole room had been swallowed by the mist. The toys, the covers… even the walls had vanished.

Sounds reached her from the haze. Heavy voices and the banging of the drums. Playful flutes and more drums followed and the voices grew louder.

“Hello? Anybody there?” The child took a few hesitant steps. Below her feet the soil was damp and fallen leaves crunched with each movement.

The more distance she put between herself and the hallway, the clearer the air became. Trees around her formed a winding path going downhill, all the way to the river.

She kept walking, all the while trying to make sense of what the voices were saying. “Can you hear me?” she yelled.

Up ahead, on the opposite shore, the shrine was visible, lit up and beautifully decorated, glowing brightly in the darkness. Red and white lanterns hung all the way to the shore, flickering like fireflies. The child didn’t notice she had reached the river until she felt the water stroking her ankles. The outlines of people were visible on the other side, but she couldn’t reach them. There wasn’t a bridge to cross; there wasn’t a way for her to go to the other side.

The voices reached her clearly and she realized that behind their heavy tone there was a song hidden.

“The bamboo leaves rustle,
Shaking away the eaves,” they sang.

The child suddenly realized that she was standing in the middle of the forest, alone and lost, unable to cross the river. No, I don’t want that! she thought in panic.

“The stars twinkle,
On the gold and silver grains of sand.”

The child was wearing a white dress. It’s just like the painting… No… She looked with wide eyes as paper lanterns came floating down the river. They came in dozens, or more, with wishes written on them; some were simple and some others were too complicated for the girl to read.

“The five-color paper strips
I have already written.”

The lanterns’ light shivered as the stream dragged them right and left and eventually so far they weren’t even visible. Among the others, came a lonely group of three, white lanterns, without wishes written on them. The girl watched them cautiously as they floated downstream slowly.

“The stars twinkle
They watch us from heaven.”

The song finished, but the voices began anew, even louder than before.

The girl’s heart beat more frantically than the drums across the river. She pressed her hands against her ears, trying to block the sound, but she could still hear them clearly.

“Where is everyone?” she mumbled to herself. They had to be somewhere. They had to be at the other side of the river, at the shrine. “I have to be somewhere!” she yelled back at the singing voices. They went on, ignoring her. “They’re waiting for me!” she continued. The voices sang ever louder, the drums beating loudly in the night.

She curled into a ball, sat down, the water reaching her waist, clapped her hands three times as if in prayer and started to sing.

“Let me pass, let me pass…
What is this narrow pathway here?
It’s the narrow path to the Tenjin shrine,
Please allow me to pass through…”

Wishing lanterns bumped against her before flowing farther down the river, interrupting her signing. She clapped again three times and continued.

“Those without good reason shall not pass
To celebrate this child’s seventh birthday
I’ve come to dedicate my offering…”

She felt her body getting heavier, sinking slowly like a stone trying to reach the riverbed.

“Going in will be fine,
But returning will be scary,
It’s scary but
Let me pass… Let me pass…”

As the water covered her head, she calmly looked at the night sky. The water didn’t sting her eyes, only blurred her sight a little. The drumming song pulsed against her ears as countless fiery flowers exploded in the heavens, so bright that they hid the stars.

Please let me pass, she thought. They’re still waiting for me…

Glad to Meet His Ghost ~ A Pic(k)-up Lines One-Shot

Glad to Meet His Ghost

I know it will sound crazy. I honestly used to be a normal person before that moment. I am not sure what I am considered now though. You see, it felt like my eyes were playing tricks on me. I started seeing a girl where before there was none. For a while I thought it’d go away as soon as I got a good night’s rest. Turns out it’s more of a permanent glitch. I truly keep on seeing her.

Natalie put her pen down and stared at the nonsense she was writing in her diary. What in the world am I thinking? If anyone sees this, they’ll send me straight to some nuthouse.

“Ugh… I have to get it out though. It’s driving me nuts!” she muttered to herself.

“Hm? Did you say anything?” asked her father, looking at her over his newspaper.

“What? Nothing!” she hurried to say and shook her head.

Right. Writing all sorts of crazy in my diary on the floor of our living room. Really smart. Good thing Dad isn’t peeking what I’m writing.

She stubbornly got hold of her pen again. Hmmm… let’s see…

It was a typical afternoon and I was done with classes, so I had taken the train back home. Fumio was there too. He was talking on the phone, but even though I was standing right next to him I didn’t understand a word. He was always speaking in Japanese on the phone when he wasn’t in class. How odd. He never seemed to have any friends when I saw him. And he couldn’t be calling someone in Japan so often either, right? The bills would be huge. Anyway…

He got off three stations before our neighborhood. He and I lived with a couple of blocks’ distance. I had seen him doing it in the past, but this time it really pricked my interest. I must sound like a stalker doing that, don’t I?  Anyway, he was walking down the street, talking on his phone, and all of a sudden, a little girl was right next to him, skipping happily and holding his hand.

She had appeared out of nowhere, I swear. She looked like she was an elementary school student, had long, black hair and pale skin, similar to Fumio’s. His sister? I don’t think so. If he had one, I would have known. He’s been living with his grandparents ever since he moved in the neighborhood. Stupidly enough I ran to his direction, calling at him. The little girl ran off in the crowd and Fumio after staring at me for a long moment followed her.

The moment Natalie heard her mother’s footsteps as she walked into the room she snapped her diary shut and stood up. “I’m going out. Do you need anything?”

“Oh, we’ve run out of milk and butter,” her mother said.

“Fine, I’ll go buy some.”

Natalie ran to her room, quickly threw her diary in the drawer under her desk, put on the first clothes she saw lying about and rushed out the back door. It was obvious that her mother had attacked the garden recently. Yellow and orange leaves were neatly piled in a corner. Mrs. Tilia was known for her obsession of racking the yard every day, all autumn long. It was already getting dark, so the her canaries had already quieted, sleeping or making themselves comfortable in the fake branches in their cages. Natalie never liked birds much, but those canaries were there since forever. Her mother loved them.

She took her bike and exited the yard. The air was chilly, and the neighborhood quiet. They didn’t get many cars driving around at that hour, except the ones of the neighbors, so Natalie barely paid any attention as she rode down the street. A couple of squares away from her house, Natalie pushed the brakes hard, coming to a halt with a loud squealing sound. The lights in Fumio’s house were on.

Today the weather was just like the day he first moved here, wasn’t it? she mused, her mind already replaying the whole memory.

* * * * *

It had been a Saturday, twelve years ago. Natalie was riding her bike on her way to a friend’s home, like she used to do every weekend. There had been a moving truck parked outside the new house, and it had drawn her attention. An Asian couple standing next to the truck, talking with the movers. The woman had been wearing a funny looking robe, which a while later Natalie learned that was a kimono. But what had drawn her attention back then had been that boy sitting on the pavement, holding a piece of paper.

He had pitch black hair and small eyes, completely different from all her friends. He was about her age. He was making a face, as if he was about to cry. Maybe he had lost his friends because of the move, Natalie had thought back then and had decided to go introduce herself.

 “Hi, there!” she called from across the street, waving her hand happily. At first it was as if the boy hadn’t noticed her at all. “Hey!” she called again.

Slowly he lifted his head, as if he’d finally heard her. He had such a sad expression on his face that it startled her. She still remembered clutching her fists, as if it would somehow make her braver, and walking towards him. From up closer she heard the couple speaking in a language she couldn’t understand.

“I’m Natalie,” she’d told him stretching out her hand.

He had stared at it for a few seconds, then at her face. He didn’t look like he was intending to stand up and introduce himself either. Natalie was starting to believe he didn’t understand what she was saying.

“Do you speak English?”

He kept starting at her. Eventually he nodded. He stood up, folded the paper, and put it in his pocket. “Fumio,” he muttered.

“That’s your name?”

He nodded. Finally, he speaks! Among others, she had been a rather impatient child, and Fumio’s slow replies were really getting on her nerves.

“Let’s be friends then. I live nearby.”

The Asian woman approached them, placing a hand over Fumio’s shoulder. She smiled at Natalie a little and asked Fumio something in their strange language. In return, Fumio shook his head. Her smile faded away and she looked at him in disapproval.

“I… I cannot,” he said in broken English and ran inside the house.

* * * * *

I’d better leave. I truly am starting to feel like I’m stalking him now, thought Natalie, and started for the super market. She had to hurry; it was nearly closing time. When she locked her bike it was 20:50 already.

Fumio has always been a weird one though, she thought, as she tried to decide which butter to buy. He moved here with his grandparents from Japan. I never learned about his parents, why he moved, why he always has this cold, gloomy look on his face. He never approached anyone at school. Even now that we’ve graduated and are going to the same college, he hasn’t tried talking to me even once.

She finally picked a package of butter and moved on to the milks.

Why do I even bother? It’s almost becoming an obsession.

“This seriously can’t be healthy…” Natalie murmured to herself as she placed the groceries on the counter. The cashier looked at her curiously for a second, and Natalie’s cheeks turned a bright shade of pink. “Don’t mind me,” she said shyly, as she paid and hurried out of the store.

Jee. I should just stop speaking my mind out loud. I’ve almost convinced myself that I’m a nutcase.

* * * * *

Fumio was lying down on his futon, staring at the origami cranes hanging from his ceiling.

It seems that she followed me today. But why? And why did I run off? That was so stupid. I must have looked like a total idiot.

“Fumio! Help me out! Come on!” Mariko grabbed his arm and kept pulling it over and over again.

“Fine, fine. Cut it out. Are you trying to rip my arm off? I’ll help you.”

A wide smile spread across her face. “Good then.” Satisfied, she went back to making paper boats.

“How many more are we supposed to make?” Fumio asked. There were already piles and piles of paper boats covering the table. “Those seem more than enough to me.”

“No! We need more! More!” Mariko cried stubbornly. “The TV said it’s going to rain, so we need lots to put in the ponds!” she continued excitedly and put a lollipop in her mouth.

“Hey, it’s not good for you to eat this many. Your teeth will…” Fumio started to say.

“Hm?” Mariko looked at him with her childish eyes. Her face resembled a frog’s the way her cheeks puffed up.

“Never mind.” It’s not like anything of this sort can happen to you anymore. “What colors should I use?”

“Take the green ones. And the pink,” she said mischievously.

“You’re giving me the pink ones again?” Fumio scoffed.

“Of course. I don’t like pink.”

“Then why do we need pink boats?!” he exclaimed.

“We can’t leave pink out. We need all colors!”

“I just can’t beat your logic, Mar–” Fumio’s sentence was cut as his bedroom door opened.

“Dinner is ready,” his grandmother said. “Come eat with us, Fumio. I made your favorite.”

“Oh, yum. I’ll be right there.” Fumio stood up and Mariko followed. “No, no, no. We’ve talked about this. You stay here. I’ll be back.”

“I want to eat too!” Mariko scowled and clutched Fumio’s sleeve. “I’m coming.”

“No, you stay here. I’ll be back.”

Mariko fell on the futon, face-first on the pillow. “You’re so unfair!”

“Shh. I’ve been doing you every favor. Won’t you do this one little thing for me? Make some more boats and I’ll be back.”

She half-smiled. “I’ll get you back for it later. Don’t forget.”

“Sheesh. At times like that you’re totally creepy,” Fumio murmured as he closed the door behind him. His grandparents would probably not notice Mariko either way, but he wanted to be on the safe side either way. After all… she seemed like she had seen her this afternoon at the station. What if she truly had?

“What took you so long? Your dear old Ojii-chan is hungry. Take a seat already,” Mr. Fukazawa, Fumio’s grandfather said with a toothy grin.

“I’m sorry. I was… uh, on the phone.”

“Oh, that girlfriend again?” Mrs. Fukazawa teased.

“Obaa-chan!” Fumio called, turning red. “There’s no girlfriend.”

“Of course there is. Don’t be shy. I’ve wanted to meet the girl that’s stolen your heart. You talk to her for hours on the phone. You can’t fool your Obaa-chan.”

“I… I am not talking to my girlfriend on the phone, I tell you!” To further prove his point, Fumio grabbed his chopsticks and stuffed his mouth with steaming rice until he couldn’t speak even if he wanted.

“Hai, hai. Whatever you say,” his grandmother agreed, smiling. “Take some of these too. I made them especially for you,” she continued, and filled his dish with food.

“Obaa-chan! Ican’teatallofthose!” exclaimed Fumio, his mouth still full of rice.

“Tsk, tsk. Don’t speak with your mouth open. What would your girlfriend say if she saw you now?”

His grandpa just snickered and went back to his food. “Can’t fool her, kid. Just bring over the girl to meet her already.”

It’s pointless. They’re both so certain I have a girlfriend. I can’t even begin to explain what Mariko is!

Fumio fell quiet.

But what was Natarie doing back there? The thought kept coming back to him, over and over again, overlapping everything he tried to focus on.

She was always somewhat different than the rest. She blended easily, made friends, was part of the group, both in school and out of it. Still, it looked like she was trying to get him to participate as well. When nobody asked to have him on their team in P.E. she did and when the others teased him she stood up for him.

Really odd, considering I always treated her with apathy in the least.

Even Mariko seemed slightly interested in her, whose world revolved around Fumio.

“Thanks for the food,” Fumio said, picked up his dish and dumped it in the sink. “I’ll go to bed early.”

His grandmother nodded and gave him a knowing look. At least the light coming underneath his door was giving him away. “Goodnight, sweet dreams,” she told him nonetheless.

Mariko jumped on him as soon as he stepped inside, forcing him to stumble. “Hey! Give me a sec, we’re going to f–” started Fumio before the inevitable fall came. “–all.”

Mariko stood up, skipping around the room on one foot, giggling all the way.

Fumio rubbed his neck, which had banged hard against the wall. “You’re gonna kill me one of these days, you know.”

“Everything alright in there, dear?” came his grandma’s voice from the kitchen.

“I’m fine, just tripped. I’m still alive!” As Fumio pushed himself to his feet, he noticed the paper boats on his desk had multiplied by the thousands. “You know, I won’t be carrying all those tomorrow with me.”

“Awww! Come on, Fumio!” complained Mariko.

“No. You take a bag and carry them. There are some books I want to take tomorrow, I won’t have space for all.”

“You’re so unfair.” Mariko sat on the cushions on the floor with an annoyed look on her face.

“I’m a grown-up. Unlike you. And I’m heading to bed. Goodnight.” Since Fumio was already wearing his pajamas, he just turned off the light and slid under the covers.

“Me too, me too!” Mariko lied down, pressing her back against Fumio’s.

Fumio glanced at her over his shoulder. “You’re going to sleep?”

Mariko shook her head. “I’m not feeling sleepy.” She lifted her hand, revealing the GameBoy she was holding.

Fumio muffled a yawn and nodded.

“Does it bother you?” she asked shyly.

“No, it’s fine. You do it every night after all. Just–”

‘Turn off the volume. Yeah, I know.”

Fumio turned back to his side. “Good then. Good night.”

* * * * *

Natalie didn’t see Fumio on her way to class. He wasn’t at the bus stop when she passed it with her bicycle, neither in the train station when she waited to board. She was wondering if he was playing hooky for the day.

She sat in the auditorium, waiting for the first period to begin. She would have loved to have slept in late, but it was impossible with her mother telling her to get up every five minutes. She lazily took out a pen and a notebook, although she’d probably take no notes. Neurology 101 was the most boring class ever. And the professor wasn’t helping – at all.

Slowly the room started filling, and Fumio made his appearance.

So he came after all.

He looked like he did every day. Somewhat gloomy, somewhat sad, and alone.

Maybe I did imagine that little girl after all.

For a second he looked up at her. It only proved to be him searching for empty seats. He moved to the other side of the auditorium, far away from her reach and view.

Not today, mister! I want to talk to you!

She picked up her stuff , pushed through the arriving students and she followed him. There were more than enough empty seats for her near Fumio. He always picked the less crowded places. She sat right next to him. At first he didn’t seem to notice her at all.

That is so like him, Natalie thought. Time to break the ice.

“Good morning.”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. He soon turned back to his usual gloomy expression though. “Oh. Good morning.”

“How are you?”

He stared at her for a second, as if considering what he was going to say. I didn’t ask such a difficult question, dammit! “I’m good.”

“Nice.” Ugh… not even a “ how about you”?!

Natalie was thinking of a new way to attempt starting a conversation, but before she had the chance, the professor started talking. Fumio took notes as if his life depended on it. He was totally absorbed. Natalie was so sleepy that she barely understood half the things she listened. Instead, she leaned her head on her arm, following Fumio’s pencil as he scribbled down a mixture of Latin and Japanese characters.

Your notes make absolutely no sense, you know… how can you think in two languages at once anyway?

Sometimes she thought she heard a whispering voice coming from Fumio’s side, but Fumio’s lips weren’t moving. The rest of the surrounding seats were vacant. It was just her, Fumio and his coat and bag on the next seat. For a blink of an eye she thought she saw the coat move.

Silly. How can a coat move? thought Natalie and rubbed her sleepy eyes. Fumio seemed to notice and he scribbled down some more.

Eventually the incredibly boring lecture was over and the auditorium emtpied. Natalie stared at the coat. It moved again!

“Class is over,” Fumio said, standing up. He followed Natalie’s look to his coat, thoughtful for a second, then picked it up. Of course there was nothing other than Fumio’s bag underneath.

“Uh? Um, yeah, I know.” Natalie stood up as well. By then, Fumio was already halfway to the door. “Hey, wait!”

He turned around, frowning. “What?”

“Um… you remember who I am, right? I mean, we know each other.”

“You’re Natarie.”

“My name is Natalie. With an ‘L’,” Natalie corrected him.

“Right. My bad. I can’t pronounce ‘L’ very well. We don’t have that sound in my language,” replied Fumio coldly.

“But you just said it just fine!”

“I suppose I can’t say it in your name only then.” Natalie noticed a faint smile on his face. Was he messing with her?

“Fine. So is my name all you remember about me?”

Fumio shrugged. “There’s a few more things. We were in the same class at school. You wore piggy tails until high school. There was this one time in P.E. that you fell and–”

Natalie remembered that one time far too well and turned red at just the thought that Fumio had noticed something like that. “Okay, okay, you remember me. Got it.”

“So, Natarie, what do you want?”

“Wh– uh, what do I … Hmm… we haven’t talked in a while…” We’ve never had an actual conversation! “… and I wanted to see how you’re doing. We go to the same college for two years now and we rarely see each other. You shouldn’t be a stranger. It’s not logical, is it?”

“I find it perfectly logical. We never were friends,” stated Fumio matter-of-factly.

“Right…” Okay, cut to the chase, otherwise he’ll leave you behind and run off before you ask him! “Fumio?”

“Yes?”

“Why did you run away when I called you yesterday at the station?”

“At what station?”

“Eh? At the train station! I saw you, with that little girl, and then you two just–”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t take the train yesterday. You must have mistaken me for someone else. Now if you’d excuse me, I have somewhere to be.” Fumio’s steps became more and more rushed and soon enough Natalie was left behind.

“Whaaaat? He wasn’t even there he says… am I going crazy or is he trying to drive me crazy? He definitely was there… I saw him… or didn’t I? So confusing!” yelled Natalie at the empty corridor. A confused woman peeked at her from a door, and she felt totally self-conscious. “Don’t mind me,” she said awkwardly and ran down the stairs quickly.

* * * * *

“That was close…” Fumio whispered once there was enough distance between Natalie and himself.

“What was?” Mariko asked, skipping out of an empty room cheerfully.

“Natarie came to me asking questions. Good thing you weren’t around.”

“What does it matter if I were there?”

“Well… she may have known you were there,” admitted Fumio.

Mariko’s face lit up. “No way! She would? Aaah, it would have been so nice if somebody other than you cared about where I was!” hummed Mariko and pulled a lollipop from her pocket. “Not that you’re boring, but you know.”

“I don’t really. And it’s not a good thing. If you see her coming near me, warn me. And go somewhere away too, okay?”

“Fine, fine. You worry too much. Fumio is stupid! Stupid! Fumio is so, so stupid!” sang Mariko. He tried to make her quiet down, even though nobody else would hear her.

“Please, Mariko, keep it down.”

Mariko grinned, waving around her lollipop. “Fumio is stuuupid!” she continued to sing in a louder voice.

“I’m going to class. You can sit here and sing all you like.” Fumio glanced over his shoulder as he pretended to walk away.

“Me too, me too!” Mariko yelled, jumping on Fumio’s back.

“Ouchhh! Mariko, you’re heavy!”

“You’re too weak!” she complained as she jumped on the ground.

“Maybe if you stopped eating those lollipops…”

“Never!” Mariko called as she ran ahead. “You can’t catch me!”

“I’m not racing.” I’m already beat anyway. I’m like your babysitter. It’s exhausting.

For the rest of the classes, Fumio tried to avoid Natalie. He stepped into the classrooms in the last minute so she couldn’t change seats, and when Mariko sat down next to him he dropped his coat on her head to hide her. Natalie was suspicious of that coat since that morning, but Mariko wasn’t there when it was time for Fumio to take his coat.

In the last two periods Mariko was completely gone anyway. The rain had started, and she was outside, filling all the little ponds with her paper boats. There was a pretty good chance he wouldn’t see her again until he got home. She got like this in rainy days.

At last the rain seemed to have stopped, so Fumio headed to the library. He had forgotten his umbrella, but he really needed to borrow some books. He had no idea how he would keep them dry though.

“Fumio!” Natalie called at him from the classroom door.

Oh, no. She found me.

“What is it?” He didn’t know how longer he could put up the act about Mariko, but the whole thing was driving him mad. Why was Natalie sticking to him like a leech?

“Nothing much. You just disappeared on me earlier. Where are you heading?”

Fumio narrowed his eyes. “The library.” Just tell me you’re allergic to books already.

“Oh, great. I wanted to get a book as well. Let’s go together.”

Damn.

To Fumio’s relief, Natalie hardly tried to speak at all during their walk to the library. Above them the sky was roaring with thunder, and Fumio worried every time about the rain starting again. As soon as Natalie got lost behind some bookshelves in the library he picked up hurriedly the books he needed, hoping she’d lose him.

“You’re done too?” asked a far too familiar voice though as soon as he reached the librarian’s desk.

Fumio swallowed down his annoyance and nodded.

When he was handing the books over, the loudest clap of thunder so far echoed. “Aww, it’s raining again.” Natalie was looking for something in her bag.

“You go ahead. I think I’ll stay back until the rain lets up.”

“What are you talking about? It could be raining until tomorrow.”

“I can’t fit my books in the bag. They’ll get wet.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Natalie, pulling him up. “We can share my umbrella.”

“No, really, you don’t have to–”

“But I do. Come on!”

Fumio didn’t have time for another objection. They were already crossing the street and heading for the train station. How did it end up like this? he wondered.

Natalie wasn’t forcing a conversation to him this time. Instead, she was listening to music from her MP3. Somehow, this was maddening Fumio more than her questions. They came to a halt at a traffic light. Natalie was tapping her foot against the wet pavement, while rain pelted on the umbrella above them. Fumio looked up at it. Mariko would love its fuchsia color. She had one just like this back home. Fumio always forgot to take an umbrella even on rainy days, so he ended up tucking himself under Mariko’s, getting laughs from all the boys in his class. Mariko always supported him though. She’d yell at everyone until they would let Fumio alone.

“Come on, slowpoke. Stop staring at my umbrella like that. The light’s green,” said Natalie, nudging him on the side.

He kept up with her easily. “So… why did you want to learn about the girl?”

“Come again?” asked Natalie, taking off her headphones.

“The girl you were asking about. Why are you interested?”

“Are you talking about the girl I saw with that other Asian I mistook you for?”

Fumio glanced at her face with narrowed eyes. She was grinning. “Yes. The one you thought that was me.”

“Of course.” Her grin got a little wider. “I suppose this other Asian guy looked lonely. I was surprised to see him with somebody else, let alone a little girl.”

“But it was definitely not me,” Fumio reminded her.

Natalie was nodding. “I got that. There’s a bunch of Asian guys that look like you in the area.”

“Natarie…? Are you making fun of me?” At the sound of her mispronounced name she puffed her cheeks.

“Me? Of course not,” she assured him with a look that said the exact opposite. “Okay, no, I don’t believe you. But I’m not pushing it. It’s fun talking to you in general. You always made me think you were some sort of shut-in. I’ll let you tell me about the little girl at your own time.”

“How are you so sure I’ll tell you eventually?”

“You could call it a hunch.”

“I can’t make any promises. But if I had to pick the most trustworthy-looking person from our class, it may have been you.”

Natalie stopped abruptly. “Really? I thought you didn’t even like me.”

Fumio shrugged. “I don’t know you well enough to say if I like you or not. But you don’t seem too bad.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Natalie said mistrustingly.

“You were a bit of a drama queen though,” added Fumio.

“A what?! Where did that come from?”

“There was this time when those two bullies from our class took something from me… what were their names? I can’t even remember. Anyway, you saw them and came barging in, yelling and screaming.”

“I… uh…” Natalie had started blushing. “I don’t remember that happening.”

“You don’t?” It was obvious that she was lying. Fumio remember it very clearly though.

* * * * *

It was about half a year after Fumio had moved from Japan, and we was starting to understand English better. He hadn’t tried approaching anyone and was always alone, staring at an old drawing of Mariko, or drawing something on his own.

Two boys from the other class, infamous bullies of his year, approached him.

“What’s up, Small Eyes? Are you looking at that baby drawing again?”

Fumio had slowly looked up at them, having no intention of answering.

“Did the cat eat your tongue? Answer me!” said the first, pushing him back.

Fumio glared at them once and then turned back to his drawing.

“Hey! Don’t ignore him!” demanded the second boy.

That was when Natalie had jumped into the scene. “Leave him alone! He hasn’t done anything to you!”

“And what do you care? It’s none of your business, Piggy Tails,” spat one of the boys.

While Fumio was looking at the drawing, pretending to ignore all three of them, the first boy grabbed his drawing. This had drawn Fumio’s attention, although he said nothing, just looked at the paper in the boy’s hand.

“Want it back?” Fumio kept staring. “Alright then. I suppose you can make one again.” And just like that, he had shred the drawing to pieces.

“You!” Natalie called and ran to the boy, trying to punch him. The boy though, was twice Natalie’s size and didn’t seem to feel her hits much. “Say,” punch, “you’re,” punch, “sorry!” another punch.

The boys just grinned. The other one took Natalie’s scarf and they both run off, chuckling.

“Why don’t you do anything?!” Natalie demanded furiously. “They ruined your stuff!”

“It’s okay,” said Fumio.

“It’s not okay! They–”

“It’s okay,” repeated Fumio. “Go take your scarf.”

“I can’t. They won’t give it back,” said Natalie with a pout.

“Then don’t ask for it. Sneak behind them and just take it.” Fumio remembered thinking that the kids at this school always made a big deal out of very small things. There were more important things you could lose than a drawing or a scarf. Didn’t any of them see it?

Natalie had seemed like she would have followed Fumio’s advice back then, only a while later she came back empty-handed. After that Fumio had gone to a teacher and she had taken over from that point on. Fumio didn’t know if Natalie had ever learned who had told the teacher, but after that she wasn’t bugged again.

* * * * *

“Well, I might remember it. But just a little,” admitted Natalie.  “But I couldn’t have been this dramatic.”

Fumio shrugged. “It depends on how you look at it.”

Soon they reached the train station and they parted ways. Natalie felt impressed with herself. She hadn’t expected to get so much out of Fumio. That had never happened before. Sure, he hadn’t admitted that there was a girl yesterday, but for a split second Natalie was sure she’d seen her again today anyway. This was progress.

“Sis, what are you drooling at the hall for? Come on in, close the door. You’re letting all the cold in,” called Natalie’s brother from the living room.

“Shut up, Mike,” Natalie growled. “I’m home!” she called.

“Yeah, we felt it. The house has dropped at least ten degrees by now,” Michael noted.

“I was telling that to Mom, smarty-pants,” she said and rushed to her room.

Michael wasn’t a bad kid really. He was descent – for an older brother. He had his moments, and looked out for her. He’d given her boyfriend the typical “You, look after my sister, or else…” lecture and all that too.

Natalie fell on her bed, exhausted. She had left her bike in campus to walk back home with Fumio. She wasn’t used to crossing this much distance on foot.

“My feet are throbbing. Ugh. I truly must be obsessing over the whole thing…” she murmured as she dozed off.

She was awoken much later by her ringtone. She jumped up and fell off her bed, looking around anxiously before realizing the source of the noise. “Okay, okay got it… where’s the fire?”

It turned out being a text from her boyfriend asking her to sleep over at his place, promising they’d get pizza for dinner. Natalie could never resist to some good pizza. And she hadn’t seen Kyle for the past week either.

I’ll be there around nine, she typed quickly and hit send.

She looked at the clock on her nightstand. It was already eight thirty.

“Mom! I’m going at Kyle’s! Don’t wait for me!” She stuffed a bag with the things she’d take with her: toothbrush, pajamas – well, the pajamas pretty much lost their point at Kyle’s home so she might leave them out – and the textbooks for the next day’s classes.

Natalie walked out in the garden, trying to step as little as possible in the muddy grass. Her mother had covered her beloved canaries’ cages with plastic to keep the rain from getting to them. Natalie searched for her bike in the dim light for a while, before she realized she’d left it locked at the campus. So the bus it is… yay.

While waiting at the bus stop, Kyle sent her a couple of texts checking where she was, and she told him to order pizza on his own until she came. When she arrived, Kyle was standing at the porch, waiting for her in boxers and a T-shirt.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, pulling her into a hug and kissing her.

She kissed him back for a second and then pulled away. “Get in, get in! What are you doing outside like that! You’ll catch a cold.”

“Jee, Nat, don’t get all momsy on me. I’ve missed you,” he murmured and was all over her again.

“Kyle, give me a second. I want to put my things down. Is the pizza here?”

Kyle crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her in annoyance. “I am getting the feeling that you might care about the pizza more than you care about me.”

Natalie smiled. “Of course not silly. As soon as I’ve had my dinner I’m yours for the night.” She dumped her bag at the hall and sat down on the couch. In the TV there was some sports show. “I hope you’re not planning to watch that.”

Kyle joined her on the couch and placed the pizza box on the coffee table in front of them, on top of a few more pizza boxes. Natalie also noticed paper boxes from Chinese and a few beer bottles scattered around the room. “We can watch whatever you like,” he said, kissing her neck.

“Okay, good,” said Natalie with a smile and took the controller in one hand, and a slice of pizza in the other. “There’s a new Nikita episode tonight. This could do.”

Kyle nodded in agreement and reached out for some pizza as well.

“Oh, you know what? I started talking with that guy from my old class today. The Japanese one who’s picked the same major as I at college,” Natalie explained.

“That weirdo?” he asked between bites. “Why would you? He probably doesn’t even understand half the things you say.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Natalie frowned in confusion.

“Well, don’t these Asian people speak with ‘chin, chan, chon’ and stuff? He probably never talked to anybody because he hasn’t learned English properly.”

Natalie poured some of Kyle’s beer in a glass and had a sip. “That’s bull. Of course he speaks English. He’s been here for twelve years. And he probably went well in his exams as well since he got into a college.”

Kyle snorted. “Yeah, right. Those immigrants just take up space and steal the locals’ college spots.”

Natalie felt annoyed and pulled herself to the corner of the couch. “I disagree with you. Whoever has high enough grades should get into colleges, nationality shouldn’t be an issue.”

“And then people wonder why we’re full of Chinks around this country,” Kyle muttered and took some more pizza.

“Let’s just watch the episode, shall we?” Natalie said, deciding this conversation was a dead end.

Kyle was a nice guy, Natalie truly felt like he was a catch most of the time; he was good looking, fit, witty and fun to be around. He had almost dropped out of high school himself and joined the army for his mandatory service right away. Some disturbing ideas seemed to have entered his head since then. Natalie tried no mind to this though.

* * * * *

 In the morning Natalie woke up alone. Kyle had already left for work. Natalie quickly got up and dragged her feet to the kitchen. She was still sleepy, but the cleaning demon inside her was roaring to get out and clean the whole place. The room could use a bit of dusting, and there was an enormous pile of unwashed dishes in the sink. Cups with coffee leftovers were abandoned in various places around the kitchen, and the trash bag was so full it should have been thrown out a week ago.

“Yuck. I really would clean up some if I had the time. He’ll get roaches for roommates if he keeps this up.”

She washed merely the pan and made herself breakfast quickly. She had to hurry up. Still, the demon of perfectionist came out of her when she took a look at the bedroom in broad daylight. She did the basics: made the bed, threw away the trash Kyle had abandoned in the nightstand and put the TV remote next to the TV.

As she cleaned up though, an open book lying on the floor in a corner of the room caught her eye. She picked it up, turned it over keeping a finger between the pages, checked out the cover. She felt her face blushing when she saw a half-naked man and a woman embracing and the cheesy title “Hidden Desires”. The author was some random, totally unknown name.

“What’s that? Porn?” Natalie murmured, and went back to the previous page.

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with lust. She drew closer, all the way staring at his muscular chest. He looked at the intricate dragon pattern on his chest. A single thought crossed her mind. She wanted to lick his tattoo.

“Eh? Yikes!” squealed Natalie as the book fell on the floor. Her face felt so hot she was probably glowing in the dark by then. She felt so weird reading those stuff. It was completely different from doing them. “What the heck is that?!” called Natalie to the empty room. “Dammit, I lost the page…” She knelt down and picked up the book, closed it and placed it – cover down – on Kyle’s nightstand. “And for a moment I thought Kyle had decided to read a book or two. Sheesh.”

Afterwards she left, before coming across any more… surprises. Yeah, that’s enough for a day. I’m definitely not cleaning up his place. He should throw the red carpet for his new cockroach friends though!

She checked the time on her cellphone, and realized she was late. Incredibly late! Ugh! Run, Forest, run! she thought stupidly and ran to the bus stop.

* * * * *

Fumio has started acting differently. I think he’s slowly letting me in his routine. He waits for me at the beginning of class and saves me a seat. He even lent his notes. Half of it is Japanese, but he assured me I would get everything from the English part. I hope so. I wonder what all these Japanese are for then.

He told me a bit about his family too. I thought he might be living with his grandparents because of a bad divorce, when I asked though, he said, “I don’t think so. They must still be together.”

I think this isn’t good about me obsessing over Fumio though. I can’t stop talking about him. It happens all the time. At dinner with my family, on the phone with Jasmine, and even with Kyle. I usually stop around him, because he makes such a sour face when I mention Fumio.

Kyle has been acting a little weird lately too. He comes to pick me up from the bus stop, and then he’s all over me. It would have been romantic, if it didn’t feel like I’m with a completely different person. The Kyle I know is a laid-back person. Something about his recent behavior made him seem almost possessive. Even though I had decided not to clean Kyle’s house again, one morning I did. Just a little. He had a bunch of those cheesy titled porn books around the house and I found a brush at his bathroom. It didn’t look new, but I swear I hadn’t seen it again. I’m not going to jump to rushed conclusions, but something is off.

 “Natalie! Come in the kitchen!” her mother called.

She’ll probably have some chore for me to do, she thought grumpily, but went anyway. “I’m here,” said Natalie when her mother who was turned towards the oven didn’t pay any attention to her.

“Right, just stand to the side for a second. I need to get this to the table,” she said as she pulled a steaming apple pie from the oven. “After this cools down a bit, pack it up and take it to that friend of yours. It’s been years since these people moved here and nobody ever gave them a proper welcoming.”

“And what am I supposed to say to Fumio? ‘Hey there, and while you’re at it, here’s this pie because my mom didn’t give you any welcoming gifts twelve years ago?!’ That’s weird, Mom.”

“You’re exaggerating. Just give it to his grandma and say it’s from me.”

“Fine.” Behind the grumpy behavior Natalie was glad for it. She wasn’t sure if Fumio and his grandparents even liked apple pie, since Fumio always ate homemade Japanese food when they were together, but she wanted to visit Fumio sometime anyway.

Checking if the pie had cooled down in the stupidest way possible – touching it every few seconds – she had almost scorched her fingers by the time she was going to go. When she arrived to Fumio’s house, she ringed the bell and knocked on the door a couple of times with no reply.

“Hello? Anybody home?” she called, with no reply. “Hello?” she continued, stretching on her toes to look over the fence in the garden. “Fumio?” Again nothing.

I probably should have called before… she thought, feeling disappointed. How stupid. How do I always jump into things like that?

She was about to leave when she heard voices from the back of the garden. One could have been Fumio’s. Natalie thought for a second that it might be a bit rude to barge in like that, but she just opened the little fence door and walked around the house to the garden anyway. “Fumio? Is that you?”

On the other side of the garden the most unexpected sight was waiting for her. Fumio, laughing, while he jumped over flower pots and ran around trees chasing a little girl. Natalie stood there watching, at a loss of words.

So I wasn’t crazy after all, she thought as she observed the little girl. She had long, thick black hair and small, coal black eyes. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and was thin as a stick. Fumio stood a few meters away, watching silently.

Natalie smiled. “So I was right,” she said calmly. “Who is she?” she asked. “Your sister?”

“I’m an only child. She’s… a friend.”

 “I’m Mariko. Nice to meet you!” said Mariko excitedly but instead of a typical sort of greeting, she made a small bow to Natalie. Perhaps it’s some Japanese habit… thing, thought Natalie, amused.

“I’m Natalie, nice to meet you too,” she said, trying to imitate Mariko’s bow. She knew she had done something wrong when Mariko fell on the grass, laughing.

“Mariko!” called Fumio, and then said something in Japanese, but from his look Natalie could tell it was something along the lines of That’s rude!

Mariko stopped and stood up. “We’re playing hide-and-chase,” explained Mariko to Natalie. “But Fumio is not very good at catching me.”

“Hide-and-chase?” Natalie asked. She only knew hide-and-seek.

“You hide, and when I find you I have to chase and catch you to win,” Fumio explained.

“But you’re terrible at it!” called Mariko, sticking out her tongue. “You two go to hide. I’ll count!” said she and pushed them to the opposite direction of her hiding spot. “One, two, three…”

Fumio went to hide behind some bushes, but Natalie followed him. “What are you doing? We can’t both hide here. Go hide elsewhere,” whispered Fumio.

Natalie rolled her eyes. What are we now, kids? “Hey. I wanted to ask you… and I’ll go hide to some other spot. Who is Mariko? Some relative’s child?”

“No. We’re not related by blood.”

“But does she stay with you?”

“She hangs around here a lot. But she goes over to her parents.”

Huh? Weird. How old is she? Like six, seven? “So she lives nearby?”

Fumio shook his head. “Her home isn’t near. She just keeps me company a lot.”

Nothing’s making sense! Natalie thought her head was going to explode. Fumio’s answers told her nothing at all. Who’s this kid? Why does she follow Fumio around if they’re not related and she doesn’t even stay nearby?

“Ninety. Ninety-one, ninety-two, ninety-”

Natalie made a mad run for the hiding spot she’d chosen. She still had a lot of questions though, and was dying to get them answered.

Time passed insanely quickly. She hadn’t played children’s games for years, and somehow it felt really refreshing. Mariko was loud, and bold, and made a ruckus about everything, but in a good way. She asked Natalie a bunch of stuff about herself, what were her parent’s names, if she had siblings, when was her birthday, if she had a boyfriend. It was a head-on interrogation. Natalie had little contact with kids in Mariko’s age, except some cousins she sometimes baby-sat. Her mom’s pie lay forgotten on a table by the kitchen door until Fumio’s grandparents returned from the market.

They both greeted her with bows, similar to the way Mariko had, and his grandma invited Natalie in for lunch. Her English wasn’t very good, but they could understand each other fine.

Natalie was surprised by living room. Although the external was ordinary, the internal was as if she’d stepped into a foreign country. In the living room, there were mats – Fumio said they were named tatami – on the floor and there were sliding rice-paper doors separating the different rooms. The dining table was a surprise too. It was a square low table with cushions all around it. By the time Natalie and Fumio sat down his grandmother had already placed most dishes at the table; the foods seemed familiar, but she hadn’t eaten before any of them except the rice.

They all sat down on the cushions, and Natalie followed their lead. Mariko was farther away, jumping on the sofa, laughing all the way. Fumio’s grandparents didn’t seem the least worried about her. Fumio must have been a devil of a child, if they don’t mind Mariko, thought Natalie.

“What about M–” she was about to ask, but Fumio shook his head. Natalie frowned in confusion. “Why?”

“She’s not hungry. Don’t you see her?” he said, although in a suspiciously low whisper, as if he didn’t want somebody to hear.

Natalie found it odd, but she supposed it was okay. Another surprise found her when she was about to start eating. The only thing she had before her to eat were chopsticks. She observed how Fumio held his, how his grandparents caught stuff with theirs, hoping she wouldn’t make a fool of herself. She had eaten Chinese a couple of times, but she usually picked up a little something with the chopsticks once, just for the fun of it, and then went to get a normal fork.

It proved to be a disaster. They kept slipping from her hand, and she could hardly pick up a grain of rice at a time. Eventually, Fumio noticed.

“Obaa-chan… I think Natalie needs a fork and a knife,” he told to his grandma.

“Hooku, hooku…” murmured his grandma as she got up.

“Fork, Obaasan, it’s not hooku!” Fumio said.

“Hai, hai,” his grandma agreed, smiling at him. “You know best. We must have some forku somewhere…”

“Fork!” Fumio corrected again.

“It’s really no big deal,” Natalie said, a little too late. “I don’t want to get you in all that trouble, I can eat like that too.”

“Perhaps you’ll have finished by nighttime you mean,” Fumio teased.

Mariko was sitting on the floor, laughing, and Fumio’s grandfather chuckled too. “My chopstick handling isn’t this bad…” muttered Natalie with a pout, but things went more smoothly when she switched to fork and knife.

When they were done Fumio, Natalie and Mariko moved to Fumio’s bedroom, while his grandparents cleaned up the table – insisting they needed no help. Honestly they weren’t as old as most grandparents – Natalie’s were way past eighty-five, while Fumio’s barely looked like sixty.

As soon as Natalie walked in Fumio’s room, she stopped, gaping at everything again. Okay, this. Has. To. Stop. She forced herself to put it together and decided to just bombard Fumio with questions instead of yelling questions inside her head.

“Don’t you have a bed?” This was the most basic of the questions she had to ask. What was the purpose of a bedroom without a bed? She could see a desk, a chair, a closet, a low table with cushions and an incredibly high pile of various origami covering it, but nothing one could use to sleep.

“We have futons,” Fumio said.

Natalie looked around again, wondering if she had somehow missed it.

“It’s in the closet, silly,” Mariko said, giggling. “Obaa-chan always folds it up and puts it in there when Fumio is out. He never folds it or anything. He’s so sloppy.”

“You talk about sloppiness? What are all those on my table?!” Fumio asked, pointing at the origami.

Mariko smiled. “Well, that’s different.”

“Riiiight, and how about…”

Natalie stopped listening after a while, but she seriously enjoyed seeing those two together. It seemed like Fumio wasn’t as lonesome as she thought. Even though it was impressive how well he could communicate with a child as young as Mariko, somehow it felt like these two could understand exactly was going through each other’s minds every moment of every minute.

* * * * *

And so life goes on, wrote Natalie in her diary.

The other day, I made such a goof. When I greeted Fumio’s grandparents I called them Mr. Ojii-chan and Mrs. Obaa-chan. They were both looking oddly at me. Turns out those ojii-chan means grandpa and obaa-chan means grandma. It was so embarrassing!

Little Mariko is always all over the place. I don’t mind. I find it weird how anyone in class notices her even though she speaks loudly sometimes. Perhaps there are special circumstances and Fumio has permission to bring her over all the time. He never elaborates on where Mariko is from, and what her family is like, but there are definitely issues. I don’t know if her parents are taking a divorce, they’re mentally unstable or something, but there’s definitely something wrong.

Mariko always looks so happy though. She gets excited with the smallest things and loves Fumio so much. She teases him about anything and everything, hides his stuff, pulls his hair, folds his notes like origami and hides them in different places in his bag, but Fumio can’t get mad at her. He shrugs off everything she does with a smile. I find it kind of sweet.

Fumio is different too, now that I’ve met Mariko. He seems more relaxed. I knew that there was something he was trying to hide about his life, but I would have never imagined it was a child. He seems at peace when she’s around, even though she’s constantly noisy and hyperactive. I think I adore her too. I just can’t seem to be bothered, no matter how she acts.

Today I looked for old clothes to give to her. She always shows up wearing the same. Maybe because she stays at Fumio’s most of the time she doesn’t take another change of clothes. I have a lot I can give to her. And hairclips too. She always plays with my hair when I have hairclips on it, so she must like them. I can’t wait to see her reaction when I give them to her this afternoon.

Kyle is still acting weird. One moment he acts like crazy for me to sleep over at his place. If I say I can’t, or that I’ll come a little later than usual, he’s suddenly hysteric. Then he cancels on me saying something came up. I don’t understand what could possibly come up. They don’t call from work at night, and there can’t be so many special occasions in so little time. I just don’t understand what’s going through his mind. I’m so confused.

* * * * *

I gave Mariko the clothes. She almost drowned me with kisses. You’d think she hadn’t changed clothes in ages. I don’t want to think what is happening in Fumio’s room right now. When I was there she changed into every outfit, and by the time she was done the room looked like a war zone. I offered to help Fumio, but he said it’s okay. It looked like Mariko was planning to take out the clothes again as soon as we put them in the bag anyway.

Kyle called me out of the blue. AT 3AM! Luckily I was awake. He sounded weird again. I think it was excitement, but he said ‘he had to talk to me’ and that there was something ‘incredibly interesting that I absolutely had to hear’ and asked me to go over his house as soon as I can tomorrow. I might leave Fumio and Mariko early tomorrow after class and go straight to Kyle’s. It sounded important.

* * * * *

It was time. Natalie was going insane. Kyle had called another four times to make sure she was really coming. What was up? She stopped with Fumio and Mariko in front of the train station and they all bought some ice cream, but as soon as the train got there she took her bike and left.

She turned around the corner on Kyle’s street. She was trying not to go crazy over it, but it felt as if that bike just wouldn’t move fast enough. She just couldn’t imagine what was possibly this important.

Kyle was standing at the porch, waiting for her.

Okay, that really looks important then, mused Natalie.

She got off her bike and Kyle greeted her at the door with a kiss. “I ordered us some Chinese, to match the mood,” he announced, leading her inside with his arm wrapped around her waist.

“What mood? Do we have something special today? I mean it’s not some sort of anniversary I’ve forgotten or someth–”

“No, babe, it’s nothing like that. I just have some news, and I think you should really hear me out.”

“Okay, sure,” she said, trying to hide her impatience from her tone. “That’s why I came here right after classes for after all. I left in such a hurry that I barely had the time to say Fumio goodbye.”

“Fumio.” He made a face as he said the name. He always did. “Oh, the Nip, right.”

“Don’t call him Nip. It’s not nice.”

“Well, he is from Japan, isn’t he? I don’t get why you get so offended,” he defended.

“It’s the way you say it that bothers me.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll be nice. Sit down,” he said, leading her to the sofa. “Get some noodles. They seem tasty.”

Natalie filled a plate with noodles and setsuan pork, spring rolls and a couple of other things Kyle had gotten and made herself comfortable on the couch. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I will. I just have some talking to do first.”

Natalie shrugged. “Okay. I’m listening.”

Kyle smiled. There was something Natalie didn’t like about his smile. He was making a weird face. “So, I was passing by our friend, Fumio’s neighborhood yesterday, and decided to stop by and say hi.”

“But Fumio is not your fr–”

“Let me finish. You can say anything you like afterwards. So, it turns out you were out with him so he wasn’t home. His grandmother told me. She’s a chatty woman, this one. Although her English is quite insufferable.”

“Kyle, what did you–”

He shook his finger. “I already told you to let me say the whole thing first.”

This is bad. What the hell did he go and do? She was starting to get angry. Her heart was beating like crazy. She wouldn’t find out if he didn’t finish his story though, so she tried to keep quiet. She couldn’t bring a bite to her mouth though and the plate ended up sitting on her laps, and the food started getting cold, forgotten as it was.

“I said I was Fumio’s friend and was looking for him. She served me tea and I found out some quite interesting things. He is really messed up, you know?”

Natalie felt her hands clutching into fists. How is he saying something like that? He doesn’t know the first thing about Fumio!

“Poor orphan Fumio.” Kyle’s smile was starting to turn into something very ugly, twisted.

“What are you talking about?” Natalie felt heavy. Fumio wasn’t an orphan! Sure he lived with his grandparents but he had said– “I don’t think so. They must still be together.” Did he mean– Natalie’s eyes widened in shock.

“They must have been incredibly stupid to have managed to get themselves killed in their own house. Maybe the old hag meant they committed suicide, who could tell with the way she could speak? They even took his girlfriend to the grave with them. Crazy Nip people. He’s still not over her, that’s why he’s been a nutcase ever since he came here.”

His… girlfriend? Fumio was just a kid when he moved out of Japan. What was this nonsense? “You’re… you’re lying! What you’re saying is bull–” She put her untouched dish on the table and stood up, all so fast she barely understood how they happened. “Why would you say such horrible things?! Why are you making such a story up?!” yelled Natalie, feeling her whole body shaking.

Kyle stood up, and for the first time Natalie felt him towering over her. He spoke calmly though. “I’m not lying. Go ask that Nip, he’ll tell you all about it! His chatty grandmother told me after all! I just thought you should know what he’s hidden from you, because he’s a messed-up, big liar! I wonder if there’s any hint of truth in what he’s told you.

“You are charmed by his orient habits, and his bed-less bedroom, and all the things he does differently, but have you ever considered it might all be an act? He’s fooling you! You’re my girl and I wanted to knock some sense into you before it’s too late! Don’t trust him!”

At that moment Natalie lost it. She didn’t know what demon got into her, she had never once been so violent in her life. She shoved Kyle with all her strength. It merely caused him to stumble, but the look on his face said he hadn’t seen it coming.

“And why did you go digging up other people’s business?! Did you think I’d be interested? Was that the stupid mood that Chinese food would match with? You made such a fuss to tell me how terrible my choice of friends has been?!

“I know… maybe I am indeed choosing all the wrong people. Maybe the one I shouldn’t trust is you! Are you supposed to care about me, when hurt me like that?!”

That horrible smile had finally been whipped off his face. Natalie felt fat teardrops falling and staining her shirt, and she had been balling her hands into fists so hard her nails were biting into her skin. She couldn’t stand there another second. She stormed out of the house, grabbing her bag, but having no patience to bother with her bike. She was trembling so hard she couldn’t drive it anyway. He could have him for all she cared!

Natalie got home in the black of the night, having walked all the way. She felt terrible. She dropped her bag in the hall and ran into her room without speaking to anyone. Her knees gave out in front of the bed, and she curled under the covers in her clothes. She heard her mother coming in a few times, speaking to her, but she didn’t reply. She ignored her brother and father too when they tried.

All she could think about was Fumio.

Was this why you were so sad back then? Was this why you never tried talking with anyone? Was this why you said I was a drama queen?

She understood now. It didn’t matter if his parents died in some tragic accident, or if they chose to take their own lives. He had lost them both at once and this was indeed far more tragic than anything Natalie had ever experienced.

She couldn’t believe what Kyle had said about a girlfriend though. That was made up. Why would he say that? Was Kyle this jealous of Fumio? Did he think she was falling for him and wanted to keep her from getting more involved? Why was Kyle so mean? He made such an atmosphere to just fill her up with bitter words?

Eventually the world seemed to stop. Her mind turned blank. Her sight turned blank. She fell asleep.

* * * * *

When morning came, her eyes were swollen. Even the sunlight coming through the window seemed to hurt her.

Sunlight? What time is it?

She jumped out of bed. Her alarm clock read 12:31.

“Oh, Nat, you’re up,” said Mrs. Tilia from the door.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Natalie was surprised at the sound of her voice. It was hoarse, and her throat felt sore, as if she’d sat in the pouring rain for hours and had caught the worst of colds.

“You didn’t look well. I thought you could use a day off. Come to the kitchen. I’ve made you something to eat.”

Natalie got off the bed and slowly reached the kitchen. She felt as if she’d gained a hundred pounds overnight. All she could think was: What am I going to tell Fumio when I see him?

She forced a couple of bites down, but it proved impossible to eat. She wasn’t hungry. She found her bag at the hall, picked it back and went back to her room. She found her cell phone full of calls. There were 27 unanswered calls from Kyle.

“Screw you,” muttered Natalie in that hoarse stranger’s voice, and clicked the back button. She had a few texts as well. She didn’t bother opening those from Kyle and moved on to Fumio’s.

Sent at 8:37: You’re late again :P I’m sitting at the back of the auditorium, you’ll notice us. Mariko is wearing that fluffy dress you brought her.

Sent at 9:03: Well done, you missed first period. Don’t try coming in late, wait outside, the professor is in a bad mood. He almost sent his chair flying to the previous student who tried.

Natalie half smiled.

Sent at 10:24: Are you alive over there? Mariko is putting those blasted hairclips all over my hair. HELP!

Sent at 10:30: Yeah, I need help! I can’t put that big hairclip with the bees on Fumio’s head, he keeps taking it off! :D :P :3 :)

Natalie could tell the last message was from Mariko. There must have been a fight for her to get Fumio’s cellphone and type a whole message. She found herself grinning at the last message. Mariko was going crazy over her hairclips and kept putting a bunch on Fumio’s head while he was asleep. It drove him mad.

Fumio is my fiend. I should just talk to him. I can’t base on that bogus Kyle said yesterday. They all sounded like such lies.

She started writing a reply. Sorry, I wasn’t feeling well. Come by my house later? I’d like to ask you something.

The reply came to her almost right away. OK see you there. Feel better soon.

Natalie spent the rest of her morning trying to figure out how she would ask Fumio all the things she wanted. She had no clue how to even start the conversation though. Absolutely none at all.

“Sneak attack!!!!!!!!” Before she could react, she was squished against her mattress and her brother was on top of her.

“Mike! Can’t… breathe… dying… get… off!”

Laughing, Mike rolled over. “Are you feeling any better?” he asked, ruffling her hair.

“I think I did. Until you tried to make a human splash out me.”

“Well, it was a sneak attack.”

“Sneak attacks require sneaking.”

“Details! Details! You always stick to the little details!” He laughed again. “So tell your big bro what’s up. I thought you fell into a comma or something yesterday. What got into you?”

“I had a fight with Kyle.”

“Like a stupid fight of the sort, ‘You always pick what movies we get to watch together!’” he asked in a girly tone.

“Not even close!” exclaimed Natalie, slamming her pillow on Mike’s head. “Do people even fight over these things? No. It was pretty serious. I think we broke up.”

“Does he know?”

Natalie shrugged. “I hope he got the message. I’ll spell it out for him later if he likes. I think I should go get my bike from his place too. I left it there last night.”

“Want me to do it? I can tell him a thing or two about treating a lady properly.” Mike grinned and showed his fist.

“Stupid!” she called and hit him again with the pillow. “Thanks, but no. I’ll handle it later.”

“But if you need anything you should tell me. I haven’t had a good fight in a long time.” All those manly hormones are asking to be released you know?” said Mike playfully and punched his left fist to his right palm.

“Yeah, right, manly man, I got it. Now you and your testosterone should get out of my room, Fumio is coming over and I should change. Out, out, out!” said Natalie, pushing her brother all the way to the door.

* * * * *

“I hope Natarie is feeling well now,” Mariko said, as they got off the bus. “She never misses a single day.”

“Yeah, that’s true. I hope everything’s alright,” agreed Fumio.

He climbed up the steps to the front door and rang the bell. Quickly the door opened, and a guy twice as tall as him stood on the other side.

“Um… hi. I am–” he started hesitantly.

“Fumio, right? Man, I was wondering what you’d be like! Natalie never shuts up about you. Come on in, I’m Mike, Natalie’s sister.”

“Nice to meet you,” Fumio said politely.

“Let’s drop the formalities and get to the chase. I know you and Natalie are really close, so I should warn you, you hurt my little sister and I–”

“Mike, leave him alone!” Natalie called from down the hall. “Jeez, you’re a public hazard.” She hurried to grab Fumio’s hand and take him away from her brother. “I hope he didn’t say anything weird.”

“What weird? I was just about to give your new boyfriend a little warning!” said Mike with a grin.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Natalie called as she led Fumio through a kitchen and out into the garden.

Mariko was already standing in front of the back door with a pout on her face. “Your brother shut the door in my face!” she complained. “He didn’t even notice me!”

“No way! I’m so sorry, Mariko, give me a second, I–”

Fumio held her back. “No, just let it be. It’s okay. She… she was standing on the side, so it’s only natural he didn’t notice her. How are you feeling?”

Natalie frowned. She looked dreadful, although Fumio wouldn’t say that to her face. Her eyes were puffed and red, and her voice was worse than a truck driver’s. “I’m good. I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed I suppose. She led them to a bench at the back of the garden.

“Whoa! Pretty!” Mariko said, fascinated with the millions of canaries at the cages above them. They were all chipping loudly, and Mariko was jumping in the air trying to reach them, her mouth gaping open.

“Do you like them? My mom raises them,” Natalie explained.

“They’re amazing!” Mariko started talking to them and giggled, playing around on her own.

“Um, Fumio… I… so I wanted to ask you… there is something I was told about you… I swear, I didn’t ask them to learn those things, but somehow I ended up knowing and I… I don’t know what to believe.”

“I don’t understand.” What things? What was she trying to say.

“There is somebody close to me, who went and dug out some things about your past. But I’m not sure what I should believe. I swear, I didn’t ask them to look for those, and I had no intention of learning anything about you that way.”

“What kind of things?”

“Um… they told me about your parents.”

Could it have been that guy Obaa-chan was talking about? “I see… Obaa-chan is so naïve. She told me she spoke to some ‘friend of mine’ but I thought she’d just had a funny dream or something. I don’t know what you learned exactly… but do you want to hear the whole story?”

Natalie nodded right away. “I don’t believe things are the way I was told. Some things… some things didn’t make any sense.”

Fumio nodded. “Even if Obaa-chan spoke, I don’t know what she could have explained properly in English. Very well. If you want I’ll tell you.”

Natalie nodded. “Wait a sec. Where did Mariko go?”

Fumio glanced over his shoulder. Mariko was nowhere to be seen. “She must have gone… home.”

“Home?” Natalie asked, sounding perplexed.

Fumio sighed. “It will probably make more sense when I’m done telling you.”

“Alright.”

Fumio took in a deep breath and started. “It happened about twelve years ago, back when I was still in Japan. It was a weekend and I had gone out into the neighborhood, looking for something to buy for my best friend. We were going to go to the Tanabata, the star festival, and I wanted to find her a hairclip to give it to her as a gift.

“We lived in a flat, and on the floor below lived my grandparents. My parents had ordered a new stove running on gas and there was a technician at home installing it, so I had gone to the market on my own.”

Fumio remembered it clearly. He had been so excited about the Tanabata. He had gone into every shop looking for the perfect gift. He had even tried some girly hairclips on his hair, trying to imagine what they’d look like on her. After careful consideration he had his favorite wrapped up and headed straight home.

“I was so impatient about giving the hairclip to my friend that I had first tried going to her house. Her parents told me though that she was waiting for me at my house. So I ran there next. I was so excited.”

He had been calling his friend’s name while knocking on the door. Nobody hadn’t answered though, no matter how hard he had knocked. Eventually he had taken the spare key from a pot next to the door and had opened himself.

“Hey, guess what, guess what!” Fumio remembered himself saying while dumping the key on the kitchen counter.

The lights had been on, but the house was dead quiet.

“Mom? Dad? Hello?”

He had walked towards the kitchen and that was when he had noticed something was wrong. He had first seen his mom. She had been on the floor, lying on the kitchen tiles, as if sleeping.

“Mom? Mom!” he had kept on calling. He had tried everything. He shook her, he yelled at her, he shook her some more. “Dad! Dad, something’s wrong with Mom!”

His dad had never replied either. He found him fallen from his chair with the newspaper still in his hand.

“I couldn’t wake him up either,” continued Fumio. He had been staring at his hands all the time. “At last, I stood up, wanting to call for help and I saw my friend. She was still sitting in her chair, her arms curled on the table and her head on top of them. She really looked peaceful. I was sure she was joking. She looked as if she had fallen asleep.”

“Wake up! It’s not funny anymore! You can drop the act now. Come on! I got you something! Open your eyes! I know you want to see what it is!” He had continued talking like this for at least two minutes. He remembered the monologue clearly. He had jingled the little gift in front of his friend, hoping to lure her out of her sleep. He couldn’t understand. “Fine, if you’re like that…” he had finally said and stormed out of the room.

“I knocked on my grandparents’ door. I told them something was wrong upstairs and nobody was waking up. Ojii-chan and I went up and Obaa-chan called the hospital.”

He stopped for a second and glanced at Natalie. He couldn’t tell for sure since her eyes were already red from before, but she looked as if she were trying not to cry.

“Natarie? Are you okay? Do you want me to continue?”

Natalie only nodded.

“Ojisan! They’re not waking up! Why isn’t anyone waking up? They’re joking right?” Fumio had kept on calling, pulling at his grandfather’s sleeve.

“Fumio, quick, open the windows! The windows!”

“He realized what had happened much sooner than I did. But it was already too late.”

“Oh, no…” was all Natalie could say. “Why? Why did it all happen?”

Fumio tried to remember. The rest had been a blur. The ambulance, the noise, the police. He had ran to his friend, shaking her, begging her to wake up. “You have to wake up! You have to see your gift! Come on, I know you’re joking!” he had said over and over again. But there were some details.

“It was the technician. When he installed the gas to the stove, he didn’t close the valve right. There was gas leaking in the room. Obaa-chan sad there was also a bad smell coming from the street around that time. So my parents had probably closed the windows to keep it out. But it also kept the gas in.”

“And why did you move out?” Natalie asked quietly. “Was it to forget?”

Fumio shook his head. “It was mostly so that the neighbors would forget. My parents were considered responsible for my friend’s death. Everyone pointed the finger at them, even though they had died too. My grandparents felt ashamed. They couldn’t stay there any longer, and neither could they face my friend’s parents. A good opportunity abroad appeared on Ojii-chan so we moved away.”

“That friend of yours… were you close?”

“We grew up together. We were always joined to the hip. We did everything together. She was loud and she was an incurable prankster. She was so noisy she woke up all the neighbors every morning. She was impossible, and she was my favorite person in the world. Her name was Mariko.”

Natalie just stared, in shock.

“She had a dog. They had bought it as a puppy when she was born, and they grew up together. It always knew when Mariko was approaching, it could tell when she was happy, when she was sad, when she was about to pull a prank. But it couldn’t understand it when she died. Her dog kept on crying, continuously, tirelessly, all day and all night, waiting for Mariko to return. That crying haunted me even more than the sight of Mariko sleeping on our kitchen table. I’ve hated dogs since. Hairclips too. If I hadn’t gone to buy that stupid hairclip that day, Mariko wouldn’t have…”

He felt Natalie’s hand on his. “It wasn’t your fault. You were just a child.”

Fumio had blamed himself for years for the accident. If he hadn’t gone for that hairclip alone none of those wouldn’t have happened. His parents would have taken him to the market right after the technician was done and nobody would be in the house with the leak at that time. Mariko would be sitting at her home, and she would have met him at the festival at night. Everything would have been different.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.”

Natalie nodded. “Can I ask one last thing?”

“About Mariko?”

She nodded again.

“She’s the same Mariko that died twelve years ago. A few weeks after I moved here, I started seeing her. She seemed to know what had happened before the Tanabata festival, but she didn’t talk about it. She was her usual loud self. But nobody else could see her. She was there only for me.”

“Does that mean…”

“If she’s a ghost? I suppose you could call it that. I thought she could have merely been a creation of my own grieving mind. Until you saw her. Why can you see her too, Natarie? I don’t get it.”

“I… I don’t know. I mean… um… thank you. Really thank you for telling me the true story. I need some time to think though.”

* * * * *

I got sick the day I came back from Kyle’s on foot. The day after Fumio told me the truth, I raised a fever. I haven’t seen him since then, although I’ve seen Mariko standing out the window a few times, waving happily. It’s impossible to think she’s dead. Probably my assumption of going crazy was correct after all.

I don’t really care. Even if she’s just a friction of Fumio’s imagination, which somehow ended up being a friction of my own imagination as well, I like Mariko. I like hers and Fumio’s company, and I’m glad to have met them. I don’t mind whatever she might be!

I should probably tell that Fumio. The fever let me get up only today, so for the past four days I haven’t talked to him at all. I should go get my bicycle from Kyle’s too. He has filled my call history and my textbox. I’ve read a couple of messages. Stupid warnings about Fumio, half-apologies and requests of going over, reminders that my bike is still there. I hope he doesn’t expect any joyous reunion when I get there. Is he completely delusional?

The next day Natalie went to Kyle’s home. The curtains were closed and it looked like no one was home.

Maybe that’s better. I’ll just take the bike and be on my way.

“Hey, Natarie,” said a voice that made Natalie turn around. Little Mariko was standing on the side of the street, wearing an old skirt and shirt of Natalie’s and a bunch of colorful hairclips on her hair.

“Mariko… hi.” Ugh, that sounded totally cold. Fix it, fix it! “What are you doing here? If Fumio around?”

Mariko shook her head. “He’s at home, he’s helping Obaa-chan with something. Where are you going?”

“Um… at my ex-boyfriend’s home. I have to take back something.”

“Can I come with? I’ll be real quiet, I promise. He won’t even notice me being there!” They exchanged a smile, both knowing how Mariko really meant it.

Quickly Natalie went in the garden and spotted her bike on the grass right below the window. She scribbled out a note saying she came over and took it and slid it under the door. Before she managed to go down the stairs though, the door opened, and Kyle stood there. His hair was messed up, even though it was the middle of the day, and he was only in his boxers.

“Natalie? You hadn’t told me you were coming over.”

“I’m not staying. I just came for my bike,” said Natalie coldly and continued going down the stairs.

“What? Come on, babe! I had asked you to come so we could talk. Didn’t you get my–”

“I got all your texts,” she said curtly. I just don’t think there’s something to say. We’ve broken up, in case you didn’t realize the last time I was here.”

Kyle looked genuinely surprised. “We what? What are you talking about? That was just a little fight! Oh, I get it! You’re breaking up with me to be with this Nip scum! That’s how it is?”

Natalie wouldn’t let him get to her this time. “You don’t understand at all. I don’t like him this way, if it makes you feel better. The thing that broke us up was you and your stupid little ego, not Fumio! And if you’re expecting a reunion, you’d better tell your other girlfriend that her staring through the window only in her bra isn’t convincing either,” she finished and pointed at the window. She didn’t even bother with that. Of course there was another girl. That’s why he kept on making last minute changes. As if it matters now.

“What are you doing? If you walk away now–”

“I’m walking very away and I’m doing it right now!” she called back, going out the door with her bike in her hands. Mariko was waiting for her at the other side of the fence, sticking her tongue out to Kyle and calling him names that Natalie found very amusing. He continued ranting as she went down the street, but she paid them no mind. Mariko caught her hand and held it tightly.

“Are you okay, Natarie?”

Natalie let go of Mariko to wipe a small tear slipping down her cheek and nodded. “Yeah. I’m alright now. Everything’s alright.”

* * * * *

I don’t remember being contacted by Kyle since then. I like to think he had the decency to never even try again in his whole stupid life. I talked to Fumio too. Everything’s okay between us. Mariko is as happy as can be too. We meet up at college, we go out afterwards, they come over at my house or I go to theirs a lot too. Mariko’s hairclip attacks continue and I’m sure Fumio is cursing me inside his head for giving all those to Mariko.

Mariko and I planned a surprise birthday party for him. From what Mariko says, Fumio hadn’t had a proper birthday party since before they left Japan. We set everything up at my house, bought a cake, decorated the whole place, I sent everyone out of the house and we lured Fumio in. When he saw what he’d done he was at a loss of words. It was a small party, being just the three of us, but it was fun. We had to put two chairs one on top of the other for Mariko to reach the table when we sat down to eat some birthday came. The little monster in the end had eaten more than Fumio and I combined!

We’re probably going to go to an amusement park the next week. I wonder if these two have ever been in one in their lives. I’m sure they’ll love it.

Natalie stopped writing and got up. She was meeting up with Fumio at the bridge and they were going to go for a walk in the park afterwards. Mariko was already out of her window and was making a ruckus for her to come out.

* * * * *

Fumio had made an early start to make sure he’d be at the bridge in time. He leaned against the railing, looking down at the stream. It was getting wider and muddier around that time of the year. It was absolutely different from the ones back at home.

“So there you are,” a voice said.

He turned around, thinking it was Natalie but just before he saw who called, he realized this wasn’t a girl’s voice. There was a tall muscular guy standing at the side of the bridge. Fumio squinted his eyes, trying to take a better look, but having the sun behind him, the guy looked just like a shady figure with indistinguishable characteristics.

“Who are you?” Fumio called, not moving from his spot.

The shady character came closer though. “Your worst nightmare, you stupid Nip.”

* * * * *

When Natalie and Mariko got to the bridge, there was nobody there. “Hmm, it looks like Fumio is late,” said Natalie.

“But he started around the time I came to your house,” complained Mariko. “Maybe he walked ahead of us and is waiting at the park.”

Natalie shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt to take a look.”

Their walking sped up by the second. Something felt wrong to Natalie. She had a bad feeling about all this. How could punctual Fumio not be there? He wasn’t picking up his cell phone either.

“There’s the park!” Mariko called as she saw the entrance. She started running.

“Wait up, Mariko! You’re gonna trip the way you’re running!”

“No, I’m–” her sentence was cut short and exchanged with a loud shriek. “Natalie! Natalie!” she kept calling until Natalie reached her. That was when Natalie saw it too. There was someone standing over Fumio – Fumio who was on the ground, bloodstained and unconscious – swearing and punching him with all his strength.

“Stop!” Natalie called. “Let him go!” On an impulse, she went closer.

Kyle looked up at her, smiling horribly. “That’s the Nip you like, Nat. Here, enjoy him. You can be his girlfriend all you like now! Stupid sucker; he’s Asian yet he can’t even defend himself. Look at him. Look at what you’re choosing over me!”

Natalie slapped him. She pushed him away from Fumio and kept punching him in the chest over and over again. “Get away, you idiot! Leave. Him. Alone!” Kyle barely moved from her blows. She felt so powerless. How hadn’t she thought this might happen? It was all her fault. All of it was her fault…

What happened next was a blur in her mind. She couldn’t remember how Kyle had left, and if she’d called the hospital, but soon enough the characteristic siren was heard and the ambulance had followed. She could remember sitting at the waiting room, crying, apologizing to his grandparents, nobody understanding what she was saying. Mariko was keeping her face glued to Fumio’s room, staring and staring some more, never paying attention to anything else.

What did they say about Fumio? Five broken ribs, a punctured lung, something broken in his left hand, something more about his nose…. I just can’t keep it all in my mind. I want it all to go away! screamed Natalie inside her head.

Eventually at night, when the doctors took Fumio for a surgery, Mariko came to sit next to her. For the first time, Natalie saw her face stained with tears.

“I heard them say Fumio is not going to make it.”

Natalie pulled her close to her. “Don’t listen. Things are going to be fine. They’re going to be alright.” She wasn’t sure if she believed it herself though.

“I feel it too. He’s barely holding up. That way…”

“He’s going to be okay,” Natalie insisted.

“I know he will,” Mariko said suddenly. “Because I’m going to help him.”

Natalie didn’t understand. She observed Mariko carefully. She was looking straight ahead, at a white wall. She was smiling peacefully and had such a calm look on her face. It was different from her grinning with a lollipop still in her mouth, and her loud giggles as she dragged Fumio around.

“What are you saying? You–” You what? Do you even know what you want to say? Natalie thought. She couldn’t tell what was going through Mariko’s mind.

“I will do what I have to do. Fumio is my best friend. My favorite person in the whole world. When we were little, they said we could have been two sides of the same person. We were closer together than any twins, and we weren’t even related. I always did things that should annoy him, but he never complained. In the summer I’d wear one of my slippers and one of his, forcing him to wear one of mine too. In the end he got so used to it that he did it on his own.”

“I would have liked to see that,” Natalie said, smiling. “But still, Mariko…”

“There’s no need to worry about me. I’ve already died anyway. I’m staying back to make Fumio happy. If I can do something to save him, I will. He would have given his life to get be back that day. I want to be able to do the same for him.”

“But doesn’t that mean you’re going to… will you still be here after that?”

Mariko shrugged. “Nobody ever explained me any of all this. I just figured out how to do a few things on my own. I don’t know what will happen afterwards, where I’ll be. But what’s the point in staying here anyway, if Fumio goes away?”

Natalie couldn’t say anything. Unlike the unreasonable, childish arguments Mariko usually made this was a grown up’s logic, a reasonable thing to say. Still, Natalie couldn’t choose. Both Fumio and Mariko were alive to her. Even if Mariko was visible just to the two of them, she was just as real as any other person.

Natalie felt her eyes filling with tears. She didn’t want to let Mariko see her cry again though. She was probably feeling badly enough without that.

“D– Does it have to be now? Are you going to…” Natalie started asking.

She shook her head. “Not yet. I’ll wait until they bring him back from surgery. There’s something I want to do.”

“Okay, good. Then… can I ask you something? Fumio asked me that, but I couldn’t answer. Maybe you can.”

“Sure. Tell me.”

“Why me? Why of all people, it is me who can see you? I never knew you. Don’t you choose who sees you and who doesn’t?”

Mariko laughed. “I wonder if I do! At first, I was still here, looking at everyone, but nobody could see me. I tried so hard to talk to people I knew, my parents, Fumio, our other classmates, but it was all in vain. Then, when Fumio moved here, suddenly he could see me. I thought I’d done some sort of magic, and I tried making others pay attention to me again.

“Six years ago, my dog saw me once. She was an old lady by then, but she recognized me. I suppose I’m still the same after all.

“Nobody else could see me though, even years later. And then one afternoon. You saw me. I was walking with Fumio, and when I turned around, you were starting right at me. I knew you could see me then.”

“So it was an accident?”

“More or less.” She grinned. “But I could have made myself invisible to you again. It just couldn’t work the other way around. Don’t tell that to Fumio though. He would kill me if he knew!” She chuckled.

“But then why did you let me?”

“Fumio would need a friend sooner or later. Staying with him was getting harder by the years. I wasn’t getting bored, but it was as if it was harder to stay visible to him. I haven’t seen any other ghosts to ask, but it must be that my soul is trying to move on or something along those lines.

“I couldn’t imagine leaving Fumio all alone when I couldn’t stay back anymore. You were always watching him, following him around. You were a good choice.”

Natalie hid her face in her palms. “What good choice? It was Kyle who got him in the hospital. If I hadn’t seen you, if I hadn’t gotten involved…”

“You’re just like Fumio. Incurably stuuuupid,” Mariko sing-sang. “Will you stop blaming yourselves and realize that things just happen?”

“But–”

Mariko closed her ears with her fingers. “I don’t want to hear it. Na, na, na, na, nana! I can’t hear you! Na, na, na, na!” She kept calling until Natalie gave up. “It’s almost time,” she said. “They’re bringing him back.”

“Stay a little longer.” Natalie took her hand, hoping to keep her from running off.

“I’ve stayed here eleven years longer. Don’t you think that’s long enough?” Somehow, Mariko’s hand slipped right through her grip. “Hey, I need a last favor.” Natalie nodded. “I’m going to leave something back for Fumio. But he’ll have to see it for himself when he wakes up. Will you make sure no one changes it until he’s opened his eyes?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I will.”

Mariko grinned. Suddenly she ran forward and hugged Natalie tightly. “Goodbye then. It was so fun meeting you. Take good care of Fumio for me.”

“I will,” she said. She couldn’t hold back the tears that run down her eyes anymore.

“And stop your crying! You’re getting my hair wet!” commanded Mariko in a bossy voice.

Natalie half-smiled. “I’m sorry.”

Mariko let go. Two nurses and a doctor in scrubs turned around the corner, pushing a hospital bed with a boy in it. Natalie saw Fumio’s face as they opened the room’s door and took him in.

“Goodbye, Natarie!” Mariko said, with her simple grin, waving her hand happily as she slipped through the door with them.

* * * * *

Once the hospital staff left the room, Natalie had gone to the room’s window, watching Fumio. She could make out Natalie’s small frame moving in the darkness, but she couldn’t tell what she was going. She observed her going around the bed, then running back to the other side, then running around again. She didn’t find out until it was morning.

A nurse had told her to go in, since she wouldn’t leave the hospital anyway, and she took a seat at the armchair across Fumio’s bed. His nose was horribly bruised, and his cheeks her red and swollen. There were a few cuts, but they had been cleaned and stitched by the doctors. Natalie kept staring at his hair, unable to share Mariko’s joke at the moment. Mariko… she walked in and didn’t come out. Did she really do it?

“N-Natarie?” Natalie jumped up at the sound of Fumio’s voice. “Hey, what’s all this fuss about?”

Natalie’s eyes were watery again. “You’re awake.”

Fumio tried to smile. It looked terrible, but it felt so relieving to see him okay. “Why are like that. God, my head feels as if it’s about to burst. I had such a crazy dream. I saw that we were meeting up, but your crazy ex attacked me.”

“I’m so sorry, Fumio, I’m sorry it’s all my fault. It wasn’t a crazy dream. It really happened.”

“Hm? It did? Wait, where are we?”

“The hospital. You were admitted yesterday.”

“Aaah, then that explains why my head feels like it’s going to burst.” He pulled off the overs with his good hand and tried to get up.”

“D-Don’t move just yet. I don’t think you should–”

“Ouch!” He flinched and fell back. “Enough said, I get it. I’m staying down.” He smiled again. “When did you last sleep? You look terrible.”

“Oh, look who’s talking! You should look at your face,” Natalie shot back, half-joking.

“Haha, I suppose I really should. Oh, hey, there’s something I wanted to tell you.”

“What?”

“Your boyfriend was cuckoo. Next time I think Mike and I are going to pick the boyfriend. They’re going to get us all killed!” It was obvious Fumio was trying to get this all to sound funny, but Natalie was overcome with guilt again. “Oh? Where’s Mariko?”

“She… well, I don’t know how to say this…”

“Wow, my head’s all itchy. As if someone has filled my head with–” he paused as his hand touched the first hairclip. “What does this mean? Where is she? What… no…” He kept on moving his hand across his head, looking for more hairclips. “How many are there?”

Natalie quietly counted them. “Twelve.”

For the first time, Natalie saw a tear rolling down Fumio’s cheek. “Twelve… twelve years.” He sounded calm. “Why now?”

“I think it was to save you. She said you were going to die. I don’t quite understand it either. But she left these back for you,” Natalie explained as she pointed at his head.

“These. Right. Did she put the big one with the bee as well?”

She nodded. “That’s the one right in the middle. She made sure it stands out.”

He was thinking. Eventually he said, “She could have waited for me to wake up. To say goodbye. I couldn’t have been so bad. I feel fine.”

“I think the morphine is what makes you feel fine,” Natalie admitted. “She said goodbye though. Even if you couldn’t hear it at that time.”

A few more tears ran down his face. “Stupid Mariko. I’ll miss her.”

* * * * *

Recovery for Fumio took two months. All those breaks needed a lot of time to heal. He was sad for Mariko too. He didn’t cry again though after the day he woke up. I went to visit him every day, and he seemed to be a little better when he talked to someone. Things were probably going the way Mariko would have wanted them to.

I later talked to my brother and he told me he was the one who had stopped Kyle. He gave him a good beating and the called the police. If I’m lucky, I’ll never have to see this bastard’s face again in my life.

Fumio never blamed me for the beating, although it was clearly my fault. He is such a good person. I don’t get how he’s not angry at me. Maybe it doesn’t matter though.

I’m going over the hospital today again. Fumio is getting released. Mike will drive me there. He seems to like Fumio a lot. How he’d wish he was my boyfriend. I am starting to think he’s trying to brainwash me into going out with him. Not happening though. Fumio is one of my dearest friends, but I could never see him this way. He seems to agree too. While in the hospital he once told me, ‘I’d actually be offended if you asked me out on a date. Judging from the loonies you choose for boyfriends, I don’t know what such a proposal would say about my mental state.’

Of course, Fumio was a little crazy too. He was living with the ghost of his best friend for his past 12 years. But that’s a special kind of crazy. The good kind. That’s what I like to think at least.

* * * * *

“Come on you slowpoke,” called Natalie back at Fumio. “I’m carrying all the bags but you’re still falling behind.”

“Well, you always told me to sit down and rest ever since I got in here! It’s a miracle I still know how to walk!” he exclaimed.

He quickly signed some final papers at the receptions, and they were finally out.

“Sun! God, I seriously was starting to forget what things looked like outside a hospital. But it’s going to be different without Mariko around, huh?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“I miss her,” Fumio said. Somehow, even though he knew she had moved on, he was still hoping that he’d see her somewhere; that somehow she would be waiting for him outside the hospital, a lollipop in hand and a loud scold ready to come out of her mouth.

Natalie pulled at his sleeve. “Hey, am I the only one who sees that?”

No. The words never left Fumio’s lips though. The shock was too much. Right across the street, by the traffic light stood a little girl with long, black hair and small eyes. She was grinning and was waving two hands in the air, one holding a big lollipop.