allendalepharm Chapter 126 - 3.2
Chapter 126 - 3.2
Chapter 126: Chapter 3.2
May 2 Kimihiko Kimizuka
Just after midnight, I was lying on the hotel bed, half asleep, when the phone by my pillow alerted me to a call.
The caller was—Danny Bryant.
With a small gasp, I went over to the window, then tapped the TALK button. "Hey there. You're over here, aren't you?" The voice from the receiver
sounded more appalled than angry. As I hesitated, not sure how to answer, I heard a heavy sigh. "There's nobody nearby, right? You're alone?"
I looked around to make sure. "Yeah. I've been alone since I was born, including now."
"Ha-ha. Good answer. I give it sixty points." Danny laughed. He's a pretty tough grader. "—So? Why did you come out here, too?" His voice suddenly dipped. He was slightly angry after all. "I'm pretty sure I told you to watch the fort."
I remembered what Danny had said three nights ago, that he was headed out to do a hairy job, so he wouldn't be home for a while.
I'd spent the next day as usual, just as he'd told me...but then I'd reconsidered and tried to follow him as best I could.
"Geez, brat. Do as you're told, wouldja?" Well, I hadn't. On the other end of the line, I could tell Danny was stumped. The source of this content nov(el)bi((n))
"I'm here by coincidence. I got this intense craving for some Toyama black ramen."
"Sure. Well, there's a ton of instant ramen in the cupboard. Go right back home and boil some water. I recommend letting it sit for two and a half minutes; the noodles are nice and chewy then."
Okay. So he wasn't going to truly respond until I was honest with him. "You were the one who said I'd have to be a con man who could fool cops and detectives."
I thought I heard a little gasp on the other end of the line. "I'm not the police, kid."
"It's just a metaphor. Whatever you are, it doesn't matter to me. I just..." I couldn't seem to get the words out. "Where are you right now?" I asked instead. I knew he had to be close, but where was he exactly? And also... "What's this hairy job of yours? Does it have something to do with whoever's been after you lately?"
I fired one question after another at Danny.
He stayed silent, and then... "Why are you asking me all that now?" His voice was perfectly calm. "We've never had a serious conversation before. We've never meddled in each other's business. Those were the rules. Why would you break them?" He wanted to know what was behind my change of heart, but he'd just said it himself.
"You're always wandering off, and I never know what you're doing. Even when you went somewhere for a job, you didn't go out of your way to tell me. And yet this time, you said the job was going to be tricky...and you also said you wouldn't be back for a while. Why?"
Maybe it was just a hunch, something I couldn't trust. Back then, though, Danny had sounded like he was steeling himself for something. "I'm going to ask you one more time, Danny Bryant. Where are you? I'll meet up with you right away," I added.
"What can you do?"
"I dunno. Maybe nothing."
"Then why would you come here?" Danny sighed, sounding irritated.
I gave it a little thought. "You're the reason I'm like this, and I want to know
what's happening to you." I also wanted to see it through to the end. That was all.
After half a minute of silence...
"...We'll meet up in twenty hours. I'll contact you with the location later," Danny said. I'd worn him down. "You're even more of a pain now than you were when I first met you." He seemed fondly exasperated now.
"Is it okay if I take that as a compliment?"
"Go study Japanese, read some books, and underline all the characters' feelings."
"What do I do when the narrator's unreliable? The protagonist might be a con man."
"Ha-ha. You'll just have to read between the lines. Brush up your communication skills and work on reading emotions."
Hm. After so many years living alone, this could be the highest hurdle I'd faced yet.
"If you can't do that, then gather evidence."
"Evidence? You're telling me to look beyond what they're saying?"
"Right. If you don't know what a guy is thinking, start by observing. Look, listen, talk, and collect information. He'll probably lie sometimes; people do that. So don't go taking everything at face value. Weigh objective testimony, evidence, and facts."
Danny's words gradually grew more intense.
"Analysis, theory, and thought: Those are always important. Think of what that person has done. Think about what it really means. Don't get stuck on words; don't be fooled. If you don't understand the human heart, then trust what you see. What you should believe is reality. Learn about people that way," he finished.
"If I do, will I understand them someday?" I was sure I still didn't understand half of what Danny just said. I asked anyway, in case.
"Yeah, I think you will," Danny said, showing a strong amount of confidence in his theory. "But. If you ever find yourself in a situation you really can't handle, I bet you'll run into somebody who'll give you a better answer."
"What, so you're just passing the buck in the end? Again?" I broke into a joyless smile.
"Ha-ha. Well, don't stress out about it. For now, just tuck the idea away in a corner of your mind." His tone grew uncharacteristically soft. "Don't worry. Whenever you're driven by necessity, you'll meet the people you need to meet.
That's true now and forever."
It almost sounded as if Danny was trying to give my problematic predisposition new meaning. "I'll call you again," he said, and hung up.
May 2 Siesta
Early the next morning, we left the hotel and headed for the place where Krone had told us the artist lived.
It took us a bit over two hours after transferring between trains and buses. The place was located well outside the city, and as we made our way toward it on foot, a white building that looked like a church came into view on the other side of the grassy plain.
"It's a children's home," Boy K. muttered behind me. "I can hear kids' voices.
It doesn't seem like a regular school, though."
I'd heard that he'd lived at a facility before Danny Bryant took him in. That was why he had jumped straight to that possibility. We had that in common; I'd once lived in a facility with other kids my age, too. During my days there, I'd—
"Gekka, what's wrong?"
So she really did know him.
"What's your connection to Danny?" Boy K. asked.
For just a moment, Grete froze. Then she realized we were Danny's friends, too. "Um..." she faltered, lifting the canvas so that it hid the lower half of her face. She seemed bashful by nature.
"Danny Bryant is the one who encouraged Grete to polish her art skills," Jekyll explained.
"He worked to protect those like Grete, children with special circumstances. Since getting by in the regular world was going to be difficult for them, he taught them skills that would help them live independently once they left Sun
House."
I see: ways to earn money. It all made sense now. Danny must have bought Grete's paintings in order to show her that her ability to create perfect counterfeits could help her earn a living. He'd had Krone, a real art dealer, serve as the middleman so that Grete wouldn't think he was just being kind because he knew her.
"When do you suppose Danny's coming back?" Grete looked down, her expression lonely. "Maybe he's busy with work." From what Ice Doll and Fuubi had said, Danny had disappeared a year ago. Hadn't he visited Sun House since then, either?
"Well, that's a good question." Jekyll looked at us. ...Or rather, at Boy K. "He might know."
All our eyes focused on him.
"Do you know what Danny's doing?" Grete asked Boy K. timidly, overcoming her shyness.
"Kid," I said. He shot me a brief glance. "I think it's about time you told me the truth, too, isn't it?"
This was the black box Boy K. had been hiding all this time. I'd been dimly aware that he had some big secret, but I'd been waiting for it to come to the surface.
"You know where Danny Bryant is, don't you?"
I wasn't positive. I'd spent the past few days with him, however, and considering how he'd acted, it was a pretty solid guess.
Jekyll, Grete, and I were all watching him, but Boy K. didn't turn a hair. He just drew one small breath, then filled us in.
"Yeah. Danny's been dead for a year."
May 2 Kimihiko Kimizuka
"Danny, where are you?!" I yelled into the phone when the call finally went through.
It was late at night. Except for me, there was nobody outside. "...Hey, you sound pretty stressed."
On the other end of the line, Danny sounded like his usual easygoing self, but his breathing seemed a little ragged.
We'd talked before, just after midnight, and had planned to meet up that
evening. I waited and waited, but Danny never showed up. I'd called his phone again and again, and this was the first time he'd picked up.
"—! What are you doing?! Why didn't you come?!"
"Ha-ha. I warned you. You can't let con men fool you, Detective."
Who's a detective?! I wanted to shout back at him. My fingers tightened around my phone.
Every so often, I heard something that sounded like a groan. Was he hurt? "I'll be right there. Danny, where are you?" Even as I asked, I was racing toward the spot on the coast where we'd planned to meet earlier. The black ocean spread out in front of me, unchanging and endless.
"...There's one thing I need to tell you."
"The only thing you need to tell me is where you are right now!"
"There's bound to come a day when you wonder why life refuses to go your way, why it's so cruel. You'll lose hope." Danny didn't answer my question. He seemed to be speaking from experience. "It won't matter how happy you were up till then. Maybe you had the best horoscope in the paper that day; maybe you were just picking out a cake for a beloved member of your family. None of that will matter. The devil of misfortune never gives a shit about how it's supposed to go."
"...I didn't know you'd been married." "Ha-ha. You never asked."
It's not like you would have told me if I had.
"—! When despair comes on the heels of tepid happiness, it hurts like hell."
Danny's voice was trembling, but not from emotion. There was something physically wrong with him. Even so, he kept talking.
"You'll think, 'I didn't know life could get so ugly.' You won't feel anything as simple as anger or sadness. All you'll feel is...futility. Emptiness with nowhere to go."
I'd been running without a break, and my chest was starting to hurt. My legs were still moving, and I could still swing my arms, but my heart and lungs couldn't keep up, and each breath was a choking gasp.
"Humans are funny, though. When night falls, we get sleepy, and then we wake up in the morning with our stomachs growling. We think, 'So, what, was that despair even real? Was I just faking? Huh. My body's still trying to live.' It'll make you think survival instincts are a royal pain in the butt. Even so," Danny went on. "That's what humans are. No matter how reality refuses to go your way, you've gotta keep on living."
His rant might have been directed at himself or at the world, but in the next moment, his usual dauntless optimism was back.
"Even if you've lost one way of life, you can choose a new one. We have to.
That's how we keep living. You get it, don'cha?" He sounded as if he were lecturing a kid.
"...No, I don't. I don't get it." I was out of breath. My feet caught on the sand, and I finally collapsed.
"Ha-ha. Well, you don't have to understand right away. Remember what I told you earlier, though. Someday, you'll—"
Just then, I heard other voices on his end of the line. One woman, and a man who wasn't Danny. Who was it? Who was there with him?
"...Sorry. Time's up, I guess."
"What are you talking about?! Danny!"
"Listen up, Kimihiko." For the first time I could remember, Danny said my name. And then...
"You...live on."
Live on.
Right after that, a gunshot rang out.
That was the last time I heard Danny's real voice. Three days before my birthday.