Vol 2 Chapter 5.2 (1/2)
[Novel] NO. 6 - Vol 2 Ch 5 (b)
This is a continuation of PART A.
”You don't know until you try. For one thing...”
”For one thing?”
”―I know I wouldn't become your enemy. Ever. No matter what happens, even if I'm killed, I would be on your side.”
”Just pretty words.”
”It's my resolve.”
It was his will, and it was unwavering. In order to know, you had to try it first. He believed that human souls, when faced with a dilemma, would ultimately choose peace over war, songs and scriptures over weapons, and love over hatred. It wasn't a fantasy. It was hope. I still haven't abandoned hope. I want to find a road that you can't see, and point it out for you.
Nezumi averted his gaze. He kicked the chair leg with the tip of his shoe.
”It p.i.s.ses the h.e.l.l out of me sometimes, when I'm with you. Your head's full of naive and idealistic theories, and you talk as if you're actually serious about them.”
”You wouldn't listen if I wasn't serious about it.”
”That's enough,” said Nezumi curtly. ”Just shut up.” He began working at setting upright the chair that he had kicked over, and lightly thumped the faded cus.h.i.+on seat. ”An idealistic armchair theorist like you should just sit here all day long. Ignore the world outside, and mull over this and that all inside your head. Don't talk to me anymore. Don't make me any angrier than this.”
”Nezumi―” s.h.i.+on began.
”I don't want to hear it. Listening to you makes me sick. Sick and tired. d.a.m.nit, if I knew you were such a chatterbox, I would never have brought you here in the first place.”
”I'm not a chatterbox. I actually don't like speaking to people much.”
”Then all the more reason for you to shut up.”
But I can't just shut up. I can't sit here, close myself off in my own world and sever myself from the world outside. I have to talk to you, listen to your story, and search for a way that we can go on living together.
I don't want to live like this anymore― plugging my ears, keeping my mouth shut, closing my eyes. Nezumi, you were the one that made me feel that way. Pry your hands away from your ears, you said, open your mouth, and will your eyes to see. Those were your words. And now you're telling me to shut up? You're telling me you don't want to hear it?
”Who's the coward now?” He muttered out loud without thinking. Nezumi's expression hardened.
”What did you say?”
Is this gonna end in a fight? The thought flitted in a corner of his mind. Then he decided he wouldn't mind if it did. Nezumi would probably easily wrestle him to the ground. Four years ago, and even now, this hadn't changed. s.h.i.+on had no chance against him. But it wasn't about winning or losing.
He wanted to charge at Nezumi with his own body, his own flesh. He wouldn't mind if he were to be pushed to the ground, punched, or pinned so that he couldn't breathe. If even for a moment, he wanted to collide with Nezumi as equals.
But Nezumi averted his gaze again. He made for the door without even looking at s.h.i.+on. But before Nezumi's hand closed around the doork.n.o.b, there came a m.u.f.fled scratching sound from outside. Something was tearing at the door. A moment later, there was a bark. Nezumi and s.h.i.+on looked at each other.
”Sounds like a dog.”
Nezumi opened the door. A large, dark brown dog was sitting in the doorway, wagging its tail. It had a white parcel in its mouth.
”You're from Inukas.h.i.+'s―something happen to him?” Nezumi retrieved the package from the dog's mouth. It was a letter. Nezumi read it, and the corners of his mouth relaxed.
”s.h.i.+on, there's a job request for you.”
s.h.i.+on ran his eyes through the letter that was pa.s.sed to him. It was nearly illegible. The paper itself was yellowed, old, and wet with dog saliva, and the handwriting meandered all over the place. But it thrilled s.h.i.+on's heart more than any other letter he had received.
”What's dog-was.h.i.+ng?”
”It's just how it reads. You wash dogs― the ones that Inukas.h.i.+ lends out for heating. They're the big, quiet ones with long fur. There must be about twenty of them altogether. He gets customers sometimes that don't pay because they complain the dogs are smelly or have fleas, so once a week on a sunny day he takes them out for a wash. So what are you gonna do?”
”I'll go, of course,” s.h.i.+on glowed. ”He's asking me if I want to come work. It's my first job. I actually have a job now.”
”Will you stop gus.h.i.+ng?” Nezumi said with a grimace. ”Man, you really are easy to please, aren't you?”
”Nezumi, should I take anything with me? Do you think I'll need soap?”
”You probably won't need anything. Just beware of men and women who might pull you into alleyways, I guess. If that dog is with you, I don't think you need to worry. I'll go with you partway.”
”Speaking of which, I do want to see your workplace one day. And see you on the stage.”
”Don't get your hopes up.”
The dog barked.
”Thank you,” s.h.i.+on told him. ”Thanks to you, I've been able to get my hands on my first job. I'm all yours, take me there.”
The dog wagged its tail as s.h.i.+on crouched down toward it, and licked him under the chin.
”You're licking my wound for me? You're a nice boy.”
”Dumba.s.s, he only licked it because he smelled blood.”
”I don't think so. He did it because he was concerned about me. But whatever the reason, he's certainly nicer than you,” s.h.i.+on said wryly.
”Don't compare me with a mutt,” Nezumi said sullenly. He looked genuinely disgruntled. The way he stuck his lip out brought back a fleeting image of his face four years ago. It somehow made s.h.i.+on want to laugh, and for some reason, made him feel nostalgic.
”What?” Nezumi said. ”What're you grinning about?”
”Nothing,” s.h.i.+on said mildly. ”Just noticing you've still got a childish part left in you. It made me kind of happy.”
”Huh?”
”Never mind. Alright, then,” he said briskly, ”lead the way.” He petted the dog lightly on the back. Picking up the cue, the dog bounded up the stairs. s.h.i.+on followed after it and exited the bas.e.m.e.nt room.
The sun was bright in his eyes. I see― a day like this would be perfect for was.h.i.+ng dogs. He tilted his face up to the sky and breathed in deeply.
It looked like s.h.i.+on's figure was being sucked into the light. Whenever Nezumi crawled out of his dark hole, the light always stabbed at his eyes. He didn't like bright places. Places filled with light always turned easily into areas of danger. He knew this well from experience. He couldn't be like s.h.i.+on and fully accept the light without hesitation.
Friends and enemies. Outside the wall, and inside the wall. Love and hatred. Light and dark.