MaruMA:Gaiden04:Chapter 4
I Will Only Call You Murata
Towards the end of the story, we walk out of the warm convenience store, jogging in the cold wind. Before reaching the bench in front of the bus station, neither of us says anything.
“Hu-haa—It’s so cold! Your glasses are fine, right? Murata, your glasses?”
“They’re—fine—!”
People who don’t wear glasses won’t understand why the lenses suddenly fog up.
We’re the only ones at the bus stop. The aqua blue bench is really icy cold, it feels as though the cold permeates through the body from behind the knees. Shibuya uses his hands to split his meat bun into two, giving one half to me as though it’s only natural.
“Thanks. I’ll give you half of my red bean bun.”
“Mn. Oh, yeah, Murata, between the meat bun and red bean bun, which would you eat first?”
“Which one… Probably the meat bun, I guess. I think the red bean bun won’t get cold as quickly.”
“Like that, huh—Maybe.”
His eyes are trained on the steaming red bean bun in his right hand, its contents spilling out.
It’s a Chinese-style filling, shining black.
“Was that long, black-haired man the last one? Rather than saying he was the last, I should ask, was he your soul in the very beginning?”
“Not me, but he’s the personality whose memories have lasted the longest. The person who used the same soul as me in ancient times.”
“Mn—”
Shibuya closes his eyes as he hums, and just then a large truck passes by my eyes as well. Before coming here, I told him about many of my past lives.
In my vast memories, that is the era he can understand.
But the long story that lasted all day finally ends with that certain someone at the very beginning.
“A long, black-haired intellectual type—To me, I can only think of Kinpachi-sensei[1] and Manda Hisako[2].”
“Does Kinpachi-sensei count as the intellectual type?”
“…But he must be the type of person whose super-sized portrait was hung in the corridors, right? And the size is about as large as His Majesty Shinou, too.”
“Oh—Would they hand that sort of thing? That I don’t know, maybe it was a descendant that drew the portrait for him?”
Shibuya mutters ‘maybe’, crumpling up the paper into a ball and tossing it into the trashcan. Good throw! Although it’s his left hand, the control of his power is spot-on.
“Anyway, that guy was super smart, and he’s as great as His Majesty Shinou. But the first time I went to that world, everyone was making a huge deal and yelling all about ‘double-black, double-black!’, treating me like a rare animal. Don’t tell me, is it because the color of my hair and eyes is the same as the ancestor of your soul?”
“Mn, that’s right. It’s just that everyone says he’s so great and all, or calling him ‘Daikenja’ and whatnot, when in fact his personality seems to be fairly problematic.”
“What!?”
“He’s the type who would stab you in the back with a smile on his face. I don’t know what his image is like in others’ eyes, but he must have duped everyone perfectly—”
“What—!? Looks like even if he’s a Sage, his personality may not be all that pure.”
As though suddenly remembering that the weather is cold, Shibuya starts shivering. So I hand a can of coffee to him—one of those drinks full of sugar and milk powder.
“Thanks a bunch!”
He only takes two sips before returning the coffee to me, rubbing his arms with his hands. The only insulating thing he has on him is the scarf outside his uniform. It is a scarf he knitted by accident during his middle school days, but only I and a select few other classmates know that.
“But back then, my—”
He raises his index finger and points at his chest, where the heart is, with a ‘thunk!’,
“—This thing, I wonder where it was, and what kind of life was it living? Could it have been your friend?”
Although he’s always emanating such a strong light, everyone wavers at some point. Those times must be laughed off.
“Forget it, Shibuya. Didn’t you say that once you mention past lives, it means this life is over?”
“Oh, yeah, you’re right. Consider that my mistake.”
“Maybe your brain is still frozen. Besides, you wouldn’t have been ‘my’ friend, because that Daikenja isn’t me, don’t get that wrong. Do I look like someone with a really bad personality?”
Shibuya, you have to be really careful.
I look at his watch, observing his expression as he’s distracted. His face is pale from the cold, that’s right, you have to be extra careful. Even if someday your past personas awaken due to whatever impact, you must not yield to that persona, and you must never ever be controlled by your past memories.
“Oh, yeah, what was Daikenja’s name?”
“Eh?”
I reply with a noise, and he looks up too, to glance at the bus timetable before turning around to look at me, holding my canned coffee,
“I’m asking for a name. That long black-haired, intelligent, but with a personality worse than he looks, the name of that Daikenja. Thinking about it afterwards, I realize no one told me Shinou’s real name. Although I’m in honorary last place in the group of kings, but to think that I never before heard the name of my glorious predecessor--? That’s right, what was the Daikenja’s intellectual name, anyway?”
I’m suddenly not too happy, crossing my legs, stretched towards the sidewalk as I say.
“I’m not telling you—”
“Why not!?”
“If you were to get it wrong, I’d be really unhappy.”
“Huh!? There’s no way I could get something like that wrong!”
“It’s not like I don’t believe you, because Your Eminence or Lord Daikenja, most of my names were hard to remember. If I were to add a new name to that now, you would definitely get confused.”
“Mgh—You really underestimate my brain power. Since you put it that way, then it’s decided—No matter what, I will only call you Murata!”
He doesn’t understand what I really meant, I just want to tell him so badly, ‘It’s okay if you just call me Murata.’ But Shibuya interrupts my thoughts, purposely standing on the bench and repeatedly yelling, ‘Murata! Murata!’ Thanks to that, his face finally regains some color.
“Even if other people respectfully call you Lord Daikenja or Your Eminence, I will definitely only call you Murata! Accept it, Murata! To me, for the rest of your life you will only be Murata!”
“Eh? What if I marry into another family?”
“Then I’ll call you Ken-chan, Ken-chan!”
“Actually it’s okay if you don’t add that ‘-chan’.”
“Like I said—That’s not what I meant!”
“I know.”
I know, what you mean is ‘you won’t give me any special treatment’, right? You won’t confuse me with those pitiful people, you’ll just treat me like a normal friend, and call my name, right?
Just as he’s about to call me, I suddenly speak up,
“I say, Shibuya, I think I mentioned this to you before.”
Although I regret having to interrupt him, but in the future he’ll have plenty of chances to call me. I stand on the bench slowly too, standing side by side with Shibuya, at the same time watching the familiarly-colored bus slowly drive towards us.
“I told you, ‘I’m happiest right now’.”
Ah—of course, how could he have forgotten something so recent.
I just wanted to tell you one more time.
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- ↑ A teacher of a third year class in a long-running television drama that deals with contemporary issues. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kinpachi-sensei)
- ↑ An actress that is known for playing the wise lady.
