My story is approaching its end. I have less and less time to spend on recording it like this. I'm not even certain I'll be able to write it all the way to its conclusion.
I'm disappointed, but the only choice I have is to record what happened in less detail.
I decided to dedicate the rest of my life to repaying Miyagi's debt, but my habit of being an idiot who didn't know what he was doing wasn't easy to fix. Still, in the rest of the story, I don't think my mistaken assumptions are really worth criticizing. I mean, the entire plan was impossible, for one. Miyagi's debt was far beyond the amount Himeno once said was the lifetime earnings of a salaryman. There was no legitimate way for an ordinary college student to earn that kind of money in two months.
But I still tried to find out. The more laudable plan of working hard and chipping away at it wasn't realistic in this case. Even working myself to the bone at a real job wasn't going to have any effect if it was only for two months. I might be able to return the three hundred thousand yen Miyagi gave me, but I didn't think she wanted me to spend the rest of my life doing hard labor just for that. Miyagi wouldn't want me to dabble in theft, burglary, fraud, or kidnapping, either. If I was making this money for her, there was no point to doing it in a way she didn't want.
I considered gambling, but I wasn't stupid enough to throw myself into that world. I knew that gambling when you were desperate was an easy guarantee that you would lose. The only people who win are the ones who have money to spare.
If you try to reach for Lady Luck, she runs away. You have to be patient, waiting and waiting for her to approach, and catch her when the timing is right. But I didn't have that much time, and my senses weren't sharp enough to catch the exact right moment.
It was like trying to catch a cloud. If there was a wonderful way to make a lifetime's worth of money in just two months, everyone would be doing it. I was trying to prove something that everyone else had already proved impossible. My only unique advantage was the knowledge that I would die soon—I had the ability to risk everything. But I wasn't the first person to wager his life in an attempt to make a lot of money. Obviously, the vast majority of those people were not successful.
But I still thought about it. I knew it was absurd. If no one else had ever achieved this before, I would just have to be the first, I told myself. Think, think, think. How can I pay off Miyagi's debt in the last two months? How can I assure she sleeps peacefully every night? How can I keep her from being all alone in the world after I'm gone?
I thought and thought as I paced through the town. Twenty years of experience taught me that walking and more walking was the best way to mull over a tough question without a simple answer. I walked the next day, and the day after that, hoping that I'd stumble over the perfect answer somewhere.
During my period of contemplation, I hardly ate a bite of food. Another bit of knowledge from experience was that hunger past a certain point honed my intuition. I was relying on that now.
It wasn't that long before I landed upon the idea of visiting that business again. My last hope was the fact that I still had two opportunities to make use of the place in that crumbling building—the very place that plunged me into despair to begin with.
One day, I asked Miyagi a question. "It's thanks to you that I'm a much happier person than I ever was before. How much value do you think my life would get if I went back to that store now?"
"…As you suspect, a human's worth does fluctuate to a certain extent," Miyagi said. "But unfortunately, subjective happiness does not have much of an influence on the value of the life span. What they value is objective, measurable, metric-based happiness. Not that I think highly of that."
"In that case, what actually does have the most influence on the value?"
"Contributions to society, fame… Things that are very easy to determine objectively tend to be the most prized."
"Easy to determine, huh?"
"Um, Mr. Kusunoki…"
"What's up?"
"Please don't get any funny ideas." She looked worried.
"I'm not getting funny ideas. My ideas are the most natural kind there are, for this kind of situation."
"…I believe I know what you're considering," she claimed. "You're thinking of a way to pay off my debt, aren't you? If that's the case, I appreciate the thought. I really do, but I don't want you to spend the last bit of your time doing that. If you're doing it because you're wondering how to make me happy, then I'm sorry, but you're approaching this all wrong."
"Then for the sake of asking, what does make you happy?"
"…Interact with me," she said, almost pouting. "You haven't been talking to me much lately."
Miyagi was perfectly right. I was completely off in my way of thinking.
But I couldn't just give up on this. I was too stubborn.
Gain value that was easy to determine, like social contribution and fame. That raises the price of your life. And that was a sure thing. Or to rephrase it, you should be a great and admired person, the kind of person whose name everyone knew.
Simply making a lot of money, or becoming a person of such high value that your life span could be sold at a high price—which was a more realistic goal? I didn't know. They both seemed completely improbable. But if there were no other ways, I would have to test it out.
I was reaching the limit of what I could think about on my own. The time had come to rely on the imagination of others.
The first place I visited was the local used bookstore. I always had a tendency to go there when I was feeling troubled. As I browsed random shelves and idly picked up books that seemed unrelated to my problem, I often found a solution. This one wouldn't be that easy to solve, but it wasn't the books alone I would rely on today.
Instead, I spoke to the elderly shop owner, who was listening to a baseball game on the radio in the back, practically buried in stacks of books all around him. He looked up and murmured something noncommittal.
I decided not to mention the shop that bought and sold life span at all. For one thing, I wanted to know exactly how much he knew about the shop, and I also wanted him to hear what had happened to me in the last month. But if I talked about that, I would naturally have to broach the fact that I had less than two months to live, and that might make the man feel responsible.
So I avoided the topic of life span. For once, I acted in a way that did not let on about Miyagi's presence, and I started talking about harmless things: the weather, baseball, books, festivals. It hardly developed into any kind of conversation, but I found it to be oddly peaceful and comforting. I think I probably just liked this store and its old owner.
When Miyagi wandered away to peer at the shelves, I asked the old man quietly, "What do you think I should do to raise my value?"
After all this time talking, he finally lowered the volume of the radio and said, "Good question. I think you just have to be steady. That's something I couldn't do. I'm an old man now, and it took me this long to figure out the best way to do things. Just take each step you're able to manage, persevere little by little, and build it up that way."
"Uh-huh," I murmured.
"But," he said, preparing to erase everything he'd just said, "there's something more important. And that's to not trust the advice of people like me. Anyone who talks about success without having achieved it for himself is a loser who can't admit it. That's why they don't learn. They don't try to understand why they lost. You don't need to listen to those people and act like you learned something… Lots of people who have failed will talk like they know how to succeed if they just get another life, another shot. They think, 'I've been through hell and back, so I'm not going to screw it up again.' But those people—and I'm one of them—are making a fundamental mistake. A loser's got plenty of experience with failing, yes. But knowing about failure and knowing about success are completely separate things. Clawing out of your hole doesn't mean success. You're just in the gray again, where you left. That's what they don't understand."
I recalled that Miyagi had said something similar, and it struck me as being funny. They're only standing at the starting line. It means that after a long losing streak of gambling, they've finally regained their wits. Nothing good comes from assuming this is your chance for a once-in-a-lifetime jackpot.
Lastly, he said, "So you're thinking of selling your life again, huh?"
"What do you mean?" I said, smiling blankly.
As I did that first day, I went to the CD shop after the bookstore. The usual bleached-blond guy gave me a friendly greeting. Here, too, I avoided the topic of life span and instead stuck to some benign topics about the latest albums he was listening to.
Eventually, I waited until Miyagi wasn't quite listening to ask, "If you wanted to achieve something in a limited amount of time, what would you do?"
His response was prompt. "You'd probably need a lotta help, right? I mean, there's not much you can do on your own, ya know? So you have to rely on other people. I don't put a lot of trust in an individual's ability. If I can't solve it by applying eighty percent of my own effort, I'll go right to someone else for help."
It was tricky advice. I wasn't sure if it would be useful to me or not.
Outside, there was one of those special summer storms that sneaked in out of nowhere. I was heading out, expecting to get wet, when the blond guy stopped me and gave me a plastic umbrella.
"I'm not really sure what it is you're trying to do, but if you want to achieve anything, the first thing you'll need is your health," he said.
I thanked him, opened the umbrella, and went home with Miyagi. It was a small umbrella, so our outer shoulders got drenched. Strangers passing by eyed me with curiosity. I must have looked like a real idiot, holding my umbrella over just one shoulder as I walked by myself.
"I like this kind of thing," Miyagi said with a laugh.
"What kind of thing?" I asked.
"Mmm, what I mean is, it might look foolish to someone else, but there's actually a very heartwarming reason that you're letting your shoulder get wet. I like it."
"Oh," I said. My face felt a little hotter.
"You're a shameless shy boy," she said, poking me on the shoulder.
At this point, I was beyond indifferent to what anyone thought about me; I actively enjoyed being treated like an eccentric. It would make Miyagi smile. And the more comical I appeared, the happier she was.
We took shelter under the overhang of some storefronts. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the runoff flooded the drain, drenching my shoes all the way to the inside.
Then I saw a familiar face. He was walking quickly with a dark-blue umbrella, and when he saw me, he stopped.
It was a guy from my college, whom I only knew well enough to exchange greetings with.
"It's been a while," he said, his stare cold. "What have you been doing lately? I haven't seen you at school in forever."
I placed a hand on Miyagi's shoulder. "I'm just hanging out with her. Her name's Miyagi."
He wrinkled his nose in obvious distaste. "That's not funny, man. Don't be a creep."
"I don't blame you for reacting that way," I said. "If I were in your position, I'd probably do the same thing. But I can tell you all the same that Miyagi is right here. I'll respect that you don't believe me, so I'd appreciate it if you respect that I do believe it."
"…Listen, Kusunoki. I've always thought you were crazy. You never hang out with anyone; you just hide in your shell, right? Why don't you pay attention to the outside world for once?" he snapped, then walked away.
I sat down on a bench and watched the rain come down. It was just a passing shower, and the sun was soon peeking out from the clouds again. We had to squint against the shine of the light reflecting off the wet pavement.
"Um, I just want to say…thank you." Miyagi leaned against my shoulder.
I put a hand on her head and traced my fingers through her soft hair.
You just have to be steady, the owner of the used bookstore had said. I repeated it to myself. He also said he shouldn't be trusted, but at this moment, his words had meaning to me.
Perhaps I was too invested in the concept of repaying the debt. At this moment, there was something I could do for the sake of Miyagi's happiness. She asked me to interact with her. And even just making myself into a crazy person in public really seemed to make her happy.
If there was something I should be doing, right within arm's length, why didn't I do it?
At that very moment, practically anticipating my change of heart, Miyagi said, "Listen, Mr. Kusunoki. It makes me very, very happy that you're using what little life you have left for my sake…but you don't need to do that anymore. You've saved me. Decades after you're gone, I'm sure I'll be looking back on the time I spent with you, and I'll be crying and laughing by myself. Life will be undeniably easier for me, just from having these memories. So you don't have to keep trying. Just forget about my debt, please."
She leaned against me, allowing me to support her weight.
"Instead, give me memories. Give me as many memories as you can. Memories that will keep me warm when I can barely stand the loneliness after you're gone."
I was approaching the end of my terrible life, which was stupider than that of any person I had ever met—and ironically, the last decision I ever made was the smartest. When you reach the end of my record, you will understand this.
Miyagi and I got on a bus and headed for a park with a big pond.
Most people will either frown or burst into laughter if they hear what I did there.
I rented a boat at the dock. I could have gotten one of the simple rowboats, but I intentionally picked out the ridiculous swan boat. The employee at the dock seemed to think it was strange that I was getting one by myself, to all appearances. This was, of course, because it was always rented by couples or girlfriends.
I turned to smile at Miyagi and said, "C'mon, let's go." The employee's face twitched, and he quickly scampered away from me.
Miyagi found this to be so funny that she kept giggling the whole time we were rowing.
"I mean, to anyone else, you look like a grown man riding in this ridiculous boat on your own!"
"It's not quite as silly as I thought. This is actually pretty fun." I laughed.
We slowly circled the pond. Over the swishing of the boat through the water, Miyagi whistled "Stand by Me." It was a very peaceful summer afternoon.
Yoshino cherry trees were planted all around the pond. During the spring, there was probably a great view of all of them blooming, with petals falling into the water. And in the winter, the water was probably mostly frozen, the swan boats out of commission and replaced by real swans flying through.
I felt a bit sad realizing I would never again see the spring or winter. But the sight of Miyagi smiling right next to me made me not care about that anymore.
The boat was just the beginning, though. Over the days that followed, I engaged in a series of ridiculous activities. In a way, I did everything you're not supposed to do by yourself. I was doing them with Miyagi, of course, but it didn't look that way to anyone else. Riding the Ferris wheel by myself. Going on the merry-go-round by myself. Having a picnic by myself. Visiting the aquarium by myself. Going to the zoo by myself. Swimming at the pool by myself. Going to a bar by myself. Having barbecue by myself. I did everything I could think of that was supposed to be embarrassing for a person to do solo. During each and every activity, I went out of my way to say Miyagi's name, walk hand in hand with her, look into her eyes, and otherwise indicate her presence to others. When I started to run out of money, I did some daily jobs to earn enough for more activities.
At the time, I didn't realize I was becoming famous around my little neighborhood. Of course, there were people who laughed at me or tried not to look at me or stared with horror, but others saw my actions as a kind of skilled pantomime or took me as some kind of idealistic performance artist. In fact, some people felt peace or even bliss by watching me. The reactions were quite varied.
What was surprising to me was that the number of those who held a negative opinion of me was not that far off from those who held a positive one.
Why were nearly half of the people watching my foolish activities feeling better? Perhaps the answer was surprisingly simple.
It was because I was truly happy, all the way to my core.
That was probably all it was.
"Is there anything you want me to do for you?" Miyagi asked one morning.
"What's this all about?"
"I just feel like I'm the one being given everything. I like to be on the giving side every now and then."
"I don't remember doing anything particularly special. But I'll think about it," I said. "What about you? Is there anything you want me to do for you?"
"No, nothing. You've done so much already. If there's any wish I have, it's to know what your wish is."
"Then my wish is to know your wish."
"Like I said, my wish is to know what your wish is."
We went back and forth in this meaningless manner four times, until Miyagi finally gave up.
"You asked me before what I would do if I only had a few months to live, like you. I told you three things, didn't I?"
"The starry lake, your own grave, your old friend."
"That's right."
"You want to go see your friend?"
She nodded, somewhat apologetically. "If you think about it, I could die any day now, too. So I think it's probably better if I go to see him now, while I still know where he's living. And when I say 'see,' I mean literally go look at him… Will you come with me?"
"Yes, of course."
"And you'll have to tell me your wish someday, too, Mr. Kusunoki."
"If I think of one."
We got down to business and looked up the public transit needed to reach our destination, then made preparations to visit Miyagi's hometown.
On the bus trip through the mountains, she looked wistfully at the landscape through the window and said, "I'm sure I'll only end up disappointed. My hope is so unrealistic and selfish and childish. Not once have I ever wished for nothing at all to change and had that wish be granted… But even if my wish amounts to nothing, I think I can handle that now. Because you're right here next to me."
"There's nothing that comforts a loser more than the presence of an even bigger loser."
"That's not what I meant. Are you just acting foolish?"
"I know, I know. I'm sorry," I said and caressed her head. "It's because of this, right?"
"It is," she agreed.
It was a small town. The kind of place where the electronics store at the shopping district was booming, lines were packed at the smaller supermarket chain, and students with nowhere else to go gathered at the community center.
No matter where you set your eyes, the scenery was flavorless, but at this moment in time, everything about it was beautiful. I had no need to perceive the world in an efficient way anymore, and no need to blame it for my predicament. I had the wherewithal to view everything for exactly what it was.
When I considered the world without any kind of constraints, it was as vivid and novel as though some translucent film once covering it had been removed.
On this day, Miyagi was the one taking the lead for once. Her childhood friend did live here, apparently, but she didn't know his actual address. She said we'd try all the places he was likely to go. According to her, his name was Enishi.
When we finally found Enishi, Miyagi did not approach him. She sneaked behind my back, carefully popped her head out, then began to take careful steps toward him, until at last she was standing right next to him.
It was at a small train station, the type where you would start feeling cramped with ten other people. Enishi sat on a bench in the corner, reading a book. His height and facial features were perhaps slightly better than average, but the remarkable thing about him was his expression. It was a face of self-assurance, of a person backed by a certain kind of confidence. In recent days, I was starting to understand what went into building that.
I suppose I would say it was the look of a man who loved someone else and knew that he, too, was loved.
It was apparent from his demeanor that Enishi was waiting not for the train, but for someone to get off the train. I didn't want Miyagi to see who that someone was.
I judged the time, then muttered, "Shall we get going now?" but Miyagi shook her head.
"Thank you, but I want to see. I want to know what kind of person he's in love with now."
A two-car train arrived. The majority of its passengers were high school students, but one of them was a pleasant-looking woman in her midtwenties. It was easy to predict she was the person Enishi was waiting for, even before they traded warm looks.
The woman had a very natural smile. In fact, it was so natural that it became unnatural. Most people's smiles always had some element of artifice to them, but Enishi's girlfriend's smile was utterly easy and smooth. Perhaps it was just the end result of a life spent smiling at everything.
The way they met up without even saying a word made it clear that they had been together for a long time, and yet the utter joy on their faces when they saw each other belonged to two people who had been waiting to see each other for the first time. The scene only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough to understand that they were very happy.
Enishi was leading a happy life without Miyagi.
Miyagi didn't cry or laugh. She watched the two without expression. If anything, I was the one who was shocked. In Enishi and his girlfriend, I saw myself and Miyagi. For just a moment, I envisioned a peaceful, happy future that might have been.
A future where I didn't need to die.
They walked away, and only Miyagi and I were left in the building.
"The truth is, I was going to use the fact that they can't see me to do stuff to him," she said. "But then I didn't."
"What kind of stuff?" I asked.
"Like run up and hug him."
"Oh, that? If I were in your position, I'd do even more than that."
"Like what?" Miyagi asked, but before the words were even out of her mouth, I had my arm around her back. And then I did "more than that."
It lasted for about two minutes.
At first, Miyagi was frozen with shock, but over time she began to relax and returned the gesture.
When I pulled away at last, I said, "If no one else is going to tell me off, I'd do something just as selfish."
"…That's right. No one's going to tell you off," Miyagi said at last, face turned downward.