Chapter Four: Where and why?
The sushi arrived and I realized that I was starving. I eat a few before answering calmly, not taking my eyes off of him. "7 years ago, I encountered a man who claimed to be my father. And he immediately invited me to stay at his place."
I remembered what happened that day. I was about to go to school that morning. Had my breakfast, wore my shoe and about to leave the house where I'd been living alone in. And then a man wearing a smart, brown suit and a pair of glasses with dark eyes like mines appeared behind the door, in a pose which looked like he was about to knock on my door. When we faced each other, he smiled warmly at me and said. "Good morning, Aikawa."
I was startled. I knew I never met him before, but it felt like we had a connection. "G-Good morning. How do you know my name?" I asked him.
"May I come in? We can have a chat and I'll explain everything to you." He said nicely in an assuring tone.
But he was still a stranger to me, so I wasn't sure if that was a good idea. "I'm sorry, but I have to go to school."
There was an awkward moment of quietness. I didn't know what to say and he was in my way. From the look from his face, he was gloomy, but he could still smile. "Aikawa. I want you to listen what I'm going to say. This sounds a bit… sudden, but… I'm your father."
Izaya munched a piece of his sushi before returning to me. "So, you trusted him?"
"At first, I didn't believe him. I mean…" I paused, thinking about what to say. I looked at him, worried. "I think you don't know this, but in the orphanage that I lived, Miss Suguru, the caretaker said that my father died and that I never met him before I was sent there."
He rested his chin on his hand, giving me a skeptical look. "You went to the orphanage when you were still 2, right?" it was true and I nodded. "Left you by the door step in a basket. It's sad though that people still do that. They would've been lucky to raise a girl like yourself."
I didn't really understand him, so I continued. "Anyway, the man was Nagari Tsutsumoto. He works as an accountant in Kyoto. And still today. When he told me that he was my father, I got flustered and didn't know what to do. So he showed me an album."
Inside that album was full of pictures of a slightly younger-looking him holding a baby. The baby had brown hair and black iris. All of the pictures were just the kid and him, and they were all selfies, doing various stuff and smiling ever so happily. I could tell that they were sincerely happy. They weren't fake. However, it still hasn't convinced me, yet that I was his child. That kid could be anyone. I was about to tell him that when suddenly I saw the last picture in the album.
It was a picture of the kid and him in the beach, building a sandcastle. What caught my eyes were the kid's hip. It has a dark area of the skin shaped like a bunny. I almost fainted. I had that birthmark, too. I was suddenly overwhelmed by strong emotions; happy, angry and confused all mushed together and all I could do was cry. I cried without looking at the man, my father. And he, without hesitation, hugged me tightly. It felt like forever since I was this close to someone. Usually, I would get very uncomfortable, but I didn't think about that. I was so happy to be able to meet someone who knew and loved me. That was why, when he asked me to come and live with him, I agreed.
We finished our dinner and Simon cleaned our table. I was actually finished in telling my story to him and I knew it was hard to process. He smiled at me and said, "You're so mean, Ai-chan."
I raised an eyebrow. "Eh?"
"You could've at least called us for once. I mean, who wouldn't be shocked to hear that a friend didn't go to school and disappeared like that? Seriously, everyone thought –and still thinks- that you were dead. You should've seen Erika and Shizu-chan back then. They'd gone nuts and-"
"And you?" I interrupted him, curious. "How did you react?"
Izaya stared at me, long enough to make me feel weird. He still had his smirk, but he sounded a bit nervous. "I was really worried, too. Ai-chan left me all alone with Shizu-chan~!"
I laughed at his childish play. We stayed there for a while, talking about our lives. He said that he was an information breaker, staying here in Ikebukuro for a while to do some research before returning back to Shinjuku. This guy is still obsessed in humans. Pretty creepy. Not that I would say it, though. I told him that I was establishing a new theme for my blog –Busy 'n' Unique- in which Ikebukuro was perfect for that and I would be staying here for a month. I asked if he and Shizuo were fine. He just growled and said some things about him. I guess they never could get along.
"Ah… Look at the time." He said as he looked at his watch. I looked at mine and it showed 9:56pm. "Shall we go?"
The rain already stopped. The cold air fogged up my glasses, so I removed and wiped them. Suddenly, Izaya held my hands down, preventing me from wearing them.
"I never really told you this." He started. He was unfamiliarly gentle. In his voice and his touch. "But you look better without glasses."
Again, my heart began to pound faster. I felt my face heat up. I let go of his hand and wore my glasses without looking at him. This feeling. I hated it. And he always made me feel this way. Maybe ever since high school, but I never took it too seriously.
"I~ ZA~ YA~!"
After the sound of an angry man yelling Izaya's name, a vending machine crashed at the spot where he stood. He could have died by that. Luckily, he was able to dodge it. I was really shocked and turned around. What I saw was someone who was glaring deathly daggers at Izaya.
"Looks like I can't offer you a walk home, but…" he took my hand and placed something on my palm before closing it. "… that doesn't mean we won't try it again~ Bye~!" He ran off into the crowds and vanished.
"COME BACK HERE, FLEA!" the guy ran after him. I didn't get a chance to look at him. However, I knew who he was. Who else could throw heavy public objects at Orihara Izaya? I smiled. Maybe I'll meet him soon.
I looked at my palm and found a piece of paper. A phone number was written on it.