Two
He stared at her for a few minutes, feeling the first pat on his shoulder as the heavens opened and the grey day made good on its promise to chuck it down with rain. Despite this, he didn't move. Neither did Mei. He stared at her as the ghosts of his classmates hovered in the drops.
"You didn't manage." It was the voice of Izumi, her hair slick against her face in long trails of red rain. "You failed us."
"Not only did you let us die." Kazami joined in, his shattered spectacles dyed in the drops seeping from around his eyes. "You didn't even spot that fundamental error. How could you?"
"How could you?" Yuya.
"How could you?" Izumi.
"How could you?" Aunt Rei…
"Koichi?" He felt his arm tugged out of the hallucination and saw Mei holding his sleeve. "Again?"
No point in hiding it, he nodded, fixing his feet with a stare to stop himself from breaking down.
"Let's get to the pet shop." Mei moved on, pulling him by his sleeve until she was sure that his feet were moving, then let go to keep a better grip on the bike.
"Welcome!" The shopkeeper looked at them in alarm. "Why, you're both soaked through!" He called. "Wait there, I'll get some towels."
"Sorry," Koichi looked at him sheepishly. "We're alright. Really."
"Nonsense, you'll catch your death. Here!" He handed the pair a set of fluffy white handtowels. "Don't be shy, your mother would haunt me if she ever knew I let her kid catch the sniffles." He grinned. He was an older man, his brown hair flecked here and there with strands of grey. His clean-shaven face was tanned and etched as though he had spent every living moment outdoors. His muscular arms were lean and spindly and his chest broad.
"You knew my mother?"
"You're the boy staying at the Mikami's right? Ritsuko's boy?"
"Yes… you knew my mother."
"You could say that." The shopkeeper lifted an arm and scratched the back of his neck. "We were high school sweethearts at one point before she went off to study in Tokyo and I took over the parents' shop. I gave her the bird, you know." He grinned proudly.
"I'm sorry then," Koichi smiled bashfully. "It died this morning."
"Really? Well, it was old. These things happened." The Shopkeeper looked a bit put out, nonetheless. "Were you looking to buy a replacement?"
"For my grandparents," Koichi confirmed.
"Would that be another mynah?"
"I don't know. Maybe something that doesn't speak?"
"Eh? Why? Mynahs are the best parrots there is, don't you know. Perfect mimics."
"I believe you." Koichi grabbed his elbow tensely. "But when they learn sad phrases… it's a bit tough."
"Ah. Three-Three?" Koichi nodded. "Yeah, it was tough when Reiko fell victim. I remember Mrs Mikami being absolutely inconsolable. I guess Peep learned them from her."
"Peep?"
"Did they never tell you the bird's name?" the man looked mildly distraught. "Ritsuko called him Peep, because when I gave her the mynah chick, all it did was peep at her." He grinned, then fell pensive. "But I guess once both girls died, all Peep did was serve as a horrible reminder. I'm surprised they kept him till the end, to be honest. Either way, what were you looking for then?"
"Maybe something a little simpler?"
"Like a songbird?"
"Sure," Koichi shrugged, realising that Mei, in her usual ghostlike way had vanished.
"Eh, let me see." While the shopkeeper moved off, Koichi glanced down the aisles of designated pet gear till he spotted her diminutive figure tapping her finger against the fish-case, silent and unobtrusive as ever.
"Mikami's lodger? Hello?" The shopkeeper's voice called out.
"Yes!"
"There you are," he peered out from behind a shelf. "What is your name, actually? I can't keep calling you Ritsuko's kid or Mikami's lodger."
"Sakakibara." He held out a hand tentatively. "Koichi Sakakibara."
"Nice." The shopkeeper took it and shook firmly. "I'm Jo Kirishima, but everyone calls me Mister Jo. Please feel free." He grinned winningly and pulled Koichi after him, "This way for the birds, kid." He nearly dragged him down the aisles till they reached the cages of birds.
A pair of Macaws looked down from lofty perches. Love birds fluttered within their spacious cage. Budgies peeped incessantly.
"Not a mynah, you said, right." Mister Jo grinned. "A simple songbird, you said, right? I recommend this." He pointed to a cage labelled 'cockatiel'.
"Is that a songbird?"
"Nope!" Mister Jo puffed out his chest proudly. "It's a cockatiel."
"The sign says." Koichi agreed.
"They don't do much, but they look awesome." He grinned crossing his arms over his chest.
"If that's what you suggest."
"It is." The grin turned into a beam. "And I'll give you a good price."
"It's fine."
"Sure! It's for Ritsuko."
"Can I have that?" Mei appeared behind them, pointing to a budgie.
"Sure, we'll sort you out too, little Miss." Mister Jo beamed.
The rain had stopped when the pair finally left the shop, Koichi holding a box and Mei a new cage with a small yellow bird chirping away.
"He was… surprisingly normal."
"You think?" Mei was smiling at the small bird, whose cage swung from the bars of her bike as she wheeled it back with him to the Mikami house.
"I think he's the first one to not sound like a manic depressive."
"I see." They walked in silence to the house, then she said. "Think about what I said, Koichi. There's something strange happening and if we're the only ones that remember it, then we're the only ones who are going to be able to do something about it."
He didn't want to think about it. But she was right. "Can I sleep on it."
"If you sleep." She looked ahead of her and started wheeling her bike down the street towards her home.
He watched after her, greatly bothered that she'd figured him out, before turning into the house.
"I'm back." He called.
"Oh Koichi. Did you go somewhere?" His grandmother asked from the kitchen.
"Down the pet shop. I thought I'd bring you another bird."
"My! What a charming young fellow." His grandmother sounded slightly less depressed. "You shouldn't have."
"I thought it might please you." He smiled wanly.
"Yes. It's very kind of you. Lets hang him up. You should name him, Koichi, since you brought him."
Koichi looked at the cockatiel, thinking.
"What about Yasu? As this one doesn't speak, he'll be peaceful and quiet."
"Yasu, hmmm?" Grandma looked at the cage. "I'm sure he'll be a good boy."
The newly baptised Yasu brushed against the bell, and cawed in pleasure at the tinkling sound it made.