Tabi ni Deyou, Horobiyuku Sekai no Hate Made
Chapter 3 : Wings The boy looked up at the heavy, dark clouds in the sky. Only some moments ago, it

Wings

The boy looked up at the heavy, dark clouds in the sky.

Only some moments ago, it had still been a clear blue sky, but then clouds slowly caught up from behind and the sky turned overcast. The speed with which this happened could be called lightning-fast and the blue color that was there before was beyond imagination now, so that one couldn't even tell where the sun was anymore.

Unaffected by this, the green surrounding them hadn't changed. From time to time they came by some farms that had been crushed by the snowfall last winter, but none of those could serve them as a rain shelter.

"...oh well. Looks like there's going to be a shower. I just hope we're out of here by then..."

"Don't worry! People always told me that I'm beloved by the sun."

"Too bad. I was always called the 'rain bringer'. Guess why."

"Uh-oh-"

The girl giggled while turning around. The clouds that had been gradually getting thicker as time went by looked as though they would start pouring their contents over them any moment.

What's so bad about getting a little wet, some may wonder. But that is a sentiment limited to those who have hot coffee and a dry towel waiting for them at home.

They required fuel to warm themselves up, they had to light their fires on their own and they had to dry their wet clothes immediately. They would be in big trouble should they catch a cold. Even if it didn't lead to the worst case scenario, the two run the risk of starving to death if they are forced to stay at one place for several days.

"If things don't change, we're both going to catch colds. Who would be the carer in that case?"

"Usually I think it's those who don't have enough power left to care for someone else that are cared for."

"It's a duel over who'll recover first, then!"

"I wonder... according to my personal prediction, you'll win that duel, but I'll be the one who laughs last."

"...what do you mean by that?"

"Well, I can already see how you'll fall sick again after overhastily claiming the victory by reporting that you've 'recovered'. Without any foundation, of course."

"........."

He had hit the bull's eye. The girl used to be stubborn and overhasty from time to time. Indeed, the situation he described was definitely possible.

"And then I'll eat the melon all on my own! After all, it would hurt your stomach, wouldn't it?"

"You won't! We're eating that melon only after splitting it in a grand pinata contest! Got me?!"

The large melon they had received from the director was, just as he had estimated, almost ripe, giving off a nice sound when knocking on it. While the boy was simply waiting for the ideal time to eat it, the girl had apparently already decided how to eat the melon. The execution of a melon-splitting event had been scheduled - without taking his opinion into consideration.

"I admit your plan sounds great to me... but you do realize that we don't have a bat?"

"Uhm... then how about this?" said the girl, kicking Cubby's m.u.f.fler briefly.

"Don't even think about it! It's going to break if you do that."

Well, actually, Cubby wouldn't break just from having its m.u.f.fler removed, but he willfully kept silent about that. For one thing, he had not the least inclination to hit the road with the roaring sound of a biker gang, and for another thing, destroying his dear vehicle, the Super Cub, just for a melon after finally getting it repaired some days ago seemed way too cruel to him.

"Mh, can't be helped. In that case we'll just have to look out for a fitting bat somewhere on the ground."

"There's no need to insist on splitting it with a bat, though. I mean, it's not like we couldn't cut it somehow with a knife."

However, his idea had no chance of being adopted to begin with. The preparation of the melon had already been set to splitting it with a bat in her head. And he had no right to make any changes to this.

"Ah, a place where there is water would be great, too. I want to eat it cold."

The girl, who had (as expected) completely ignored his opinion, patted the melon on the backside rack.

The boy fully agreed with her that such a large melon would develop its true deliciousness only when solemnly split. It would be a waste to make it just a dessert. In regards to this, both of them were of the same mind.

It's just that the boy couldn't be as optimistic as the girl was.

Leaving aside the bat, it seemed improbable to him that they would find a place with cold water so easily. Of course, a streamlet would do the job, but one had to consider the current look of the sky. It was way too dangerous to be around a river.

He didn't tell her, though, as he didn't see the need to dampen her spirits.

Thereafter, the two travelers and their Super Cub just kept moving on for a while, driving past the occasionally appearing intersections at full speed without paying the least attention to the traffic lights.

The reason for this was the weather, of course. It kept getting worse, making the clouds even thicker than they had been before: even though it was just past noon, it was already as dark as in the evening, and once in a while they would even spot a thunderbolt flas.h.i.+ng up from between the clouds, which looked like tightly compressed dust b.a.l.l.s. From that they could easily judge that there wasn't much time left til the thunder-storm.

Then, when it became past four. Far ahead of the unchanging, dead-straight road, they discovered something.

"What's that? Doesn't that look like a warehouse or something?"

"No idea... I can't tell from this distance."

Somewhere ahead of their road, which cut through green scenery, there was an unpaved branch road that diverged at a right angle. And further ahead, he could see something like a warehouse made of galvanized sheet iron that was completely corroded by rust.

With his naked eye, naturally he could not see as much as the girl who had binoculars, but what they saw should have been about the same from such a distance.

Also, being able to see something with just his eyes meant that it would only take a few minutes to arrive there on Cubby's wheels. Since there weren't any other junctions until there anyway, they decided to approach the building for the time being.

A few minutes later.

It was indeed consumed by rust, but there were no holes to be seen in the walls and roof.

Along with a protesting cry from Cubby's brakes, they came to a halt and had their heavy load make the front suspension sink in deeply. From the engine fumed a steam-like heat, which could probably be attributed to the boy stepping on the gas.

The warehouse in question was in much better shape than they had expected from a distance; it was indeed consumed by rust, but there were no holes to be seen in the walls and roof.

The girl got off the tandem and the boy parked the Super Cub under a roof that was situated at an unloading area.

It had yet to rain, so they had somehow managed not to look like drowned rats.

"Whew, thank G.o.d we made it in time," said the girl relievedly.

"Yeah. It's not raining yet, but I suppose we're going to be fine here."

He looked up at the warehouse behind him.

The sheet iron building, which stood solely and surrounded by endless green, wasn't actually that big. In terms of size and shape it was comparable with a small sports hall.

At the front was a metal sliding door through which quite large objects could be transported, but like the building itself it was corroded by rust. From the looks of it, this place hadn't been maintained very frequently. It would have been to be expected that there was at least a sign of the responsible company or something, but since there wasn't even something of that kind, it seemed like this storehouse was not in use at the moment.

After he had shut down the engine and taken off his helmet, a large truck beside the warehouse caught his eye.

In contrast to the from-top-to-bottom dilapidated storehouse that seemed about to crumble to iron-oxidic powder any second now, the truck was loaded with a s.h.i.+ning silver container and parked alongside the building. It was clearly too new to suit this place and was hidden from the road under an overhanging roof.

"...There's a truck. Looks like we may be able to get hold of some fuel."

"Why don't you just take the whole truck? A journey with air-conditioning is waiting for us!"

"No way. Or do you think I own a truck license?" said the boy with a wry smile and putting down the kickstand after moving the motorcycle a little more towards the storehouse, so that it wouldn't get hit by the rain. Of course he didn't forget to carefully check the balance because of their delicate luggage.

"Who cares about a license? We haven't happened upon one uniformed officer, not even a police car, during our journey. Besides, neither of us has a motorcycle license and we're still riding a Super Cub."

"What I mean is that I have no clue how to drive it! That thing's not like a moped where you can help yourself by deriving from your experience with bicycles. How do you expect me to drive a 4-tonner truck when I haven't even sneaked a peek at the driver's seat of one in my life?"

"Then have somebody who knows teach you," said she a little dauntedly.

The boy shrugged, "Sure, when there is somebody like that."

"There is!" she declared, which got him eying her. A demand for foundation was writ large in his face.

"For one thing, footprints. Look," said the girl, pointing at the tracks at her feet. Dry footprints that looked different from their sneakers' were scattered all over the ground.

"Judging from the size, it's a man. He seems to be wearing sports shoes, so he may even be about our age. Taking the level of dryness into consideration, I would a.s.sume these footprints were made during the rain about two weeks ago."

"...In short, someone has been here recently and might still be?"

"Exactly! How's that? That's what I call 'reasoning'."

She gave herself airs, putting her hands on her hips, whereas the boy just breathed out a sigh.

"...If he were as old as us, he couldn't possibly know how to drive a truck, could he?"

"..."

The girl froze in the posture she had taken.

"Either way, if these footprints belong to a grown-up with that knowledge, do you think he would readily leave the truck to us?"

She was at a complete loss for words.

Even the girl was aware of how fatal it would be to lose one's vehicle in the middle of this savage --- no, I mean "vast" land.

Of course she was! There was no way of forgetting the trouble they'd had with Cubby's engine some days ago.

"Well, if we're lucky we can at least get some fuel from him. But I suppose trucks of this kind are diesel, so is there even gas?"

"......"

Her mouth was still closed. Apparently, she wasn't too happy about her conclusion being spoiled.

He turned away from his sullen partner and opened his mouth loudly.

"h.e.l.looooo? Is there anyone there?"

There was no answer. Still, the walls were made of sheet metal, so his voice should have pa.s.sed through them.

"Shall we just enter the warehouse for now, before it starts to rain? Besides, we may find a rod of some sort which we can use for splitting the melon."

A high creak resounded as the blockade of the metal door was broken.

They went for the large entrance that was designed to transport things through it. It was a pain to open the door with his bare hands, but the ordinary entrance on the side was sealed with wire wrapped around the k.n.o.b and the rear entrance was locked. Consequently, this was the only way inside. Of course they could just have broken a window and entered from there, but they decided against it, since that was going too far.

They didn't know whether that sealed door was the deed of "the inhabitant", but judging from the red rust all over the wire, it hadn't been opened for months.

The same, however, applied to the sliding door. This became evident when rust started falling down from the top rail while it was being opened by the boy's frantic use of both his hands and feet.

Hence, it didn't seem to be used much either. The owner must have been using the rear entrance.

"Heere... we go...!"

Along with a noise, red rust rained down on his head.

He somehow succeeded in opening the door by squas.h.i.+ng his shoulder and legs in between. It seems like using force can go well, too, once in a while.

"Well well... h.e.l.looo? Is there anyone?"

The girl hopped into the warehouse without even trying to understand the hards.h.i.+ps he had just gone through. Concerning him, he was stretching his legs on the ground and breathing exhaustedly. The icing on the cake was the rust that was all over him.

From what they could see, there were no leaks through which the rain could enter and it seemed stable enough to withstand the storm. The temperature was rather cool, too, making it "comfortable" overall - if you ignored the rest of it! However, due to the horrible moldy stench and the dark and gloomy air, they could not call it "comfortable" at all.

From outside, it had seemed like a simple barracks of sheeted metal, but this was not exactly the case. While the ground really was left bare, heat insulating material had been used for the ceiling and there were also fluorescent lamps, though turned off. There was even some weak air-conditioning for work purposes.

At any rate, it was a thousand times better than camping outside. Hence, they set this warehouse as the day's camping ground.

While dusting the rust stuck to his hands, the boy took a look around.

"This building isn't used as a warehouse, as it seems."

"What do you mean?"

While untying her hair - she used a hair tie because her hair would get in the way otherwise - she turned towards the boy.

"Can you see any commodities? Even just traces? All that's here is this..."

What he was talking of were the rather unfamiliar things that could be seen there. For one thing there were hand-made metal holding devices. On some desks, workbenches apparently, there were tools, much much better than the ones in his own possession, and various strangely-shaped utensils and measuring instruments.

As a whole, they looked as though they served one certain purpose.

Right, it was like...

"...A garage?"

"Yeah. I think those tools are for maintaining or a.s.sembling something."

All of the tools were directed towards the holding devices installed in the center and seemed to cohere. He didn't know what was supposed to be fixated on those stands, but he sensed that this place must have been for a lot of people to work on one thing.

"Who's there?"

The two were startled by a sudden voice and hurriedly turned their gazes towards the other end of the warehouse, just to have their hearts miss a beat yet again.

"Tz...! How dare you open the door and nestle in here, d.a.m.n couple... What are you doing in my house?"

He was about mid-twenties. His clothing consisted of simple slacks and a T-s.h.i.+rt, and while his body couldn't quite be called an Adonis body, it was one of a sportsman.

Just.

Just, what shocked them more than anything was his face.

Pure white it was. The decolorization the director had suffered stood no comparison with it. What could be seen of his skin was completely white as if he was part of a black-and-white photograph.

No, since there was shadowing, pure white might not be fully correct. He lacked color so much that it seemed as if he had been cut out and replaced by monochrome film.

"What? Is a visage like mine that unusual?"

"...Quite so. It is the first time I've seen someone that has progressed this far..."

"I'm no attraction. Get lost if there's nothing you want from me."

"Oh, actually there is. It looks like it's going to rain and our motorcycle will not get us far. Please let us spend only a night here. Furthermore, may we borrow a rod or something that is suitable for splitting a melon?"

The man raised an eyebrow.

"......A rod?"

"Yes. We have received an extra-large melon from a kind person whom we met on our way, but we had trouble finding a tool to cut it with. So why not use the opportunity and have some fun splitting it, we thought. However, we lacked an appropriate rod in our luggage," told the girl fluently with a perfect ingratiating smile and for a few moments the man just kept suspiciously gazing at her.

"...Help yourself and use what you want. But hands off the stuff I'm using!" said he, when he had finally given up, and left them, going towards a cot that was installed at the back of the room. Apparently, he used a corner of the warehouse, which he had divided from the rest, as some sort of nap area.

The girl breathed out lightly and turned around.

"Heard him, boy? Let's accept his good will and go searching for a rod as part of a nice break."

"Y-Yeah..."

He joined the search with a light dread of her forcing smile that would not let him refuse.

After all, one ought not to defy her at the wrong time.

For starters, the two went to a line of racks, which were stocked with tools and stuff, and started looking for a tool that fit their needs.

"Boy? How about this?"

"You intend to split a melon with a spanner? ...well, leaving aside the idea, that length won't work. Too short."

"How's this then?"

"A hammer, huh... it'll turn into mus.h.!.+"

"Mmmhh... then it must be this."

"What on earth do you plan on doing with that wire stripper?"

The boy was a little stunned at the girl who randomly showed him what was in reach.

But he noticed that the tools here, too, were a little strange.

There were all kinds and sorts of them, but they all were rather small. He thought he could find bolts and nuts in many different diameters, but even the largest sized were much smaller than the usual standard.

The man had sat down on a pipe chair and was watching them through his dull eyes as they bustled about searching.

"...hmph. A trip as a couple, not giving a s.h.i.+t about school? You kids must be full of yourselves, huh?"

The girl did not overhear the mumbling voice behind her.

Without stopping her fumbling hands, she ventured a counterattack with a small voice.

"Oh? I think that's still a good deal better than being a drunkard who's legless already in the daytime."

The air tensioned. He had heard her for certain.

"......as if a little brat like you could understand me..."

"Oh, but I believe I can understand part of a tiny little bit of you!"

She swiftly stood up and turned towards him - and threw something so fast it couldn't be followed by the naked eye.

The object that landed before his feet with its pages fluttering open was without a doubt her student notebook, which she always carried around with her.

"Take a good look at that student card."

"......what's the point..."

The man picked it up grudgingly but frowned when he saw the open page - as though he was looking at something that made no sense.

Her photograph that was attached to the student card had already faded so much that one could hardly tell whether there was anything at all.

Her name and student number had been lost entirely, which indicated that quite some time had pa.s.sed since she started "vanis.h.i.+ng".

The man widened his eyes slightly.

"My symptoms haven't progressed as much as yours, but before long they will! Well, it's just a matter of sooner or later if you ask me?" she boasted for some reason, which made him give her a slightly queer look, though he averted his eyes immediately afterwards.

"...hmph. It really is just a tiny bit..."

"Wha...!"

To stop her from countering, he tossed her the student card and turned from them.

"......You'd better eat that melon quickly and get out of here."

Leaving behind only these words, he stood up, pulled the shroud and disrupted their field of vision.

Their search proved to be much harder than they had expected; the clock showed seven in the evening when they left the warehouse because they had given up searching inside.

It was still not raining, but since there was no sunlight, it was so dark outside that one couldn't do without a flashlight.

"Man!! What an insolent old drunkard!"

"Isn't calling him an 'old drunkard' a little cruel if you consider his age?"

"What? You're on the side of that old drunkard?"

The boy smiled wryly, watching her kick one of the H-shaped posts of the warehouse to vent her irritation.

"Say what you want, but... we're having him help us out by lending us a rod after all."

"And there's no sign of that rod! That's why I told you to pull that thing off and use that."

"But that 'thing' is the drainage pipe of the air conditioner. He's going to be troubled if we just pull that off!"

"Why should we care?"

"We should!" laughed the boy,taking two flashlights out of the bag attached to the Super Cub. One of them he handed over to her.

"How's our watermelon doing?" he muttered and tapped the watermelon with a finger, making a dull, well-sounding sound. It was just the right ripeness. It could be said without a doubt that today and tomorrow were the best days to eat it. Otherwise it would get overripe. If they didn't find anything by then, they would have to split it with their hands.

Suddenly the boy recalled the truck that was parked by the warehouse.

He paused to think for a moment and pulled up the zipper of the bag.

"So in the end, what should we do now?"

"Mh... how about taking a look in that truck?"

"Truck? Aah, that one outside?"

"Probably, it's still loaded with things," stated he - seeming quite sure, to the amazement of the girl who followed him while c.o.c.king her head.

After they had headed to the truck and had closed the rusted metal door, the part.i.tioning of the nap corner moved slightly.

As it was clearly too dark, the boy turned on his flashlight.

Looked at from far away it had just given him the impression of a normal truck, but it was larger than expected when they got closer.

The s.h.i.+ning silver container looked quite unnatural compared to the deterioration of the warehouse. Another sign that the truck hadn't been in actual use around here here was that its tires weren't very dirty.

"Looks like it's a rental truck. See the mark on the license plate?" the girl pointed out. (TN: most rental cars in j.a.pan have a わ-car-number)

"Mh, did that man rent it? I wonder why."

"Well, for transporting something. Most likely. But the rental period has expired if you ask me. He's a criminal."

They examined it briefly, walking around the vehicle, and found out that at least the container was not locked.

While they didn't know what was inside, they could hazard a guess. After all, this was a loaded rental truck parked beside a warehouse designated to put something together.

"...So... in here is what belongs inside the warehouse?"

"I think so. If it's not in the warehouse, it must be in here," explained he and grabbed the door handle casually.

He jumped on the step and pulled the handle as hard as he could, whereupon the double doors opened along with a small creak.

The boy almost fell down because he had used too much power, but somehow he managed to keep his balance by grabbing the door bar.

"......huh? What is this?"

"...this must be..."

The boy was bereft of speech. Strictly speaking not because it ran afoul of his expectations, but rather because what he saw there exceeded them.

The two ascended the container as if they were allured in.

The cold light of his flashlight shone into the container and was reflected by translucent film on a long board. Although the volume of the frame, which was made of a snow white material, was extremely small, its length filled out the entire s.p.a.ce of the container of a 4-tonner truck.

In the harmonic play of darkness and light, the very precisely-made yet simple film and those artistic curves looked graceful.

"......don't touch that."

They immediately turned around and spotted the man from earlier.

The girl was a little disappointed because she had been wary of another rant from him like when they first met. She hopped down off the load-carrying platform, but for some reason the boy remained there.

The man turned straight towards him and darted him a drunk and shady glance.

"...you know what that is?"

"Yes. It's a human-powered aircraft. One for long distances at that," he answered promptly, making the man shut his mouth.

Right. That board-like, extremely long object was the main wing of an HPA. The transparency was the result of a thin polymer film that was affixed to its framework in order to decrease the weight.

The frame was supposed to be black since FRP is employed, but this one was white.

"...right. It was supposed to challenge the figure-eight flight at the Straits of Dover."

"That's amazing!"

The boy turned again towards the interior.

An ordinary human-powered aircraft is said to have a total width of around 30 meters, but of these wings only one was already next to 20 meters. It was no doubt a large long-distance plane.

"...So the warehouse was used to put this together...," said the girl and breathed out, now that it had finally sunk in, before she walked away from the truck. Something, however, seemed to bother her, so she stopped. "...Uh? Why would you put it together at such a remote place? You can't be planning to fly all the way from j.a.pan to England, right?"

"For a test flight. The Strait of Dover is situated between the frontiers of England and France, so it's a pain just to get a flight permission. I'm not so stupid as to go for the main event straight away," he answered while scratching his head listlessly.

"...Why on earth is it still in parts then?"

"...that's because all my colleagues vanished the very day we hauled it here," he whispered, leaving her speechless. "Halfway through the project, it broke out in all the members. Almost every one of us quit his job, since most had one, and continued to work on the project while living off retirement money. Well, but in the end we only barely managed to get the parts done...," he answered indifferently, whereas the girl had averted her eyes unconsciously. "I'm the last one who caught it and the final one left. And even I have gone this low... Hey, brat. Won't you get out of there now?"

The boy, however, showed no sign of alighting.

"...won't you fly it?"

Almost like looking down on him, he looked down at the man from the platform.

"It's not 'I won't', it's 'I can't'. There's no way I could put this together alone. To begin with, that's none of your business."

The boy let out a rather stressed sigh and,

"Alright, then let's take this apart and use it for our watermelon."

He proposed something outrageous.

"Hah?!"

The first one to doubt his sanity along with an outcry was the girl.

"Were you even listening to what he just said?! Boy! This is a valuable aircraft! Arisen from the collaborative work of that drunkard and his colleagues, you know?!"

"But isn't it mere trash if n.o.body's going to fly it?"

The girl could virtually feel the wrath burning in the man by her side. She gulped and took a step back.

"Brat... do you even know how many hards.h.i.+ps we went through to construct this...!"

"I don't! But I can guess. Making something amazing like this without any sponsors must have been unbelievably difficult."

"Then don't..."

The boy cut him short: "But you're not going to fly it, are you? You told us yourself that we may take anything you don't use. And you don't use this, right?"

The man kept silent.

"Making junk out of it or leaving the parts there untouched is exactly the same in terms of your hards.h.i.+ps being rendered futile! If you're going to let it rot here anyway, we'd rather make good use of it with our watermelon."

"......Don't talk nonsense!"

Surprised by his roar, the girl took another step backwards. Despite her motto being "Quarrel? h.e.l.l yeah! GOGOGO!", she was not good with provocations that were logical.

The boy might have been much better than her in getting the opponent where it hurts.

"Nonsense? Really? I think it's easily more nonsensical to let it ferment in the truck forever. We're not talking about wine, after all."

He flashed a fiendish smile whereas the man, in contrast, contorted his face.

"...then... what am I supposed to do?!"

"Well, let's see... wouldn't it be best to use it for what it was originally made for?"

"...what...?"

"Let's fly it!"

The man's jaw dropped---the girl besides him made a half-surprised, half-baffled face, too.

The provocative tone disappeared suddenly from the boy's voice and he continued smiling as if he were talking to a good friend: "You need help to put it together, right? You're not alone now! There are three in total."

The man relaxed his clenched fist and turned his gaze towards the aircraft in the container.

"......You're telling me to fly this all alone, though all my colleagues have vanished...?" he whispered.

The boy smiled wryly, "Well, of course. It's designed for only one pilot anyway. Aren't you forgetting that you yourself belong to those 'colleagues' as well?"

"......It's too late to go to Dover anymore. There's no point in flying it, you know...?"

"Mh, let's see... the speed at which the vanishment progresses varies from person to person... but you are clearly in its terminal stages. Added to that, it should be quite hard to make your way to Dover even with a good deal of luck considering the current state of things in the world."

"We have gone this far... because we wanted to break the world record of traversing Dover... flying here won't leave any record... even if it would, as soon as I vanished, the record would vanish along with me for certain..."

He seemed to be speaking to himself rather than to the boy.

"I guess so. But there's no need to abandon your plans for tomorrow just because you might die the day after tomorrow, is there? Let's do the test flight, just as planned!"

"Even though there's not going to be a main flight?"

"Yes. It's a thousand times better than to abandon it altogether."

The boy hopped down off the platform and stood beside the girl.

"...what profit do you take from it...?"

"Let's see... in return for our support, please share some of your fuel and food with us," answered the boy without thinking long - to the surprise of the man.

"...I see, you're not doing it for free."

Then, for the first time, he flashed a smile.

He merely moved his facial muscles slightly, so it was even unclear whether one could call it a smile, but it was the first one they saw of him since they had met.

"Looks like you just got us some hard work without my consent, huh?"

"I'm so—... I'm sorry!"

He had prepared himself for some pokes in the side, but that turned out to be a complete underestimation. The girl slid her right arm under his and pressed　hard against his ribs.

"Now listen up. Unlike you, airplanes aren't a hobby of mine, hence I do not know how to put those things together. Understand?"

"W-Well, I don't know eithe... OUCHOUCHOUCHOUCH!!"

"I'm not saying that I'm not interested, you know?"

The boy was at once released from the infernal agonies. While he was falling into a fit of coughing, she whispered next to him with a smile, "Now that's something... an airplane..."

The two of them went to their bike and started to prepare the things they would need for cooking and sleeping. Since they had used up a lot of time searching for a rod, they were a little late.

Fortunately, the roaring thunderstorm had removed itself a bit and it wasn't raining just now. The noisy chorus of the insects that lurked in the meadows around the warehouse had apparently been called off tonight; they all held their breath.

"You had me quite surprised there, girl. So you are interested in airplanes?"

"Well, as much as others. I've only been on one once before, when I went on a trip."

"The school excursion?"

"Nah. A family trip. To a southern island."

"I see... how was it?"

It wasn't clear whether he asked for her impressions of the southern paradise or the flight, but the girl considered he meant the latter.

"Oh well... I couldn't even see the outside because I was seated right in the middle row! On top of that, there were pa.s.sengers who were frightened of flying. You can imagine what a commotion it was."

"Aah... tough luck. Too bad for the opportunity."

"Yeah, exactly. I don't want to sound rude, but thanks to one pa.s.senger who wouldn't stop screaming, I was rather composed throughout the flight!" she said with a lopsided smile and pulled out a rolled-up blanket.

"Though I feel kind of sorry for that person for having to fly in spite of his fears."

"True."

A smile escaped her lips when she unintentionally recalled the now faint yet comical scene of that day.

I wonder...

Are there still people on that island?

Are the cheerful people and the gorgeous casino girls still safe and sound?

"Sorry for disturbing while you're rapt in thought, but you won't even get around to worrying about aviophobia when you board that plane."

They spun around upon hearing a voice behind them.

"After all, one produces the kinetic energy themselves. If you don't pedal for your life before s.h.i.+tting your pants, you'll really crash."

It took them a few seconds to realize that it was the man from earlier.

His wildly grown beard was cleanly shaven and the outworn T-s.h.i.+rt had been replaced by a new one. Even his haircut, which was short to begin with, looked neat now that he had apparently combed it.

To them he looked at least four or five years younger than before. Now he may actually be worthy of the t.i.tle "Aniki".

"Oh, you're more handsome than I thought."

"...I'm not so bold as to get on our plane looking that shabby, you know."

"Handsome" was actually referring to his natural features, but the man had apparently taken it as a comment on his well-groomed appearance. Well, but n.o.body wants to say a compliment twice. All the more if one means it.

The girl deliberately didn't say anything, pulling out the boy's share of blankets and tucking all of them under her arm.

"So, what's the matter?" asked the boy. With a smile, of course, showing nothing of the biting att.i.tude he had taken earlier.

The man, however, was rather fl.u.s.tered by that smile and averted his eyes while scratching his head. "...while the contract's only for a test flight, you have still become members of the team. It would be a bother if you caught a cold by sleeping on the bare ground. There are some cots inside, use those."

They grasped the meaning of his whisper as slowly as a fluorescent lamp would come on.

"Eh, for real?! But there's still one left for you, I hope, boss?!"

"Boss?" he wrinkled his brow a little upon seeing the bursting joy of the girl.

"You said we're a team, right? There's only one way to call the leader of a team!"

"No, I think that's just your prejudice..."

However, the boy's opinion was sc.r.a.pped.

"'Boss' is fine. We have to decide on some name anyway."

"Then at least take something like 'chief' or 'leader'..."

"No. Sounds too intellectual."

She basically claimed that he did not look intelligent.

In the end, all other opinions were ignored and the man's nickname was more-or-less forcefully set to "boss". In this respect, she didn't have the right to criticize the boy for arbitrarily choosing their travel route. Which he did not say of course. The boy was smart.

"...Aah, and you can do some light cooking. There's a small kitchen in the annex."

"Alright, boy! Leave dinner to me!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yup. Prepare our beds in the meantime!"

The strangely energetic girl chucked the blankets to him and sped to the back of the warehouse.

She was probably just delighted with the opportunity to sleep in a real bed again. And if he was honest, he shared her view.

"...Say..."

The boy turned around. Boss, still looking in the direction the girl disappeared, continued, "Since she suffers from «it», I guess you do, too?"

"Yes. Still in the initial stages, but my name has already been «lost». I guess my photograph is going to become unidentifiable, too, in the near future," he said unaffectedly.

It took a while until he got a reply.

"...What do you want? For what reason did you come here to the back of beyond?"

His question was drowned out by the sounds of the night making small ripples in the meadows around them, veiled in darkness.

"......I want to travel to the end of the world, together with her."

It sounded like a pipe dream indeed. However, what he said was by no means out of place and, above all, he was serious.

"...What are you going to do if you reach there?"

"I'll figure that out on the way! ...But well, perhaps I'll go on a round-the-world trip or so and demonstrate the excellency of Super Cubs to the world?"

"Sounds like fun."

A wry smile escaped his lips, which was not a sardonic one, but an honest one. The boy's confidence was clearly unfounded, but it brimmed with a strong will.

It did not matter whether it was feasible or not, for that was not the point of his dream to begin with. But the boss had the feeling that it would surely be a lot of fun, more than any game or work there was.

He had become unable to follow in suit.

However, he had his own objective.

He turned and headed again towards the warehouse.

"Okay, for today get something to eat and have some rest. We'll begin work tomorrow. We'll take half the day to put it together, so the flight will be the day after tomorrow."

"We're going to be busy, aren't we? ...Ah, right! Do you have some water here that I could use for keeping our melon cool?"

"There's a water tank that contains some purified water. Well, it isn't exactly icy water, but it'll do the job."

"That's great. ...Ah, but we didn't find a rod."

"Mh...... How about this?"

He pointed at the drainage pipe that was connected to the air conditioner at the ceiling—the pipe, which the girl had suggested to use earlier. However.

"Won't the cooling get broken if we take that off?"

"Hah? The only current we have comes from the dynamo! Only an idiot would turn on air conditioning. What a waste," he spilled, put one foot on the wall and tore out the pipe at once.

A few corroded screws flew off with a small creak, and the next moment a metal pipe was laid into the boy's hands. It was a bit longer than a meter, which was a truly ideal length.

"...somehow I have mixed feelings about this..."

His monologue remained unheard.

Surrounding the fire they had made from sc.r.a.p wood in the center of the warehouse, the three opened a meeting while taking a meal. Unfortunately, their boss' provisions may have differed in quant.i.ty from their own, but certainly not in quality: today's menu was canned hardtacks.

"Tch. That's what you meant by 'provisions'? I was already expecting a delicious dinner..."

"It's not like this is all I have, but the other stuff is still packaged. 'Would take a while to dig all the stuff out."

"Where did you get these hardtacks from, then?"

The cans were imprinted with English text and the corresponding j.a.panese translation. Moreover, it was marked as UN supply.

"The towns in these quarters were already deserted before we came here. Well, while getting here, we paid them a short visit, if you know what I mean," he explained, making quotation marks with his fingers.

His personality just became a little more questionable.

"What's wrong?" boss asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Ah, nothing, never mind."

They smiled wryly at him and continued their meal.

Shoplifting was a crime of course, but they didn't have the right to blame him for it. Breaking into forlorn shops to collect the abandoned goods had become an everyday occurrence, for one could not survive in this world otherwise.

"By the way, what work does putting the plane together incorporate, specifically?" asked the girl, upon which their boss set his can aside.

"...Let's see... First we have to a.s.semble the main components. Then comes the bonding of the movable parts as well as their regulation. Finally, we'll do a test drive and naturally the test flight. We should be fine since we have the manual, but it will take the whole next day."

"Do we need any special skills?"

"Not for the a.s.sembling stage in general. But there are some things that require experience, so you'll mainly take care of the odd jobs."

"Can I get on it, too?"

"No. It's my plane," he refused her request almost like a child, which caused the girl to puff her cheeks.

"Miser. Then give us your truck!"

"Can't do that either."

"Why not?"

"There's no fuel because I wasn't able to refill the tank in the nearby village. Apart from that, I've used quite a lot of fuel for small things such as making fires, so you'd run out of gas before reaching the next town," he explained casually.

"Y-You idiot!" she roared, "What happened to our enjoyable trip—roof, sleeping place and air conditioning included?! We have even less reason to help you now!"

"I for one like our Super Cub..."

"Boy, SHUT UP!"

The boy, who had even lost his right to speak at last, was forced to focus on his meal—which, however, was easier said than done. Their boss and the girl were busy stealing the can from each other.

"I will keep my promise of giving you fuel! There's still plenty of gasoline from the dynamo. At the very least, you should reach the next town."

"What about provisions?"

"There are still quite a few cans left. You can appreciate preserved food more, right?"

"Hm... it's a fair trade then, then...?"

The boy suddenly stood up.

"Oh, where are you going?"

"I don't want to expose our luggage to the rain, so I'm bringing it inside. I'll also do a check, since we've been quite hard on Cubby today!"

"Mh, got it. Don't get caught by the chupacabras!"

"As if they exist!"

The boy left through the half-opened door and let out a small sigh. He was relieved that the hostile air between the girl and the boss had disappeared.

He did not a.s.sume that everyone in the world was kind-hearted, but as it was impossible to meet everyone, he wanted to at least make a favorable relations.h.i.+p to those he actually knew.

That he had provoked boss earlier was also part of that mindset. Well, he got them a slightly c.u.mbersome task, but they weren't in a hurry, after all.

They were going to spend the following days together, so he wanted to get on as well as possible.

At least he thought so at this very moment. However, when he came back approximately 20 minutes later, after doing some light maintenance, he was a little cross with them.

"Oh come on! Just the two of you...?"

"Haah...? Now, now, why so tense booy?"

She suddenly wrapped her arm round his neck, which he hurriedly shook off. The girl tended to forget restraining herself when alcoholized.

"Where on earth did he shelve this...?"

"He said they bought a whooole lot for celebrating the success of the test! The stuff's already expired... but it's still good, you know~?"

"Listen, girl. We're still in high school, you know? Alcohol is..."

"There's no high schooler that gives a s.h.i.+t about such an ooold law nowadaays~" the girl laughed with her tanned skin flushed bright red.

The empty beer and shochu cans that were scattered around those two were proof that a grand feast had been had during the twenty minutes the boy was away maintaining their bike.

"But look, excessive alcohol consumption during the growth period has a negative influence on your growth..."

"I'm already sixteeen, you know? No way I'm still growing!"

The girl chuckled while clinging to his back.

She indeed had a point there, but judging by the feeling on his back, some parts of her body could still need some growth. The boy was smart, however, so by no means did he say it. He loved life too much.

As a footnote: the boy was a nondrinker to the core. So much so that his skin turned bright red in plaster shape when an alcohol-drenched patch was applied to him during a test in junior high.

As for boss, who was most definitely the patron of the alcohol, he was wordlessly drinking beer. Though his face looked serious as he stared into the air, it was obvious that he was drunk because he was red all over. He was probably the type of person that would get silent when drunk.

"It's been a while since we last had some alcohol... and we don't know when's the next opportunity~..."

The boy gave up persuading the giggling girl.

He judged that it would be better not to care about them any more. Since n.o.body has made him join in the drinking, yet, the damage was still low.

The boy decided to quickly evacuate to the nap area where he would write the diary and then go to sleep.

"Nap area" may sound nice, but in fact it was just a corner in the warehouse that was divided with a part.i.tion and consisted of five cots. But to the boy and girl, who had basically always slept on top of some blankets on the asphalt, it was a heavenly place to sleep.

He lay on the bed and covered himself with a blanket so as to not get a stomachache. He was soon attacked by sleepiness while writing the diary entry.

Before long, the only voice still speaking, the girl's, slowly faded out and the boy fell into a soft sleep.

The day dawned.

A noise of immense volume caused both the boy and girl to jump awake at the same time.

"W-What the heck?!"

The boy, utterly startled, jumped out of the nap area, pus.h.i.+ng the part.i.tion aside, and recognized the origin of the noise.

Boss was backing the truck into the warehouse through the front door and getting ready to unload the things inside.

Outside the building it was so silent that he could hear the twittering of birds far away. Apparently, it was fine weather.

"Hey, you two! Won't you get up already! We're starting!"

"Y-Yes!"

Where did the spirit from yesterday go? He hurriedly flung on a s.h.i.+rt and got into his trousers while jumping with the other.

The girl who had been sleeping in the bed next to him had degenerated to the embodiment of "inviting one's own misfortunes".

Leaving aside her richly stimulating clothing, which consisted of only her underwear and a blouse, her vacant eyes were the eyes of the dead. Her whole body was enveloped in the stench of alcohol and her hair was so disordered that she could have been mistaken for a Medusa.

She had apparently continued drinking for quite a while after the boy had gone to sleep and was now cursed with deep rings under her eyes that only added to her hypotension.

"Um... well, join us as soon as you're better!"

He took a packet of headache tablets out of their portable first-aid box and put it on the knees of the girl who had partially turned into a zombie.

According to what he knew from personal experience, she would take a few hours before becoming operative again. Most likely she hadn't even heard what he had just said to her.

With a deep buzz the engine stopped on the other side of the part.i.tion.

He put his messy clothes in order and returned the part.i.tion he had tossed away to its former place. He did so not because of consideration toward the lady, but because of the menacing death penalty that would come from the suspicion of having forgotten the consideration toward the lady.

"All right, boss. What are we doing first?"

"...Cleaning up."

"Cleaning up...?"

He was about to ask how they were going to clean up something when they hadn't even started, but he was immediately enlightened when he took a look at the hall.

There was the fire they had ignited yesterday in the center of the bare ground. Well, it was already dead, since they didn't use it for keeping them warm anyway, but the problem was what lay around it.

Countless empty cans and snack packaging were scattered about. And the most crucial problem was the vomit that was to be found at several spots.

"...You didn't have to drink until vomiting..."

"I have no excuse... Sorry, but I can't remember it at all..."

The boy joined the slouching of boss' shoulders with a sigh.

He seriously asked himself whether her brain was equipped with learning functionality upon considering the corn incident a few days ago and the current mishap.

"Oh well, leave it to me to throw away this... stuff. I've still got other preparations to do, so you clean up the interior for now."

"Got it..."

After letting out a slight breath, he headed towards the cleaning locker in a corner of the building.

"...By the way, what's with the little one over there?"

"She's idling because of a hangover and hypotension. She won't be moving for a while!"

"..."

The boss scooped up the pools with a mien br.i.m.m.i.n.g with mixed feelings and threw them into a bucket.

"Just regret that you carelessly served alcohol!" the boy whispered in his mind while watching him go to empty the bucket while making a face as though he was carrying a load of highly radioactive waste matter.

Well then! It was about time to start the work a.s.signed to him, but there was something to do prior to it.

The boy, in proud spirits, cowered before their luggage and took out a pig. Indeed, it was their ceramic anti-mosquito pig!

Be it inside or outside, one must not be careless. They did not pay much heed to it while riding the bike, but with the vicinity being full of meadows there were lots of insects. It's a must to take measures against them when staying at a place for a while for work.

Thus, he placed the spiral-loaded anti-mosquito pig at the center of the warehouse where the fire had been and began tidying the ground.

Contrary to the boy who had cheerfully started work, the awakening of the girl was accompanied by heavy discomfort.

Her head was throbbing painfully and her stomach was bewailing heartburn.

The reason was obvious. It was probably because she had poured way too much alcohol in the previous day—or rather, that was bound to be the reason.

Overjoyed with the alcohol she hadn't seen in a while, she had accidentally let loose too much. Or to be precise, she didn't even remember having let loose, so perhaps it was the most excessive drinking she had ever done?

She now agreed that alcohol should be taken in moderation—well, originally a girl like her wouldn't be allowed to drink in the first place, though.

"...Ueh... gh..."

She instinctively covered her mouth upon feeling vomit slowly wandering up, and managed to deflect the danger by turning on her valuable blanket while stroking her stomach.

"Looks like... I went overboard quite a bit..."

She had a funny taste in her mouth and her teeth felt strangely smooth, which led her to the a.s.sumption that she had thrown up a few times. Moreover, her stomach was empty even though she had eaten and drunk late into the night. On top of all that, her throat was rough and her voice in a sombre state.

However, the early bird gets the worm! Pulling aside the blanket, she slipped into the sneakers that were next to her cot.

That moment something landed on her foot with a weak thump.

While raising a brow, she sluggishly picked it up.

"...Headache tablets...?"

Apart from the opened, half-empty packet of headache tablets, there was a small note attached to it that said "Don't strain yourself and rest" with letters familiar to her. There was no name, but it was self-evident who the writer was.

Suddenly, she noticed a bottle of water on the small rack right beside her bed.

It was one of their two-liter bottles which they used to store drinking water. By it was an upside-down gla.s.s.

"...jeez... my fellow companion shows consideration at the strangest occasions...," she smiled crookedly and poured water into the gla.s.s.

She held the bottle against her side for a few moments to cool her body down and feel the refres.h.i.+ng water through the thin polymeric material.

Then, accepting the boy's favor, she took two tablets out of the packaging and threw them into her mouth. After she had gulped them down at once with some water, a cold sensation spread in her stomach.

With her sleeves she brushed away the water drops that slid down her neck and found another object on the rack in the process.

A wet towel.

"Does he want me to wipe myself? ...jeez... I know n.o.body that's better prepared than him...," she sighed with a combination of joy and amazement and accepted his favor once again.

Noon. The weather was clear and free of any clouds.

"Oh, you? Already recovered from your hangover?" greeted boss, who had just leaned a dustpan on a corner of the warehouse, while wiping his sweat with a towel that was draped over his shoulder.

"Yes. I can still feel it, but it's gotten a lot better."

She wasn't lying. Thanks to the mysterious effect of the headache tablets, the pain that had been tormenting her temple and forehead had almost entirely disappeared, and she was feeling quite refreshed after was.h.i.+ng her body and putting on new underwear. While she wasn't fully functional yet, there were no worries about minor work.

"Anyway! Sorry for making you clean up the mess for me."

"No sweat, little one. There's no way to tell which of us did what anyway."

"True word."

She may have giggled, but truth to be told, she could vaguely remember that more than half of it was her fault.

"By the way, where's the boy?"

"I had him throw away the trash. He should be back any moment."

Trash probably referred to the empty cans and packages from yesterday. It seemed that her dependence on his most appreciated nursing was put on show even here.

"So, do you have any work for me?" she asked and looked down at the floor—no, bare ground.

Most of the remains of the feast the previous day were tidied away. What was still there were the ashes and bits of charcoal in the center. It didn't look like she was going to join the cleanup.

"Let's see... wanna help me with some real work?" boss grinned.

She was a little hesitant, but still she followed him and got on the step of the container of the truck.

"Okay, let's carry the parts out of there."

"Y...Yeah..."

They entered the container. Somehow the disa.s.sembled human-powered aircraft seemed much more extensive to her than the day before. She knew that type of vehicle only by hearsay. She had not the slightest idea what function each part had.

"Don't be afraid. I'm not asking you to put it together on your own."

"But...?"

"Just place the parts I give you where it's written in the manual over there. We'll save the larger parts for when the boy's back, so only the little ones for now," he said as he went further into the container.

While the aircraft loaded on the four-tonner was quite s.p.a.cious, its surface wasn't particularly big. There were lots of gaps, so they could easily move within the container. In terms of weight, the plane was lighter than the girl. This stuff went beyond her scope.

"Alright. This is the first one. Can you place it on the worktable?"

He held out a component to her with a hand. No matter how inexperienced she was in mechanics, she was familiar with that kind of part. It was an axis merged with two blades—known as a "propeller".

"Got it."

The moment she actually took it, she immediately understood why he had handled the part so carelessly.

It was truly light. She was surprised—not only by it being as thin as paper, but also by the fact that she could hold it with just two fingers, even though the two blades reached a length of almost 140cm.

"Unbelievable..."

"Right? You could almost say the propeller defines how hard you have to pedal, so we put quite some work into developing it."

There was a very special something in his eyes gazing at the propeller. The girl didn't know much about him and his colleagues, but she figured that all those parts, including the extremely light-weight board, were full of their dreams and strong will.

When thinking about it like that, the propeller in her hands suddenly felt heavier than a stone.

Until she had softly placed it on the worktable, she treated the part like a baby, with utmost care—not because she wanted to be considerate of the boss, but because it was her own will to do so.

"But say, does the funny shape of it have a reason, too?"

To the understanding of the girl, a propeller was normally equipped with two or three straight rotor blades. Or rather, that's the only way she could imagine them to look like.

The propeller before her eyes, however, was certainly two-bladed, but the shape was quite unconventional. The blades drew a smooth half-moon-shaped curve and hence looked more like the ventilation fan of a kitchen than a propeller. Furthermore, she was also wondering why it was painted yellow, while all the other parts were white.

"Ah, yeah, the shape's yet another little highlight. It's made to get the best out of low rotational speed."

"But why are there two of them?"

Right, that was what puzzled her the most: there were two of those two-bladed propellers.

"Heh... that's... a secret."

"Uwa, that's mean."

Boss broke into a grin while looking at the offended girl.

"Just a little patience. Look forward to when it's finished. Anyway, next is this. Place it on the holding device that's labeled as 'A'."

"Whoa whoa!"

A large crate-like frame was handed to her from within the container, which she, startled, tried to hold in her hands.

It was a streamlined object that looked a little like a parallelogram with rounded corners, and was composed of s.h.i.+ny white material and was just about boss' size.

However, it was as light as a feather, which again did not match its appearance at all. The girl could well-nigh hold it in one hand.

Holding it aloft, she brought it to said place with rather wobbly legs. The stand