Editing Tabi ni Deyou:Wings

'''(12% translated)'''

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

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

Unaffected by this, the green that was 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 until 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 gaining thickness as time went by looked as though they would start pouring their contents over them at 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 ignite 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 doesn'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 a cold. 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 about who's recovered first, then!"

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

"...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 realize that we don't have a bat?"

"Uhm... then how about this?" said the girl and kicked Cubby's muffler briefly.

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

Well, actually, Cubby wouldn't break yet just by removing its muffler, but he willfully kept silent about this. For one thing, he had not in the least the intention 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 getting it finally 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 get it cut somehow with a knife."

However, his idea had no chances of getting 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 rights 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 about the fact 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. As in regards of 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 a need to damp her spirits.


Thereafter, the two travelers and their Super Cub just kept moving on for a while and drove 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 had kept getting worse, making the clouds even thicker than they had been before: even though it had only just been noon, it was already as dark as in the evening, and once in a while they could even spot a thunderbolt flashing up between the clouds, which looked like tightly compressed dust balls. From that sight they could easily judge that there wasn't much distance to the thunder-storm.

Then, when it became past four. Far ahead of the unchangingly 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 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 bare eyes, he could naturally not see as much as the girl with binoculars, but what they saw should have been about the same from such a distance.

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


A few minutes later.
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Along with a protesting cry of Cubby's break, 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 quite stepping on the gas.

The warehouse in question was in a much better shape than they had expected from the 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 still not started to rain, so they had somehow managed not to become like drowned rats.

"Whew, thank God 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, was actually not 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 look 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 besides the house caught his eye.

In contrast to the from-top-to-bottom dilapidated storehouse that almost seemed to crumble down to iron-oxidic powder any second, the truck was loaded with a shining silver container and parked alongside the building. It was clearly too new to suit this place and stopped under a overhanging roof, hidden from the road.

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

"Why don't you just snatch 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 put down the kickstand after moving the motorcycle a little more towards storehouse, so that it wouldn't get hit by the rain. Of course he didn't forget to carefully make sure of 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 yet. Besides, neither of us has a motorcycle license and still we're 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 a 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 and 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 wear sports shoes, so he may even be about our age. Taking the level of dryness into consideration, I would assume 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 those 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 of words.

Even the girl was aware of how fatal it was 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 best get some fuel from him. But I suppose trucks of this kind are diesel-engined, 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 the mouth widely to get a loud voice from it.

"Hellooooo? Is there anyoone?"

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

"Shall we just enter the house 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 being 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 knob 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, for this would go 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 either. The owner must have been taking 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 squashing his shoulder and legs in between. It seems like using force can go well, too, once in a while.

"Well well... Hellooo? Is there anyoone?"

The girl hopped into the warehouse without even trying to understand the hardships he just went 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 it were just for those aspects! However, due to the horrible moldy stench and the dark and gloomy air, they could not call it that at all.

Seen from outside, it had seemed like a simple barrack made 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 sticked 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 maintenance stands. 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 assembling something."

All of the tools were directed towards the maintenance stands installed in the center and seemed to cohere. He didn't know what was 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, damn couple... What are you doing in my house?"


He was about in the middle of his twenties. His clothing consisted of simple slacks and a T-shirt, 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.<!-- needs to be checked later -->

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

"...Quite so. It is the first time I see 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 suited 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 underway, but we had trouble finding a tool to cut it. So why don't 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 out. Too short."

"How's this then?"

"A hammer, huh... it'll turn into mush!"

"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. There 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 bustle about searching.

"...hmph. A trip in twos, giving a shit 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 traced by the eyes.

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 passed since she started "vanishing". 

The man rounded 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 and later if you ask me?" boasted she for some reason, which made him give her a slightly queer look, though he averted his eyes right after it.

"...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, moved the partitioning and disrupted their field of vision.



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Their search proved to be much harder than they had expected; the clock showed seven in the evening at the time 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 cooling. He's going to be troubled if we just pull that off!"

"Why should we care?"

"We should!" laughed the boy and took 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 with a finger on the watermelon, which made 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 until 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 cocking her head.

After they had headed to the truck and had closed the rusted metal door, the partitioning 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 nearer.

The shining silver container looked quite unnatural compared with 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?" pointed the girl out. (TN: most rental cars in Japan 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 presume it. After all, this was a loaded rental truck parked beside a warehouse designated to put something together.

"...So... in here is what belongs into 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 space 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 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," answered he promptly, making the man shut his mouth.

Right. That board-like, extremely long object was a main wing of a HPA. The transparency was a 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 Strait 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 is used to put this together...," said the girl and breathed out, now that it 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 Japan 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," answered he while scratching his head listlessly.

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

"...that's because all my colleagues vanished on the very day we hauled it here," whispered he, leaving her speechless. "Halfway through the project, it broke out in all members. Almost everyone of us quit his job, since most had one, and continued to work on the project while living from retirement money. Well, but in the end we only barely managed to get the parts done...," answered he 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 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 to pieces 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.

"Have you even listened 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 nobody'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 hardships 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 that your hardships are being rendered futile! If you're going to let it rot here anyway, we 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? Hell 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's originally been 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...?" whispered he.

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 stage. Added to that, it should be quite hard to make your way to Dover even with a good deal of luck at 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 rather speaking to himself than to the boy.

"I guess so. But there's no need to abandon your plans for tomorrow 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 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, so you're not doing it for free."

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


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



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[in translation]