Black Fairy Tale by Otsuichi

Author:Otsuichi
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
ISBN: 9784089600054
Publisher: Shueisha English Edition
Published: 2016-06-10T04:00:00+00:00

The Eye’s Memory — Conclusion

3

One day, the girl sat in the chair at the window and said, “I’m afraid . . .”

She placed two of the stoppers the raven had given her into the two holes in her face and began to tremble. The two eyes were oriented in separate directions; regardless, she seemed to be taking in the sights the round objects had observed.

“What are you afraid of, miss?”

He had given her two new bloody presents straight from his beak.

“The stoppers you bring me—when I use them like this, wondrous dreams fill my head. It’s a marvelous experience for someone like me, someone who can’t see anything. But the stoppers you bring me always show the same frightening thing. I hadn’t noticed it until recently.”

“A frightening thing?”

She nodded, and one of the eyes she had placed in a socket plopped out to the floor. She picked it up and put it into the glass jar where she saved all the eyes. The jar was already filled to the brim.

The raven asked what the frightening thing was. But the girl only shook her head.

“I don’t know. I only see it for a split second. It looks like a monster, and somehow I know I should be afraid of it. But . . .”

She changed her fearful expression into a smile and turned toward the raven.

“Don’t think anything of it. Your presents are always wonderful. I’m alone in the darkness, and the light and color you bring me are the only things that give me comfort. I can never express how much you have done for me.”

The girl held out her hands to the raven perched on the table. He realized she probably wanted him to hold her hand. There was a scene like that in one of his favorite movies. But her face and her hands were at a slight upward angle. If the raven had been a human and not a bird, her hands might have been around his face.

“Won’t you tell me your name, mister? Are you really real? I’ve never touched your hands . . .”

The raven’s heart felt like it was about to break. He couldn’t let her touch him. He was a bird. If the girl ever learned that he wasn’t a person, it would only hurt her.

“I’m sorry, miss. I cannot hold your hand. Several years ago, while traveling in a foreign land, I caught a terrible illness. If you were to touch me you would become infected. Miss, the second you touched my body you wouldn’t be able to stop hiccuping.”

The raven flew out the window. The girl said something behind his tail feathers, but he kept on flapping his wings. A sadness clutched his avian breast. The raven couldn’t understand the feelings inside him.

He turned toward the town in search of a new present for the girl. He had to work cautiously. Lately, the humans had become wary of ravens.

Many had witnessed the raven’s attacks, and it was known throughout the town that a black bird was picking eyeballs from people’s faces.

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