Volume 1 - CH 4

“Hey there, Yoshi-kun.”

“Ah, George-san. Boo-san’s actually…”

A few days later, when George came to visit the store, I was the only one on a shift. The graffiti on the Clifton Suspension Bridge quickly made the news, turning into a major incident that shook Bristol as a whole. Whatever the media’s opinion, it was clearly seen as a provocation toward the city council and the preamble to a provocation. And as the graffiti was regarded as vandalism, the graffiti inside the city only grew in number. All writers followed Aeon’s example and revolved in their own way. Right now, the town and its scenery altogether have greatly changed.

I haven’t talked with Boudicia since that night, either. We happened to meet here and there during a shift, but I didn’t even know what to say, either. When I think of her, my chest tightens up, and I don’t know how to deal with these feelings.

“Actually, there’s something I need to discuss with you today.”

And since my head was full of Boudicia, that one line from George first sounded like some sort of misunderstanding.

“With me?”

“Yes. I wanted to tell you one of my secrets.”

Despite fooling around a lot of the time, his gaze now pierced right through me. I checked the time to see how long it was until the end of my shift and told him. He just sat down at a table inside the store and began reading a book. Once it was time, I grabbed my coat and walked over to George, who pointed at the door with a smile.

“Let’s chat while we walk, yes?”

I didn’t know where exactly he would be taking me, but I just followed him as he walked down Rupert Street.

“Now then, where do I even start…During this incident, I learned of his real name, but to preserve the respect I have for him, let’s keep going with “Aeon.” I want to begin with him.”

“What happened to Aeon-san after that?!”

“He’s being kept by the police, but he’s doing fine.”

“Thank god…”

There’s the police department relatively close to our ship, and when I think of Aeon being locked up in there, I honestly don’t know how to feel.

“That being said, I’m honestly impressed you managed to find the writer of that graffiti without relying on the security cam footage. Just what would have happened if not for you…I’m grateful that you were there to help, really.”

Just as he said, I’m glad we reached Aeon before things could have escalated further. But, the crucial part of it all was how things would proceed from now on.

“Um, what will happen to Aeon-san from now on?”

“We found out that the graffiti was written with paint of different coating so that it could be removed quite easily.”

“Oh geez…” I doubted my ears.

“He’s an employee at an art supply store, after all. He knows his way around that stuff. Although he didn’t tell us a single word about that. But knowing that he used paint that would not hurt the main towers, the judgment was adjusted. He will still have to pay a punishment fee, but he won’t be prosecuted at the very least. From an objective point of view, he had no intention of harming a historical building here in Bristol. Of course, the graffiti will be erased immediately, but the message he tried to convey came across. What a writer he is, truly.”

“Then the Bearpit should be fine, too, right?”

The moment I said those words, George’s facial expression grew cloudy. I could instinctively tell that something was wrong.

“It’s the opposite, Yoshi-kun. All I could do was soften the investigation on Aeon.”

“What do you mean?”

“Aeon never intended to leave the graffiti behind. His goal was to convey a message. And that was perfectly fine. A wonderful art turned into a courageous and righteous message. But as a result of that, more people have become vocal regarding the city council’s plans for the Bearpit. And you must have realized, right? There’s graffiti popping up everywhere.”

Rupert Street connected to Anchor Road, and we walked past the municipal hall. The ominous presence I felt soon turned into shape. In other words, the graffiti writers have received courage from Aeon’s actions. However…

“The city council decided to put stronger measures in place against the graffiti, choosing to purge the Bearpit.”

“No way!” I screamed.

Could something like that really happen? Of course, the growing density of graffiti in the city couldn’t be categorized as a good thing. But even so, Lara, Aeon…and everyone else’s passion, which I have seen up close, would all be erased. And I couldn’t accept that.

“And it frustrates me that I’m powerless,” George said so and bit his lip.

He must feel the same way as me. Is there really nothing I can do?

“I have no more cards in my hand that I could play—Except one, that is.”

We passed by the Bristol Cathedral, right past the windows of the science museum, as George suddenly entered a sidepath away from the main street. Right after, I was assaulted with a sense of deja-vu. I’ve seen this path before. Like I had come here before during a dream…Or, could I possibly have…? After we walked for a bit, we suddenly reached a dead end, with several garbage bins standing around.

“I wanted you to see this,” George spoke like a guide in an art museum, about to introduce another highlight, as he pointed at the brick wall.

“This is…”

I was at a loss for words. The wall was covered by a painting—of a lion. There were other smaller pieces of graffiti on the reddish brick wall. But the lion was resting in the center of that. His mouth was dripping with blood, telling the viewer it had just finished another hunt. The fur was drawn in such detail, you wouldn’t think it was done with spray paint. He truly looked like the king of animals, the overwhelming ruler of the kingdom. That’s the kind of feeling it gave off. It must have been on here a long time, as the fading color only aided the pressure. But, there was something else that utterly baffled me—I had seen this graffiti before. On that foggy day…

“Beautiful, isn’t it? Nobody knows about it. It’s my personal oasis. The person who wrote it may have forgotten about it, too.”

I didn’t miss the tag that was next to the lion. It was a round ghost, with the letters BOO written next to it.

“…Boo-san did this?”

“That’s right. This is the only work of hers that still remains. It’s her masterpiece. You can feel it, right?”

“Somewhat…It’s a sheer wave of killing intent.”

It honestly scared me. The lion was definitely sleeping. Looking at the blood dripping from its fangs, you could tell it had just finished its hunt. It killed its foe, devoured it, and is now resting. It couldn’t hope to compare with the other graffiti around. If anybody dared to attempt and overwrite this, the lion would probably take them as its next prey. That’s what the graffiti would make you think.

“Killing intent! I knew you had a sharp look, Yoshi-kun. Yeah, you are absolutely right.” George nodded several times, putting his hands in his pockets, and muttered while looking at the lion. “Boo isn’t interested in anything other than winning. This graffiti tells you more than enough of that. Is it the same even now? I honestly don’t know.”

I looked around, spotting something. On the opposite side of the wall, there was a narrow staircase. So this place…wasn’t a dead-end after all. If so, that writer I saw back then escaped up those stairs when they threw the spray can at me. But if that wasn’t a hallucination or a ghost, but a regular human being…Could it have been Boudicia? And if it was…The graffiti in front of me seemed relatively old, so she couldn’t have written it that night. If so…maybe she planned on overwriting it. Her own art…by herself.

“So that secret you mentioned…is it this graffiti?” I returned to my senses and asked George.

“I’ve never actually told anybody this.” He said with a smile, and… “I actually like Boo,” he said without any glimmer of hesitation.

I was once again at a loss for words. George…and Boudicia. Thinking about it, it wasn’t that odd of a match. He’s one of the few people who actually looks after her. It sounded absolutely plausible. And yet…for some reason, I found myself unable to accept those words.

“We got to know each other because of our parents. She’s always been like a little sister to me, and she was like that since she was a little brat. Not honest at all, latching at everybody and everything, but deep down, she’s lonely and wants attention. Almost like…”

“…a stray cat?”

George snickered.

“I didn’t ask to pick her up or anything…But I did confess to her when we were in school. She did reject me…despite the flower bouquet I got for her.”

A flower bouquet…in school? That is very much something that George would do. And I can practically see Boudicia blowing a fuse. What a sight that would be. All this time, I had seen George as someone who’s clever, passionate, and always composed. That, of course, hasn’t changed. However, right now, he had his hands stuffed in his chest, showing a sensitive expression. It made me realize that George was just another human, like me.

And looking at him like this, I wondered. George may have liked Boudicia…but what about her? Did she reject him solely because she couldn’t be honest with her own feelings? No…Knowing George, he would have seen through that right away. But even so, he had to bring that flower bouquet with him.

“Well, enough about my own feelings. It’s all in the past. As for what I’m trying to say…Boo’s talent shouldn’t rot away in a place like this. I would give so much for her to make a return.” He narrowed his ashen-colored eyes.

His expression, filled with determination, surprised me.

“But…no matter what I do, she’ll remain stubborn,” he said, to which his expression returned to his usual soft one I was used to.

“That’s why…I think you’re the one who holds the key to all this, Yoshi-kun. You’re my final ace in the hole to break up this situation.”

“Not Boo-san…but me?”

“I can tell right now.”

His smile was so mysterious. What role would there for me be to play? And since he wouldn’t tell me now, it was probably better for me not to know now.

“…Um.”

“Yes, yes?”

“You know the reason…why Boo-san stopped writing, right?”

“Mmm, good question. And yes, I do know. And I would like you to know, too,” he spoke that far, only to show a saddened smile. “But I can’t tell you. All I can confess…is this little secret of mine.”

He was right. But even so, I was glad that I asked. It let me make up my resolve…to face this lion in front of me.

“Anyway, I have to take my leave now…I’m counting on you, Yoshi-kun.”

As he passed me by, he placed his hand on my shoulder, which filled me with heat.

*

The city was covered with it. Graffiti of a bear wearing a pirate’s head, holding a spray can. And thanks to George teaching me, I was able to read the bubble letters next to it—Revolution. This graffiti appeared all over town. However, it wasn’t just written on the walls. There were also posters with pictures of the graffiti everywhere, with a date that would arrive in one week, adding an explanation below that—Writers, gather at the Bearpit.

Wherever you went, you could see that poster. I’m sure citizens and police must have gone around tearing them down, but they could not combat the sheer number. It changed the scenery of the town as a whole. And I immediately knew who had written this graffiti. And who put up the poster, too. It was a shock at first but didn’t leave me breathless. It was more like…the anticipated situation finally arrived in front of us.

Even so, it left my heart restless. A large storm was slowly brewing up within Bristol. And I rushed to the Bearpit. Because I knew something would happen there. When I rushed down the stairs, I was immediately greeted by an overwhelming sight. The usually empty Bearpit was filled to the brim with people. They each wore different clothes and outfits, but there was no room for debate—they were writers. Or people from the underground of Bristol. They probably rushed here after they’d seen the posters…Just like I have. And as I looked around, I realized that the whispering voices filling the Bearpit slowly vanished. Following after, I saw familiar beryl green hair sway up on a stage—Lara.

“All of you from Bristol…Thank you for coming today. I’ll cut through the introductions. You must know who I am…and it doesn’t matter right now. Compared to the situation before us, that is.” She spoke into the megaphone she held in her hand, and the pit turned quiet. “The city council decided to purge the Bearpit.”

Commotion spread. She stood on that stage, despite her small body. Gathering the attention of hundreds of people.

“Why is that? It’s because they underestimate us.” Her clear voice was amplified through the speakers, filling the Bearpit.

I was overwhelmed. All I could do was watch her speech in silence.

“They treat people like us…Treat writers like insects that need to be exterminated. They think that graffiti is just dirt that should be removed. Do you agree with them? Do you really think that this city without its graffiti…would be a better Bristol?”

The people answered instantly, screaming “No!” at the top of their lungs. Hearing this, Lara opened her arms and formed a fist.

“Bristol gave birth to a single hero—His name…was Banksy. He wrote graffiti in order to save this town. And right now, the city council has put his work into the art museum. It is quite the irony…but thanks to him, Bristol’s graffiti was elevated to art itself. That’s why we managed to come all this way. And what Banksy has given us…we cannot let go of. No matter what!” Her voice spoke with confidence and vigor. “I’m sure you’ve all seen the graffiti at Clifton Suspension Bridge. I can’t tell you who did it, but I’ve met them. And he said…he wanted us to know that there was nothing impossible for us. That’s why…there’s only one thing to do. We have to fight…with our graffiti!”

Her voice filled the Bearpit, and the people listening joined in. It was like a loud echo effect came into action.

“In one week…We will write our graffiti. Crews and factions don’t matter. We have to create one work, all of us together. Where? Here, in the Bearpit! We will use this whole space…to create one singular work. And then we’ll show the city council…that we writers…and our graffiti…are a culture that is worth protecting!”

As she stood atop that stage, her bluish-green hair looked like a flame. Her passion, her heat, it was all conveyed directly to the people listening.

“This is a revolution! In one week, this city will change. And the people from the city council will learn…that we were the ones who created the culture of this town! We are Bristol!” Her fist bumped into the air creating a roar of cheers.

We are Bristol—Their chants growing louder and louder. She then gave the megaphone to Peni and got off the stage. Seeing that, I slipped past the crowd and rushed to the side of the stage. As expected, she was surrounded by people, but when she saw me, she raised her hand and said Excuse me to the people.

“Yoshi! So you’ve come. Did you hear my speech?”

“Yes, of course.”

Her face was read, as she was out of breath. I knew how exhausting it can be to stand on top of a stage like that.

“Our Captain’s amazing, don’t you think?!”

“It’s the real deal of charisma!”

JF and Peni said so, and I had to agree. This must be Lara’s talent. I feel like she has it…A soul.

“Yoshi, there’s something I need to talk with you about. Can you come with me?”

“Me? Really?”

“Yes. It has to be you.”

“Oh…Sure.”

“JF, Peni, you take care of the rest. Yoshi, after me!”

Lara suddenly grabbed my hand, almost throwing me off balance as I struggled to follow her. JF and Peni were glaring at me as we ran off, but I had a reason to not decline it. It’s because there was something I needed to ask her.

*

We headed down Anchor Road, leaving the Bearpit after us. We crossed the large Lime Kiln Road and entered an older road that seemed to have been part of a citadel. Surrounded by stone-paved walls, we walked down the narrow Gasworks Lane, when my view suddenly opened up. I saw the River Avon, as well as a small harbor. It was created with stone, lining up small boats that were probably made for personal use, as well as restaurants and cafes. Unlike the bristling Bearpit and its oppressive heat, this place was calm and almost relaxing.

“Um, Lara-san?”

She remained silent all the way here, walking along the river. Eventually, I called out to her.

“What?” She turned around.

Her white skin shone as a reflection of River Avon.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Well…I’m sorry to have you run for a loop like this. I didn’t want the people from the Bearpit to hear what I’m about to discuss,” her faint smile my heart skipped a beat.

The dignified leader standing atop the stage during her speech was nowhere to be found.

“I have…something to ask of you, Yoshi.”

“…What would that be?”

“The upcoming event has to be a success no matter what. Failure…is not allowed. Because the fate of Bristol depends on it. After the incident with Aeon, this will be covered on the news. It might even turn into a historical event.”

“That…I am well aware of.”

Listening to her speech, that was all too clear. She’s trying to change this city, and I’m witnessing that very moment in time.

“On that day, we will all write graffiti at the Bearpit. That’s why…the spot up on the stage should be reserved for only the greatest graffiti. The shining beacon, so to speak. You understand, right?”

“Yes.”

“I’d like Boo to be the one to write there,” she said, her gaze piercing me.

“…So you want me to convince Boo-san to write?”

A gust of wind ran along the river, passing us by. In unison, Lara showed a defeated smile.

“I do like Boo, but…I fear we might just get into a fight again.”

I remembered their previous exchanges. And they definitely could get along. However, that’s also why Boudicia won’t listen to Lara. Because Lara is writing, and Boudicia isn’t. That part is much more important than it might seem. And as the wild building that she is, it’s hard to see weakness with Boudicia.

“I’ll talk to her.”

Though I doubt she’ll actually listen to me.

“Also…why are you not the one to draw there, Lara-san?”

Looking at how everyone cheered for her before, it would make sense that she’d also take the spotlight.

“I understand where you’re coming from. But…when you ask me Ghost or Captain, then…I’ve never once even won against the Ghost.” Lara’s sigh was carried away by the salty gush of wind.

I, personally, was surprised. I thought they were battling that whole time. And because they were like them, she could see the difference in their ability.

“Boo’s right. I rely too much on my crew, like the naked queen. I’m just a bit better at talking than the average person. But, my graffiti won’t be able to reach them. Not the hearts of the people.”

When she stood on that stage, her passion filled the entire plaza. But now that we were away from the Bearpit, she looked fragile and small.

“I can’t do anything on my own. But even so…No, exactly for that reason, I need help. And although I don’t like to admit it, you’re probably the only person for the job, Yoshi.”

“…I’m not too confident, so don’t count on me.”

“That’s fine. If I go, we’ll just end up in another fight.”

“Okay. I’ll go talk to her.”

Seeing Lara’s defeated smile, I felt the urge to do something myself. For Lara…But also for Bristol, and the graffiti culture that is alive here. I wanted to add to something, no matter how small it may be. If I hadn’t known about graffiti prior to this, I probably would have not cared at all, just calling it random doodles. I might have even agreed with the city council. But…now things are different. Graffiti holds meaning to me. And so does the Ghost of Bristol.

“…Lara-san, there’s something I want to ask you.”

“What is it?”

The wind here near the river felt great. And while I glanced at the small boats, I continued.

“Why do you write graffiti?”

“Oh dear.” Lara blinked as she put one hand on her backpack. “I really believed you’d ask if I had a boyfriend.” She smiled in a teasing way, as she closed in on my face.

“Huh? Wait, what? Why would I…”

“What’s that reaction…? How rude.” She joked around for a moment but quickly dropped her gaze, turning serious again. “Well…I guess it might be a good thing for you to hear this.”

The sky was clear, with a blue wall above us. And even though it was fall, the sunlight felt warm. Blessed by this weather, Lara continued to walk as her big boots clacked.

“I write…because I love this town.” She said and smiled, as the wind played with her green hair. “Write, be overwritten, and write again. I like how everything fits inside a cycle. It really creates this feeling that the town is alive. And because I love it here, I want it to continue this way.” Lara walked up a set of stairs and then stopped at the top, looking at the scenery around her once. “That’s why…I don’t mind if my graffiti is overwritten. But, keep this a secret from my crew. It’d just dampen their motivation,” she said and placed her index finger on her lips, as she smiled. “Yoshi, have you ever heard of Blackbeard?”

“Yes, once.”

Or so I responded, but I couldn’t think of anything. Rather, my first image belonged to a toy of a pirate with a purple bandana stuck in a barrel, and each stab with a sword raised the danger of him popping out.

“Blackbeard…Edward Teach actually was born here in Bristol. He wanted to create the greatest pirate crew in the world, only to clash with the marine. Even in his final moments, they say he fought with all his being.”

The white boats in the distance crossed the river. Lara continued to walk ahead, and I followed after I took a quick breath.

“Even the greatest graffiti will one day vanish. And I will be able to write eventually. That’s why…I want to write for someone else’s sake. If my graffiti motivated someone else to write, then the graffiti here in Bristol will continue on.”

“That’s why you’re the Captain, I see.”

“Heh, something like that. The name Queen Bear’s Revenge comes from the name of the ship Blackbeard was on. Even if I die, the ship will remain. And I think that is sufficient.”

Graffiti is work created by an individual. And even so, there exist whole crews. Up to this point, it was a mystery to me. But after hearing her argument, it made more sense to me. And I understand where all her charisma came from.

“I told you…I never once felt like I had won against the Ghost. Her graffiti…It’s like her whole life is on the line. Like a wild beast with sharp teeth, waiting for its next prey. And honestly, I think I’m fine with losing. I don’t have that kind of ferocity. Even if I happen to be reborn.”

I remembered Boudicia’s graffiti that George showed me. A wild beast…Ferocity…It’s exactly as Lara said. She then looked into the distance.

“That’s why…I don’t know why someone as dreadful and aggressive as the Ghost would suddenly stop writing altogether.”

That’s right…Why would she stop? Boudicia said that she and I are similar. And if that was the case…

“Leaving that aside…Yoshi, there is one thing I must tell you.” Lara pointed at me, the hill at her back.

“Yes?”

“I won’t give you Boo, okay?!”

The sun at her back was incredibly dazzling that I couldn’t even look directly at it.

*

I was laying in my bed at Manor Hall, looking up at the ceiling. Needless to say, I was thinking about Boudicia. I remembered her smile after we split up on the game night. Back then, she didn’t look like she was in pain…She didn’t seem like she was suffering. At the very least, not on the surface. Does she really not want to write? Is she fine not writing? She said she didn’t like writing graffiti. She’s not enjoying it. Those were her words. And I think she meant that. But at the same time, she stated that we were similar. In that sense, she may be right. I don’t like making music. I don’t particularly enjoy it. And even now, I have yet to even touch my guitar once after coming here.

I pushed up my body and opened the case—Inside is the Honey Blonde Telecaster. As the name suggested, it was colored in a faint honey-colored yellow, made of wood, and your average guitar. Even just opening the case made my breathing feel heavy, so I pulled up the zipper. I can live on even without playing music. And the same thing could be said about Boudicia.

But then, I remembered Aeon’s words. Life is like a never-ending spray paint…but what will that spray paint draw? I don’t have any music I desperately want to play. I’m different from our vocalist. But thinking that far, a thought raised through my mind. Why didn’t I leave my guitar back in Japan? If there was a time for me to play the guitar again…What would my reason be? The golden-yellow color of my guitar reminded me of Boudicia’s hair. If we resemble each other…then deep down in her heart, she must want to hold the desire to draw again.

Just like me…And I want to grant that wish. But how can I save her heart? My music…has no soul. In reality, I knew exactly what I was lacking. I just hesitated…Averted my eyes from it. The answer is always simple…which makes everything so complicated. And then…I reached for the guitar once more. For Boudicia, as well as for my own sake.

“Why’d you call me out here?” Boudicia spotted me on the park bench and grumbled.

Brandon Hill Park was right to the north of the Bearpit. It even reminded me of parks in Japan. The entire hill was practically turned into a singular park, filled with people panicking on the grass, people reading books, and children running around playing. And with the sheer size, it didn’t feel packed, which made it the perfect place.

“Boo-san.”

“Yeah?”

“There’s something I’d like you to listen to.”

“You better make this worth my time.” She yawned.

“It might not be worth your time. It’s probably pointless.”

“Geez, you’re not making any sense!”

“Even so, I want you to listen.”

Boudicia showed a bewildered expression. I carefully put the case next to me on the ground, opening the zipper.

“…Yoshi, are you…” Her facial color changed.

I readied my guitar. It felt heavier than I remembered. I played a few cords, tuning it. Even that alone made me feel uncomfortable. My hands were shaking, and it was hard for me to breathe. Pull yourself together…You can fade later all you want.

“The song is called Idioteque by Radiohead,” I said with a voice about to disappear, as my throat felt like it was being crushed.

I took a deep breath and then began playing. It was the raw sound, as I had no amplifiers or speakers. It’s a song I like from a band I adore. Except, I rearranged it and played it for myself, without anybody ever listening. It’s the song I’ve played over and over…and yet, my body wouldn’t move. I can’t put any strength into my fingers. I can’t even breathe properly. Did it even make any sound? It’s just like white noise. What I played…suddenly turned vague. And without the talented vocals, I had to make do with my own. Except, my voice wouldn’t come out. Each time I opened my mouth, it felt like water came gushing inside. Inside my head, I heard the words from my nightmares—It has no soul.

“You don’t have a soul.” Every single time I remember those words, I’m overcome with the urge to vomit. That I want to start crying like a little child…That I can’t breathe anymore. But, I still don’t stop. Even if I fall and trip, even if I shake in my boots, I want to pull through until the bitter end. If I can do that…then I don’t need a soul. Right now, I need to tell Boudicia something. For that reason…I will play my guitar and sing. If it’s for her, I can play my guitar and sing. And while doing so, I repeated the last line over and over.

Here I’m allowed everything all of the time.

Here I’m allowed everything all of the time.

Again and again…Until I reach that place I belong to. Again and again…Until I realized that the song was over. And at the same time, the final note I played vanished into the sky. I was completely drenched. Like I had been playing under a waterfall. I tried to say something but just started coughing.

“…Okay, I get it. It’s okay.” Boudicia looked close to breaking out in tears as she touched my arm with her left hand.

I sank down on the bench, placing the guitar next to me. I couldn’t say a word. And Boudicia remained silent, too, just rubbing my back. This silence continued for a while.

“Listen, Yoshi.”

“…Yes.”

I struggled but managed to respond.

“It’s your win.”

Normally, she’d laugh it off like a joke. And yet, now, she wasn’t smiling.

“I lost. The thing is, I—”

I interrupted her and raised one hand.

“Boo-san, I’d like to ask something of you.”

Our promise was that she’d tell me the reason she’s not writing graffiti anymore. However, I felt like there was something even more important than that. Because…we both have to move forward.

“I want you to write.”

“Yoshi…”

“Lara-san said that she never once felt she’d won against the Ghost. That’s why…she wants you to be the one to write the centerpiece at the Bearpit on the day of the revolution. She said that her graffiti does not have the strength to move the hearts of people.”

“I see…So Lara said that…” Boudicia lowered her head, gazing at her hands.

“…I don’t know if that’s the truth or not. But, I also want to see your graffiti.”

“…Same here.” She raised her head.

Her eyes seemed even clearer than usual.

“But can I? Can I write again…like you just played your guitar?”

“I’m sure.” I gave an immediate response. “I pulled it off, too.”

She laughed like a weight had fallen off her shoulders…like she was relieved about something.

“Yeah, right. And if you can do it, it’s a piece of cake for me.” She slowly closed her hand and opened it again. “You played the guitar for my sake, so I also…” She didn’t finish her words, but I knew.

After that, we stayed silent, just sitting next to each other. Only the breeze rocking the grass created any sound.

*

“Welcome, everyone! Were you waiting? I bet you were! I was as excited about this as my birthday when I was young! Why, you ask? Because today is the day that we change Bristol! We will be remembered! We will bury this place in graffiti! All of the Bearpit will turn into our masterpiece! And we’ll be the writers. We will change it with our own hands! Today is the day of the revolution! We will become a legend! Our story will become a tale for the generations! And today, this city will be reborn! It will be our city! Happy Birthday! And we’ll show those folks from the city council…That we are Bristol!”

JF stood inside a DJ booth built next to the stage, giving an announcement. And then, the stomping of hefty boots could be heard across the whole Bearpit. Over this whole week, the city was buried in posters. Everybody knew that the city council was planning on cleansing the Bearpit. And that the writers of Bristol intended to fight back. It wasn’t just posters, either. Some writers put their own graffiti on the walls, as the entire town was filled with a tense atmosphere.

And today is the day. For that reason, the Bearpit was practically burning up in passion and excitement. Not even the concert of a famous musician would be able to top this. Expectedly so, as all the people gathered here were graffiti writers themselves. They were artists themselves. I still don’t know a lot about this community. However, I was very much aware that Bristol’s writers were some of the all-stars of the scene. And with all these people…a revolution may very well be possible. At the same time, Lara went up the sage, as she received a microphone from JF.

“I don’t think we need any more words than this. What’s important is just one thing…” She threw the beryl green spray can into the air, accepted it again, and pushed it into the sky. “Let the revolution begin!”

Cheers followed. And then, you could hear the noise of paint being sprayed everywhere. The strong stench of solvent filled my nose. All the writers present began working on their graffiti. Meanwhile, the citizens had surrounded the Bearpit, watching this unfold. And surprisingly enough, they didn’t seem afraid or terrified in the slightest. In fact, they were observing this with excitement and curiosity. Even some parents pointed at the graffiti, showing it to their children.

“JF, was it? Despite being some giraffe, he knows how to talk.” Boudicia seemed surprised when Lara called out to her.

“Of course. He’s a musician after all,” Lara said like it was so obvious, but I was bewildered.

“Wait, for real?”

“He is a writer, but under his artist name DJ JF, he’s fairly famous.”

Coffee maker, graffiti artist, and DJ. A jack of all trades, almost.

“But more importantly, I should get to writing myself.” Lara closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“What’s gotten into you? This ain’t your first rodeo, right?” Boudicia called out to her.

“Oh, shut up!” Her voice was quivering slightly, depicting how nervous Lara really was.

“You’re supposed to be their Captain, so pull yourself together!”

“Hmph, maybe I should have taken the main role today, after all.”

Their words were sharp, but I could tell they meant no harm.

“Let’s go at it like we’re out to kill.”

“I plan on living on, thank you.”

Boudicia stretched out her left hand, and Lara reciprocated with a fist bump. Despite all the commotion, I could hear the sound of their fists touching. Lara then ran off to an empty wall, shook her spray can, and began writing on the wall. Her strokes showed no hesitation whatsoever. Every single movement was perfect, as more colors were added, the coloring mostly consisted of blue and green, with some pink. It really was very much like Lara.

The other writers were also writing on the walls of the Bearpit. All the graffiti was overwritten at once. And every single work was brimming with a burning passion. Right now, they all became one giant stream, causing a revolution. The artists who’d always battle with each other now worked for one common cause. Or rather—They were turning their own way of living into one giant piece of art. Even the pungent stench of spray now felt like I was invited into a big family.

The center of the wall up on the stage was left for Boudicia. And even though she should have started writing at this point, she still stood at the top of the stairs, her backpack at her feet.

“Boo-san.”

Amidst all the chaos, I called out to her.

“Yoshi.”

“It’s okay.” I gently placed my hand on her back.

“…Yeah.” She said with a quiet voice I could barely pick up.

But as she walked up the stairs with her thick sneakers, she turned around one more time.

“Good luck.”

Even as I called out to her one more time, the tension didn’t vanish from her face. Her expression seemed tormented, which made me feel anxious. Will she be able to write? She should be. Who else would believe in her…if not me? But…

“Maybe she’s feeling tense because of what I said?” Lara stooped next to me, seemingly having finished her graffiti.

She had her arms crossed, looking at Boudicia.

“Who knows.”

Boudicia dropped her bag on the floor, grabbing a spray can with her right arm. She pointed it at the wall, raising it. And then—she stopped. The feeling like something was off continued to grow inside of me. It’s not that I don’t have faith in her, but…there’s something else that’s not right.

“Hey, Yoshi. You sure she’s okay?”

Boudicia looked like she was moving to start spraying, only to move up. What Lara said was right. Something’s off. But before I could confirm what exactly that was, a sharp voice cut through the noise.

“The police are here!”

Police officers stood at the entrance of the Bearpit, wearing their bright yellow safety vests. They had large transparent shields in one hand, carrying police batons in the other.

“H-Hold on! I’ve received permission from a city council official for this event! What do you want here?!” Lara stood in front of a police officer.

Voices of shock and terror ran through the Bearpit.

“What are you referring to? Do you think we would allow you to vandalize this place?”

“What?! No, you need to check that with the city council!”

“If you intend to make excuses, then you should work harder on those. We’re here under the orders of the city council.”

Behind the police officer stood different officers wearing other uniforms, entering the Bearpit. There must be twenty people at least, if not more. They formed a line, ensuring that nobody could leave.

“…Everyone! Cease your act of public property destruction and disband immediately!” The first police officer screamed into his megaphone.

However, that first request was met with severe booing from the writers. Not a single person planned on leaving the Bearpit behind. And Lara didn’t falter either, despite standing at the frontlines and looking almost comically smaller than the man with his equipment. Meanwhile, the citizens around the Bearpit watched this in uneasiness.

“We’ve received orders. To cleanse this place, that is.”

“Cleanse…you say…?” Lara’s fist quivered as she screamed. “This is the place we’ve inherited! The garden we have raised! You and your foul values have no right to enter our safe haven!”

“Heh…A garden? This? I just see a hellhole crawling with insects.”

“And you wouldn’t see any flowers without butterflies or bees!”

“Now, don’t get too heated. We’re just taking out the rash so we don’t get any maggots.”

“The real trash is you! We artists helped Bristol become the city it is today! There are a lot of people who find joy in watching over our graffiti! Banksy’s graffiti can be gazed upon in the art museum, and yet you don’t understand its value! You don’t think about a damn thing! You don’t look at anything! Don’t feel a thing! You aren’t Bristol…It’s us!”

And now, Lara’s back looked incomprehensibly tall. It’s like she was a tall dragon, spewing at the knight who carried a sword and shield. And surely, I wasn’t the only one who felt this way. After all, the other writers cheered and roared in unison. Even the citizens applauded. Seeing that, the police were at a standstill.

“Now, Ghost! Show them! Show Bristol’s number one…your graffiti!”

Lara pointed up at the stage. The writers, police, citizens…All the gazes inside the Bearpit focused on Boudicia.

“Ugh…”

And yet, she still stood frozen. She held the spray can with her right hand, not moving. I could tell that she had begun to sweat. She narrowed her eyes. Yet everyone was watching over her. Waiting…for her to create magic. Except, I just felt restless. The image I had of Boudicia and the sight in front of me did not match up. Her hand, holding the spray can, was shaking. Like a spinning top coming to a slow, like a car slowly dropping its speed, her hand began to shake greater. And then, memories flashed up in my mind. When we first met…the fact that she’s bad at cleaning…the fact her writing isn’t clear and easy to read…what happened at the Giants Cave…when we played games. All this created a hypothesis in my mind.

Everyone in Bristol, in the Bearpit, was hoping for her to write. And I’m sure she wants to write herself. Because writing right here…would certify her absolute victory. Maybe she lacks confidence after not having written anything for a long time. But, she decided to win. And she hates losing. That was always to her, and yet—She wouldn’t write. Could that really be possible? Maybe…

“…It’s no good.” I raised my voice

“Huh?”

“Boo-san can’t write!”

“What do you mean? I thought she wanted to write again?”

“It’s not that she doesn’t want to…She can’t!”

“Yoshi, calm down!”

“…Pointless, all of it.”

Right as Lara called out to me, the police officer sighed once and returned to his senses.

“Disband right now! If not, we’ll be using force to clean up this place!”

“Stop it!” Lara howled as she grabbed onto the police officer.

However, she got shaken off right away, falling to the ground.

“…! You…!” She stood up and once again leaped at the police officer.

He had his shield ready, swinging down the police baton at her. Lara protected herself with both her arms. However, the baton didn’t touch her.

“Grrrr…!”

“JF! You?!”

The one to get between her and the baton was JF, the baton biting into his back. He groaned in pain, as his tall back looked broken from protecting Lara.

“Why?!”

“Heh…Why not? Can’t have those hounds hurt the Captain’s precious arms…”

Watching this unfold, the writers couldn’t remain quiet. Screams filled the air—declaring the beginning of a war. The writers tried to fight, but the police officers intervened. Fists and roars flew. But to me, it felt surreal. When the police came storming into the raves…is this what Banksy saw before?

“Yoshi! Take care of Boo!”

Hearing that voice, I was pulled back to reality. Boudicia was about to be restrained by a police officer. Her arm was grabbed, as she was dragged off the stage. She was gasping for air, seeming tired and slumping. She’s the same as me…when I couldn’t play the guitar.

“Boo-san!”

“Yoshi!”

Our eyes met. Her blue eyes wavered.

“Save me.”

It wasn’t even really a voice. But, I could hear it clearly. A police baton grazed my head. A spray can flew toward me, but I crouched down and avoided it. I lowered my body and started running, stomping on the aluminum stairs as I ran up the stage. Boudicia tried to escape the police officer, fighting as best as she could. When I stood on the stage, I looked around the Bearpit once and came to a halt. Why am I even here? What am I doing?

Not until too long ago, I was in Japan. I was attending a regular university, playing in a band. And yet, I now stand in the center of a battlefield. It’s unbelievable to me. And on top of that, the city council and the police…were my enemy. And even so, I felt no hesitation. Because I lost against Boudicia, and I have yet to fulfill my promise. That I would listen to whatever request she may have…And now, she asked me—To save her.

“Graaaaaaaah!”

I ran my body into a police officer. The transparent shield was a lot more sturdy than it looked, leaving the police officer unharmed. However, that was plenty.

“W-Waaah?!”

The police officer lost his balance, as he let go of Boudicia’s hand and fell off the stage.

“Boo-san!”

However, Boudicia lost her balance and was about to fall herself. I reached for her with my hand. I grabbed her wrist and then felt an impact.

“Ugh…!”

I held onto the stage with my other hand, managing to find a solid hold. The police officer who had fallen off didn’t get back up again. While I held onto her hand, I could see her face. She was tearing up. Normally, she would always complain, always grumble, and could never motivate herself for something. But in reality…she was probably crying deep down. I wanted to know more about her…And I thought I did. But, I was foolish. I didn’t know a damn thing about her. About the true Ghost of Bristol.

I put strength into my arm, using my whole power’s force to successfully pull her up. My arm hurt…and it felt like my shoulder would pop out any second. But, at least she was safe now. Boudicia was still bewildered, struggling to breathe, but she seemed more relaxed than before.

“Yoshi…I…” She tried to say something, but I interrupted her.

“I’m sorry, Boo-san. I didn’t know a thing. I just thought about myself…and yet didn’t even look at you properly.”

Boudicia’s eyes opened wide.

“I was the one who brought you here, so I will take responsibility and get you out of here. Is that okay?”

She nodded faintly, and that’s all she said. I had her at my back, going down the stage. The exit of the Bearpit was originally blocked off by a wall of police officers, but that was broken up now. We just have to get away. And yet, another police officer stood in front of us. And with Boudicia like this, there was nothing for me to do. Is this…the end? No, think. There must be something…!

“Raaaaaah!”

But before I could think, a low roar broke up the tension. A hefty boot rammed right into the police officer, knocking him to the ground.

“Lara-san!”

After landing beautifully on her two legs, Lara put one hand on her hip.

“Hmh, causing chaos on my own ship. No way the Captain could remain calm during this situation. I’ll have them walk the plank.”

“Where’s JF-san?”

“…I don’t know. He was probably captured.”

“No!”

“Enough. You have to go, Yoshi.”

“But…”

“Listen. JF protected me. But more than that, he wanted to protect the future of graffiti. And this future lies on Boo’s shoulders. If you really care about JF…then get away from here!”

“…I understand.”

Even if I can’t accept it, even if I don’t want to go, I have to make my decision. Because the spray of life keeps writing even now…At this very moment.

“Hey, let go!”

I turned around and saw Lara being restrained by a police officer.

“Boo! I’m sorry, but please look after Bristol…!”

We turned our back towards her scream and ran away from the Bearpit.