Nan-Core by Mahokaru Numata

had been a Sunday. Dad had taken us to the Takashimaya department store in Namba. We were in the middle of eating lunch in the food court when a man we’d never seen before came over. Dad sprang to his feet. I worked out from their conversation that the man had been a colleague of Dad’s from his old job in Tokyo. The man animatedly explained that he had left that job, too, a few years earlier to take over the family business; that he was from Osaka originally and was out visiting clients even though it was a Sunday. When they said goodbye the man suggested they get together for a drink sometime soon and offered Dad his business card. When Dad said he had forgotten to bring his, the man pulled out an address book and copied down the name and number of Dad’s workplace. Yohei and I looked at each other—Dad had given the man a completely fictitious name, and probably a made-up number, too. To make things worse, when he’d paid for the microscope, I had happened to see him pull his cardholder from his inside pocket along with his wallet, while Yohei busily grinned and pawed at the top of the box.
    When the man was gone, Yohei innocently asked Dad why he’d told the man a lie. Even then I knew it was probably better not to ask.
    A long time ago he stole money from the company, he’s a bad person, it’s better we keep our distance
. That was Dad’s response. There was sweat on his forehead. I remembered being suddenly seized by a bizarre worry that it was in fact Dad and not the other man who had embezzled from the company. In hindsight, it was obvious Dad would never have done such a thing. He had always been light on worldly desires.
    But Yohei didn’t seem to remember it at all. “When he bought the microscope from Takashimaya? I can recall that day pretty clearly, you know. You sure you’re not getting that memory mixed up with something else? Or maybe it’s some hodgepodge of fantasy and memory.”
    “Don’t talk nonsense.”
    “I mean, sure, Mom and Dad might have been a little insular, but come on, they were honest, upstanding citizens otherwise.”
    “All right, what about this. Don’t normal parents like to tell their kids about when they were young, about their own childhoods? We hardly know a thing, only that Dad lost his parents when he was a kid. They never told us about how they met, what their lives were like before they were a couple. Plus, they never told us about when we were babies. It was like they purposefully avoided bringing up the past. Something happened back then, I’m sure of it.”
    “But Mom told me all about the time I was born. They were worried because I only weighed a little over five pounds. And I had downy hair, with fine black strands even on my back.”
    Yohei couldn’t possibly know how much of a shock it was for me to hear that. “Mom told you all that?”
    “Yeah.”
    I watched him as he dug into his pear pie and felt a lonely chill spread through my bosom. “I bet that was when I wasn’t around. It fits, since you were born after the move to Komagawa. She wouldn’t have said anything if I was there. If she told you about the time you were born, she’d have to do the same for me. I don’t remember her ever telling me where I was born or what the experience was like. And all the photos, right? You know, they all got burned up years before in that fire, so not a single one was left.”
    “I don’t really get it, but … You really, truly believe it, don’t you? That Mom was switched with someone else when we moved to Komagawa.”
    For the first time Yohei looked bewildered. Or maybe his expression was closer to fear. I couldn’t tell whether he was scared because he had started to doubt Mom and Dad, or whether he was simply scared of me.

5
    The next day was a Saturday. There was a cool breeze and a light covering of clouds. Shaggy Head was fairly bustling, in the dog run and inside, and yet I was finding it impossible to concentrate on work. I was getting