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マイケル・カニンガム
朗読:梶裕貴

    彼はなにもわかっていない。

 ロサンゼルスの灼熱を遮る、高速道路の橋梁の陰で、僕たちは代わる代わるにタバコを吸う。 彼の腕には、淡い金色の毛が生えている。 

 僕らはお互いのことを「おまえ」と呼んでいる。「よう」と呼ぶこともある。

 彼は親指と人差し指でタバコをつまむようにして、一服する。 物憂げに女の子のこと、年上の男から年季の入った中古のポンコツバイクを買ったこと、そしてまた女の子のことを話す。  

 すぐそばを車がビュービュー通り過ぎていって、タイヤは僕らのスニーカーのつま先に危険なほど近かった。こんなにも道路に近い、ひび割れたコンクリートの上に座っているのは安全とは言えないが、まだ若すぎて運転できない僕らが行くことのできる人目につかない場所はそう多くない。

 僕も、女の子について何か口にする。 何を自分が言っているのかまったくわかっていないが、調子が狂っているのはわかる。 突然(僕にはそう思えた)そこまでまだうまく話せない新しい言葉が出てきた。 

 「だよな」と彼はつぶやく。

 彼の黒い瞳は、まるで世界のあらゆることは全部、彼にとっては驚きであるとでも言いたげに、いつも大きく見開かれているが、スマートな彼はその話はしない。  

 僕は見た夢について話す––––木が燃え、狼たちが逃げていく夢。

 彼は気長にうなずいている。 たとえ中学校の一年目を一緒に乗り越えた仲間でも、誰も他人の夢の話なんて聞きたがらないのはわかっている。 でも僕は、何かを彼に伝えようとしているのだ。すごくプライベートな暗号だから、心配しなくても彼はわかってくれる。   

 「あいつらは僕を狙っていたのかもしれない 」と、僕は付け加えた。 「あるいは僕から逃げていたのかも。どっちなのかはわからなかった」

 「そりゃマジで怖いよ」彼は小さくなったタバコをよこしながら、そう言った。 伝説になるくらい有名な兄貴から譲り受けたというInxのTシャツは、穴だらけだ。 胸の上あたりに十セント硬貨くらいの穴が見える。  

 「俺はマジで怖いもの見たさで生きてる」と僕は言う。ふたりとも、 そんなことこれっぽちも真実でないことは百も承知だ。

 彼はまたうなずいて、指先で小さな穴をつつく。 彼はなにもわかっていない。 

 彼は言う。「このボロいシャツ、いつもなくなるんだよな」

 「でも、今はここにあるだろ」と、僕はできるだけ賢明で哲学的な、彼の注意を引けるような人間になろうとして言う。 

 彼は悲しそうに微笑み、独り言のように内輪の冗談を言う。 ダークブロンドの髪が一筋、汗で額に張り付いている。

 「今はね」と僕は付け加える––––お辞儀をして、ピルエットをして、風景に溶け込んでしまいそうな小さな踊り子のようにはならないよう最善を尽くす。僕にはわかってる、本当にわかってる、そしてそれについてできる限り潔くありたいと、どうにかして彼に伝えようとしている。 

 「そうだな」  彼は何の話をしているのかわからなくなっているようだが、それを認めない。 僕はタバコの吸殻を無造作に放り投げる。それが外国映画によくある、幻滅を表す仕草のように見えることを願いながら。

 「僕は自分が正しいと思いたいんだ」と僕は言う。 彼は同意するように頷く。 そしてまたバイクの話をはじめる。 彼は三週間後に一六歳になる。 放課後、ショッピングモールの<ベン&ジェリーズ>でアイスクリームをすくうバイトをして貯めた金があるのだ。 

 僕は彼の湿った巻き毛のことはあまり考えずに、話を聞こうとしている。

 彼はこう言う。「あのバイクなら、バラバラになる前にシカゴまでは行けるかもしれない」 

 どこか別の場所ということ以外、なぜ彼がシカゴに行きたいのか、僕にはわからない。 彼は最近、どこか別の場所に行くことについてよく話している。

 「ニューヨークでも行けるんじゃない?」と僕は言う。 「バイクがバラバラになる前に」 

 「そうだな。 あんな遠くまでも行けるかもしれない」

 彼はまだ僕らが一緒に過ごした子供の頃のことを大事にしている。 彼なりの奥ゆかしさがあるのだ。 それに、いやいやながらも優しい。これまでずっとそうだった。   

 「あれに乗ってどこまで行けるかなんて、誰にもわからないよ」

 車が何台も勢いよく通り過ぎ、音楽の断片を残していく。「空にキスしよう」は、一瞬で吹き飛んでいく。 

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梶裕貴(かじ・ゆうき)

9月3日生まれ。東京都出身。2004年に声優デビュー。
『進撃の巨人』エレン・イェーガー役、『僕のヒーローアカデミア』の轟焦凍役、『七つの大罪』メリオダス役など、話題作のキャラクターを数多く演じる。
2013年度には史上初の2年連続で声優アワード主演男優賞を受賞。2018年に著書『いつかすべてが君の力になる』を出版し、累計7万部のヒットを記録。TVドラマでの主演をはじめ、ミュージカルや朗読劇、さまざまなプロデュース業など活躍の場を広げている。
その声に、人間の脳と心に癒しの効果を与えるという「1/fゆらぎ」の響きを持つ。
    He smiles ruefully, telling himself a private joke.  A single ringlet of dark-blond hair is sweat-plastered to his forehead.
    “For now,” I add, doing my best to forestall myself as a small dancing figure, bows and pirouettes, all but lost in the landscape.  Trying, as best I can, to tell him that I know, I do know, and that I’ll be as graceful as possible about it.
    “Right.”  He’s lost track of what it is we’re talking about, but doesn’t let on.  I toss the cigarette butt into the ground with offhand force, hoping it’s a disillusioned, foreign-movie sort of gesture.
    “I like to think I’m right,” I say.  He nods agreeably.  He starts talking about the motorcycle again.  He turns sixteen in three weeks.  He’s got savings from his after-school job scooping ice cream at Ben and Jerry’s in the mall.
    I’m trying to listen, trying not to think too much about that curl of dampened hair.
    He says, “I could at least get to Chicago on that bike, before it falls apart.”
    I don’t know why he’d want to go to Chicago, beyond the fact that it’s somewhere else.  He speaks often, lately, about being somewhere else.
    “Or maybe even New York City,” I say.  “Before the bike falls apart.”
    “Right.  Maybe even that far.”
    He still respects our childhoods together.  He is courtly, in his way.  He’s possessed of a grudging kindness.  He always has been. 
    “Who knows how far you could get on that thing.”
    Cars speed by, leave snatches of music in their wake.  Kiss the sky lingers for a moment, before it blows away.
    He smiles ruefully, telling himself a private joke.  A single ringlet of dark-blond hair is sweat-plastered to his forehead.
    “For now,” I add, doing my best to forestall myself as a small dancing figure, bows and pirouettes, all but lost in the landscape.  Trying, as best I can, to tell him that I know, I do know, and that I’ll be as graceful as possible about it.
    “Right.”  He’s lost track of what it is we’re talking about, but doesn’t let on.  I toss the cigarette butt into the ground with offhand force, hoping it’s a disillusioned, foreign-movie sort of gesture.
    “I like to think I’m right,” I say.  He nods agreeably.  He starts talking about the motorcycle again.  He turns sixteen in three weeks.  He’s got savings from his after-school job scooping ice cream at Ben and Jerry’s in the mall.
    I’m trying to listen, trying not to think too much about that curl of dampened hair.
    He says, “I could at least get to Chicago on that bike, before it falls apart.”
    I don’t know why he’d want to go to Chicago, beyond the fact that it’s somewhere else.  He speaks often, lately, about being somewhere else.
    “Or maybe even New York City,” I say.  “Before the bike falls apart.”
    “Right.  Maybe even that far.”
    He still respects our childhoods together.  He is courtly, in his way.  He’s possessed of a grudging kindness.  He always has been. 
    “Who knows how far you could get on that thing.”
    Cars speed by, leave snatches of music in their wake.  Kiss the sky lingers for a moment, before it blows away.
    He smiles ruefully, telling himself a private joke.  A single ringlet of dark-blond hair is sweat-plastered to his forehead.
    “For now,” I add, doing my best to forestall myself as a small dancing figure, bows and pirouettes, all but lost in the landscape.  Trying, as best I can, to tell him that I know, I do know, and that I’ll be as graceful as possible about it.
    “Right.”  He’s lost track of what it is we’re talking about, but doesn’t let on.  I toss the cigarette butt into the ground with offhand force, hoping it’s a disillusioned, foreign-movie sort of gesture.
    “I like to think I’m right,” I say.  He nods agreeably.  He starts talking about the motorcycle again.  He turns sixteen in three weeks.  He’s got savings from his after-school job scooping ice cream at Ben and Jerry’s in the mall.
    I’m trying to listen, trying not to think too much about that curl of dampened hair.
    He says, “I could at least get to Chicago on that bike, before it falls apart.”
    I don’t know why he’d want to go to Chicago, beyond the fact that it’s somewhere else.  He speaks often, lately, about being somewhere else.
    “Or maybe even New York City,” I say.  “Before the bike falls apart.”
    “Right.  Maybe even that far.”
    He still respects our childhoods together.  He is courtly, in his way.  He’s possessed of a grudging kindness.  He always has been. 
    “Who knows how far you could get on that thing.”
    Cars speed by, leave snatches of music in their wake.  Kiss the sky lingers for a moment, before it blows away.
    He smiles ruefully, telling himself a private joke.  A single ringlet of dark-blond hair is sweat-plastered to his forehead.
    “For now,” I add, doing my best to forestall myself as a small dancing figure, bows and pirouettes, all but lost in the landscape.  Trying, as best I can, to tell him that I know, I do know, and that I’ll be as graceful as possible about it.
    “Right.”  He’s lost track of what it is we’re talking about, but doesn’t let on.  I toss the cigarette butt into the ground with offhand force, hoping it’s a disillusioned, foreign-movie sort of gesture.
    “I like to think I’m right,” I say.  He nods agreeably.  He starts talking about the motorcycle again.  He turns sixteen in three weeks.  He’s got savings from his after-school job scooping ice cream at Ben and Jerry’s in the mall.
    I’m trying to listen, trying not to think too much about that curl of dampened hair.
    He says, “I could at least get to Chicago on that bike, before it falls apart.”
    I don’t know why he’d want to go to Chicago, beyond the fact that it’s somewhere else.  He speaks often, lately, about being somewhere else.
    “Or maybe even New York City,” I say.  “Before the bike falls apart.”
    “Right.  Maybe even that far.”
    He still respects our childhoods together.  He is courtly, in his way.  He’s possessed of a grudging kindness.  He always has been. 
    “Who knows how far you could get on that thing.”
    Cars speed by, leave snatches of music in their wake.  Kiss the sky lingers for a moment, before it blows away.
    He smiles ruefully, telling himself a private joke.  A single ringlet of dark-blond hair is sweat-plastered to his forehead.
    “For now,” I add, doing my best to forestall myself as a small dancing figure, bows and pirouettes, all but lost in the landscape.  Trying, as best I can, to tell him that I know, I do know, and that I’ll be as graceful as possible about it.
    “Right.”  He’s lost track of what it is we’re talking about, but doesn’t let on.  I toss the cigarette butt into the ground with offhand force, hoping it’s a disillusioned, foreign-movie sort of gesture.
    “I like to think I’m right,” I say.  He nods agreeably.  He starts talking about the motorcycle again.  He turns sixteen in three weeks.  He’s got savings from his after-school job scooping ice cream at Ben and Jerry’s in the mall.
    I’m trying to listen, trying not to think too much about that curl of dampened hair.
    He says, “I could at least get to Chicago on that bike, before it falls apart.”
    I don’t know why he’d want to go to Chicago, beyond the fact that it’s somewhere else.  He speaks often, lately, about being somewhere else.
    “Or maybe even New York City,” I say.  “Before the bike falls apart.”
    “Right.  Maybe even that far.”
    He still respects our childhoods together.  He is courtly, in his way.  He’s possessed of a grudging kindness.  He always has been. 
    “Who knows how far you could get on that thing.”
    Cars speed by, leave snatches of music in their wake.  Kiss the sky lingers for a moment, before it blows away.
Yuki KAJI

Born on September 3rd in Tokyo. He made his debut as a voice actor in 2004.
He has acted many characters including Eren Jaeger in “Attack on Titan”, Shoto Todoroki in “My Hero Academia”, Meliodas in The Seven Deadly Sins
He won ‘the Best Voice Actor Award’ two times consecutively in 2013. In 2018, he published “Itsuka Subete ga Kimi no Chikara ni Naru” and sold 70,000 copies. He widens his appeal to other fields such as an actor in TV dramas and musicals, and producer. He has a voice includes 1/f fluctuation which gives relaxation to human’s brain and heart.

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