“Niwa-kun, do ya work part-time?”
Monday, June 7th, in a high school second year cla.s.sroom, the time when Mifune Ryuushi-san — a cla.s.smate of the same grade — asked me this question was when lunch was halfway till over.
Finished with our lunch, we were sipping on our aluminum-packaged tea.
“I thought about getting one in a bit, since I"m not in a club anyway.”
Besides, I"m living under someone else"s roof. Living in other"s house without doing anything will, for some reason, always unsettles people. This was my impression after living here for two months.
Though perhaps in a few more months, this would change.
“Is that so? If ya get your first paycheck, shouldn"t ya buy me a juice?” Ahaha! Ryuushi-san laughed cheerfully; a flower unconcealable by even the rowdiness bloomed in the cla.s.sroom.
Ryuushi-san is so cute! I complimented freely in my heart. But I couldn"t say it out loud.
Eating, drinking and talking with a cute girl. In a way, this is known as a school date. Then according to this definition, would chatting happily with the lady in front of the train station"s bookstore who is recruiting for an English cla.s.s be called a recruitment date? Though questions rose, this was just a made-up phrase that does not need to be concluded as a thesaurus.
“What about you, Ryuushi-san?”
“I told ya to call me Ryuuko! I, hmm, probably won"t.”
“Huh, you won"t?”
“Money cannot buy what"s important.”
“That phrase doesn"t really work here.”
Sorry for splashing cold water when you sound so proud.
“Ahh~ but I"m so busy after school with just club stuff, and I don"t really need ta spend money… Hm, I"m like, y"know, super open and stuff! Ya know from just looking that I"m different, not some boring, same-faced character! Don"t let the rumors get ya!”
What baseless, shameless rumor! Ryuushi-san sucked on the straw stuck in the black tea that she had since this noon. Actually, no one ever gave her a nickname like "the Horizon" or anything like that.
Someone who looks different from just a glance… In all the people I know, there are probably two who fit the bill. One"s an alien, the other a certain lanky person. Meme-san is different in a way, but I might be cursed if I counted her as one. I will unfortunately have to give up on that thought!
“Oh well, let"s drop this character topic like it"s hot trash. Oh yeah? I guess it won"t work then!”
“Slurm?” The result of drinking while questioning is the mixture of sound, Ryuushi-san!
“Uh… What I"m saying is, I was going to ask if you"re free after school today, but I guess not, huh?”
“Slurm.”
Ryuushi-san"s motion stopped instantly. As if she just consciously thought of doing it, she swallowed the beverage in her mouth and put the package on the table. Her friend pa.s.sed from behind us and laughed after seeing us as an item.
“"Let"s go somewhere again~ Alright~!" Is that what you meant?”
Ryuushi-san"s eyes were as if spying. The rubbing of desk and floor screeched intermittently, following her wobbling body.
“Mm, that sounds right. I mean, if you could come with me to buy a few things, it would have been— Uh… If you"re busy, then it"s fine.”
“Woowhoa~ Wait—“
Ryuushi-san"s right palm reached toward my mouth, her fingers waving about as if trying to block the movement of my lips. And like a trained hound, I shut my lips and waited for her response.
“Wuu… Bam, bam, pa.s.s, pa.s.s, dribble; Nice shot… Yay~ backup starting lineup Ryuushi~! ...Niwa-kun, pedal pedal… Eeyahoo… What a headache!”
Absorbed in her own world, Ryuushi-san dribbled on an imaginary basketball and tried to ring an invisible bicycle bell, conveying to the world her thoughts in a never-before-seen mime form. But I panicked, since my invitation was neither significant nor important enough for her to weigh it so:
“It"s seriously not a big deal: your club should come first.”
“Hm~ Um, did ya already decide on what you"re getting, Niwa-kun? Or are ya the people who go into every store?” Ryuushi-san is actually the type who doesn"t listen well. So far the most frank person may actually be Erio.
Sigh, but if it comes to misinterpreting the most direct response, no one is better than Meme-san.
“Ah, well~ My cousin seems to be celebrating her birthday today; I thought maybe I should get her something.” I of course didn"t use the name Erio, instead calling her cousin.
“You cousin, Touwa-san?”
But the charade was seen through. Talking like this made it seem like it was reproachable to even mention the name "Erio" in a public place. Indeed, the notoriety of Erio raises the eyebrows of everyone living in this town. Since she doesn"t go out either, no one knew that she was kind of back from outer s.p.a.ce.
“I don"t really know much about this, so I wanted Ryuushi-san to come with me.”
“Ehh~” Um? Her reaction doesn"t seem good. “Ryuushi-san just kinda got busier!”
“...Uh, you don"t like Erio?”
Her lips were even pouting up. Strictly speaking from the spirit of "straightforwardness," I welcome this; but the other parts made it confusing. This feeling is like bubbles quietly rising from the bottom of the pot.
“I don"t hate her or anything, and I don"t know her enough to hate her.”
Ryuushi-san picked up the black tea and used it as a tool of escape. Sip, sip~ she sucked at the remaining drink, her gaze floating at the clock above the blackboard. I looked over as well, only to see the hand of the clock at a position that would finish this bento known as "lunchtime" in a few minutes.
“Still, you seem angry.” Even though I don"t think there"s anything good in it, I still tried to delve into this topic.
“I told ya I"m not mad! It would take a lot to anger the holy Ryuushi-san, it"d worth a prize! Like whenever my mom yelled at me to "clean my room," I didn"t talk back like I was in the rebellious phase! Geez~”
And the rage at that time was actually growing underneath, and finally erupted now… Could the reason of my instinct be the sensitivity that comes with youth?
“Well, if I hafta admit, I am directing this senseless anger on Niwa-kun, mm.”
“Eh, me?” And she senselessly explained to me. This isn"t something that could be excused with an advanced warning!
“I found that Niwa-kun lacks delicacy, geez; you are such a non-delicate (デリカリー)!”[1]
“What does it have to do with delicacy… Uh, which part was? And what was that word combined of?”
“I just thought it sounded good; it"s kinda like non-calorie.”
After answering only the second question, Ryuushi-san shot me a dissatisfied look.
“So, am I to give up on Ryuushi-san after school?”
“Unfortunately, you have lost your chance. Also, didn"t I say ta call me Ryuuko? It"s Ryuuko! Ryuuko!” Underneath the desk, Ryuushi-san"s bare foot performed three pendulum movement, justly punishing my ankle for answering the comprehension question wrong. It didn"t look much, but it hurt so bad!
“Yeah? Then I yield.”
I declared so, and looked away. Moving my head slowly, I peered over Ryuushi-san"s head at the cla.s.sroom behind. This behavior was without intent, only meant to disperse the atmosphere.
Yet, why did I put Erio as the impetus of my actions? Have I lost touch with the Youth-points?
“Listen~ Niwa-kun.” As if to block my line of sight, Ryuushi turned her head and spoke.
“Hm?”
“Don"t tell me you"re looking for Maekawa-san.”
“Wha?” Hearing the unexpecting name, I couldn"t help but overreact.
“Hm?” Even Maekawa-san, who sat from a bit away, turned when she heard her name. It would appear she was about bite down on a bread, with her mouth still ajar.
“Not a chance.” I denied honestly.
Asking Maekawa-san? Hm… Imagination, go. If she advices, "how about giving her a warabimochi[2] costume?" how would I react? Rather, the Ryuushi-san who seemed discontent with me bothered me more.
“Shoot!”
Ryuushi-san suddenly hopped up from her chair. She took the supposedly empty drink up above her head, and made a penalty shot. The package drew a parabola, graciously landing into the garbage can in the corner.
People in cla.s.s went from looking at the shot to looking confusedly at Ryuushi-san. She paid no mind to the gazes, only nodding at the result, mumbling "nice, nice." Eveyone"s focus instantly disappeared.
As if waiting for this moment, the bell that signifies the complete devour of lunch time rechoed through the school.
It also sounded like the buzzer that ends a game.
“That was cool, Ryuushi-san!”
“It was no biggie~” She humbly replied my solo-support with a wave: “Also, you got the player"s name wrong, mister! ...Ah~… I guess I might actually end up hating Touwa-san!”
For realsies~ Ryuushi-san mumbled to herself while picking up her lunch box and putting the borrowed seat back to where it was. Putting laziness and habit aside, spending time with Ryuushi-san during lunch is one of my biggest enjoyment in my daily life. I honestly think that I am actually a very lucky guy!
Just as I was about to thank her for her time with me that cancels out the daily decrease in Youth-points, which kept the total at a positive —
“Oh, Niwa-kun.” Ryuushi-san turned and spoke with a smile as she parted.
“Mm? What"s up?”
“Non-delicate.” Ryuushi-san"s crisp, ba.s.sy voice blew like an Oboe into my head.
Umm? Questions still spun in my head when the crowd swallowed Ryuushi-san"s back, its traces gone.
So began cleaning time. People who were chatting away up until now moved listlessly. Under the urging of the person behind, I also began moving the tables and chairs forward, as well as letting my mind run.
“Hm~mm...”
I kept thinking that it was me who upset Ryuushi-san; I don"t think this is just me thinking too much!
Youth-points were declining. Are you ok, me? Anxiety and instability are riling up my inside! In a bit, or maybe now, I should find Ryuushi-san and apologize her for no reason.
All right! I stood up from my seat, a plastic bag full of lunch trash dangling from my hand.
Besides, did she really like how the word sounds?
“Non-delicate.”
I spoke to confirm it. The sound “kah” does indeed feel nice on the tongue, I thought.
After school"s out on that day.
I was convinced of buying Warabi-mochi. Not the costume, but the actual food.
As for the reason, it was because Maekawa-san, who had yet to transform into dango girl, came to talk to me at the shoe locker:
“Yo~ Makoto-san. What were you talking about during lunch.”
“Eh? It"s nothing really.”
“Just talk to Maekawa-emon whenever you"re troubled!”
“Ehh~ ...Fine. Maekawa-emon, I need your help~!”
“What"s the matter, Makoto-san? Did the Chupacabra (♀) suck your blood again?”
“I can"t decide on what to get for Erio-chan~”
“Hahahah, you silly boy. Alright~ When you"re troubled, your best friend Maekawa-emon will always come to help~ Follow me!”[3]
To describe using hyperbole, we had a conversation like that.
Simply put, I was brought by Maekawa-san to that Wagashi pastry, Mars Globe, where she promptly exerted the spirit of a merchant and sold me warabi-mochi. That was it. And just like that, as I purchased this thing, the last bill in my wallet was sucked into the cash register. Clink, clank. “Thank you for yer business!”
Maekawa-san, who just swapped with a different worker, hummed while dealing with her customer.
I received the warabi-mochi package with the phrase "Happy birthday, Erio!" written in blue marker on it. The words were written by Maekawa-san herself, and in an irritatingly messy cursive script.
“No~ problem. My deduction concludes that the chance of Erio bursting into tear after receiving this is higher than seventy percent.”
“For reasons other than the powder getting into her eyes?”
“Relax, relax!” The dango girl answered unhurriedly, and shut the cash register. After getting used to her outfit the second time, I actually thought it was disturbing. I even started having images… Maybe, when there isn"t anyone around, the dango and the sakura-mochi actually move around. Like, the head and limbs that were supposed to be hiding pop out, and they greet their neighbors with a "hi~" or something like that. Since there was already stories with sentient toys that move around, then it shouldn"t be too farfetched to have pastries becoming alive. "Thrown away if not bought, or eaten after being purchased: which one is more painful?” And then, the Youkan will run to discuss this with the strawberry daif.u.ku. Yet, they will not find the answer. Because it doesn"t matter if they were thrown away or purchased, once someone leaves, he never comes back. It doesn"t matter if everyone groups up, or faces the danger alone, they have to fight with an ever-present terror. Every time when the eyes of men look away, the same scenery replays over and over in the display boxes…
From the same angle, snacks like dorayaki or monako often run into situations where they"re purchases with another brother, so perhaps when it comes to delaying the eventual solitude, they"re actually pretty happy. But then for the last dorayaki who had to see his brothers disappear one by one, it must be a despair indescribable with words.
If they can move around with their arms and legs, why don"t they run? Even though I thought so, but maybe it isn"t allowed? I mindlessly thought.
They couldn"t show their living side, probably because of some laws of the G.o.ds. Ent.i.ties not accepted as lives in the human world are not allowed to arrogantly break into the territory of men.
The world is born in the cage of the G.o.ds.
Even the aliens are allowed only to reach their hands in, behind the bars that confined the universe.
Thus, I believe that aliens do not exist anywhere on Earth. Isn"t that right?
Even though I imagined all sorts of things, my mind still does not have the courage to play the scene of a self-aware dorayaki being shoved into a human mouth and devoured.
“What"s the matter, transfer student? staring holes at the snacks? Just don"t drool!”
Maekawa-san"s waving hand and black bottle appeared in front of my eyes. Since who-knows-when, she circled from the inside of the store to where I was. As if mocking my delusion, the limbs growing out from the dango shook along with their trunk.
She even started to drink her cola. Though I wanted to push that round body, I predicted that if I did carry the act out, Maekawa-san will definitely fall onto the ground with a roll and retract her arms. The overly slender limbs of Maekawa-san are capable of playing out a one-time concert of "snap."
“Ah!”
Standing in front of the Wagashi shop, I once again witnessed the objects that soared in the sky above the houses.
The speed was fast. It"s not a glider. More like a mini-rocket.
As if disappearing into the corner of a screen, the object flew outside of the shop"s gla.s.s screen and faded.
“You saw that?”
“Mm? Oh, that? It"s a rocket.”
She unveiled the object"s ident.i.ty apathetically. But Maekawa-san never did elaborate on the previous explanation, and after she put down the cola bottle (by the way, the bottle somehow had the P*cari label), she carried a dustpan and a broom outside; I followed her back — no, what do I call this? Does it make sense to say the back of a dango? How do I convey that? As a mountain of question marks piled, I chased her out the store.
Faced with the singeing stares of the pa.s.sersby, Maekawa-san — who directly wore the dango costume outside — wasn"t even afraid, but rather completely indifferent to anything but to effectively sweeping with her lanky arms. Am I to follow her courage?
I put the warabi-mochi in the basket, preparing to ride home while chasing Maekawa-san with my gaze.
“Rocket.” Maekawa-san, who picked up a plastic bottle, spoke.
“Huh?”
“The thing from earlier, you probably can"t see from your house, huh. Well, not like I know where you live.”
She dusted on while maintaining a hunched pose, and suddenly crouched down "woo…" I thought something happened and sprinted to her side, "since my head was down all this time, the blood gathered there." Maekawa-san explained the symptoms.
“……”
Maekawa-san is seriously unfit for the 3D life! Is vertical her nemesis?
“I haven"t had enough sleep recently, so I feel tired.”
“Is that right. But we"re still really far away from the final exam.”
“No, it"s just that my night job has been more taxing than I thought.”
“…...”
Should I feel normal for myself, who just did a completely gentlemanly imagination? Or should I be ashamed?
“Oh, there it goes.”
The "rocket" that climbed in the air up until now lost it"s thrust and fell from the sky. A tiny flower made of parachute expanded from the tip of the rocket, ensuring the body fall slowly. My eyes followed the rocket"s path home, using it as an escape for the reverie:
“Of course it"d fall. It isn"t a rocket for s.p.a.ce, after all.”
Wobbling but mostly recovered, Maekawa-san held herself with the broom and looked up into the sky:
“That"s a bottle rocket. If it was using gun powder, it would have been consider a firework in j.a.pan — and you need a license for that. Normal folks would just have to put up with using water-powered rockets.”
“Oh~” Though I"ve heard of the name, this was the first I"ve seen it.
“There"s a ridiculously big agriculture school that went under around here, so someone decided to use the school"s field as testing ground. A guy with strange ear rings was always there; he"s probably someone who just got laid off.”
“Really now~” What a horrible prediction. “You seem to be the expert. Someone you know?”
“Well, I wouldn"t say I know him… Actually, why would that matter? Ahahah!” Appearing to not even want to bother with concealing, Maekawa-san just ended the topic. Now I"m curious. However, most of my questions were answered, so all is well:
“You work a lot, Maekawa-san. Are you saving up for something?”
“Mm? Of course.”
“New costumes?” A ruler mascot or something like that would suit her, and it"s practical.
“Those too, but what I want now is a moped and a license.”
“Oh~”
“After I get both of those, I can drive you around.”
“Uh, you can"t ride double on a light motorcycle...”
“Ahahah! If it"s just a simple package, I think you can put it in the back!”
“...I"ll think about it.”
I let loose of the brake and turned the bike toward home. In contrast to the noon"s clarity, the sky was now painted in grey: the type that would probably rain if any more cloud gather. It"s going to pour right as I get home, huh? I predicted hopefully, attempting to forecast.
“Oh yeah. Since you"re celebrating her birthday, could you tell Touwa I say "happy birthday?"”
“OK~ Maekawa-san, you"re actually a good person!”
“Hehe, people actually call me "the surprisingly-good-at-dealing-with-people Maekawa!"”
“Oh yeah? Must be difficult to manage all of those nicknames.”
“Right? Also, my first nickname when I got into highschool was "the slightly-long domino Maekawa-san." The first week of basket ball club was so nostalgic! I was actually the star rookie in the beginning, and on the second day I became "the new guy", and on the last day of tryout I became the most useless noob! For real, I was being treated as a gorilla who can pa.s.s a ball decently!”
“...Hahah, that is so you!”
Even though this was a setback story that turned hopefulness to hopelessness, perhaps due of Maekawa-san cheerful tone, even I was influenced into smiling through the entire thing.
Yet for some reason, my conversation with Maekawa-san seemed all too normal. Is it because I don"t care for Youth-points? Did I become weird after attempting to fly with a bike?
“Warabi-mochi~” I went on home, waving goodbye to the Maekawa-san who was singing while sweeping.
I looked back after a bit of distance, only to see the white dango crouching in front of the store, not returning the glance.
“Kyahh~! Mako!” I said to stop calling me that.
“Welcome home.”
Two pairs of twin-tails welcomed me as soon as I enter the entrance of the Touwa residence.
One of them even bear-hugged me. Her arms circled around my neck; this was the homemade merry go-around for idiotic couples! Spin… spin… heheh… ohoho… “Not again!” Why do I only get hugged by my aunt? Well, that, of course, is because I have no girlfriend! Uh, does that mean it"s my fault? Meme-san spun with my neck as her support; it was heavy and painful. Every time when the whip made of hair hits me, my Youth-points fall with a torturous patter. Was this also my fault? If so, can I also solve it as I see fit?
The fact that I"ve actually gotten partially used to being hugged by a forty-year old also saddens me.
“Do you want dinner? A bath? Or Eh-ri-o?” Don"t drag your daughter into this! Are you some village chief who believes in sending living sacrifices to the cave on the mountain?
“Please let go of me.” I pushed up with my chin.
“Oh my~ How cruel~”
Perhaps ecstatic after playing house as a new wed, Meme-san returned to the side of Erio with a joyous expression that contradicted her speech.
Ah, that"s the appearance when Happiness-point is rising! How obvious — I don"t even want to look at it. Erio"s eyes darted between the ceiling and the floor; compared to her intentionally-idiotic mother, she appeared to be more self-conscious.
Every time her eyes moved, the hair tied to both sides will trace out an incomplete pendulum. Thinking carefully now, this was the first time I"ve seen Erio with her hair tidied; how do I put this: with her face slightly lowered, and an abashed expression, that twin-tail hairstyle in many ways disallowed me to look away.
The problem was with the other person.
“The hair… Uh… Um...” I tried to control myself from the rude behavior that is touching other people"s head.
“Heheh, is it ok?”
“No, are you ok…?”
“I tried to duplicate Erio"s elementary school hair today!”
“……...”
Alright, so what were the thoughts going through my mind at this moment?
One: if it was Maekawa-san, she would definitely wear that monster"s costume![4]
Two: doesn"t it fit Ryuushi-san as well? My imagination seemed to have derailed quite a bit.
Three: why is Meme-san also wearing the same hairstyle as Erio?
As I tried in the most tactful way to ask for the answer to the third question, Meme-san responded with a smile possessing of cuteness and wrinkles (skip), along with a spin, "swoosh~!" Look, I"ve been telling you all this time~
“I thought sometimes we should return to innocence, so what better time than now?”
What do you mean sometimes?
“...I am doubting my usual image of you being a grown-up.”
Actually, having the same appearance on both inside and outside is often considered an amazing feat.
But is there any other besides me who"s witnessed a forty year old twin-tail? After all, there isn"t a demand for it.
“I"ve also ran around like this before; the times when you"d run around with snacks you bought from the grocery stores… It"s true~”
Meme-san"s focus faded into the wall to the left. But kids nowadays don"t have chances to visit those grocery stores!
“Seriously, it happened!” You don"t need to say that sentence with such a solemn tone either, right?
“M-...mom"s past?”
Erio asked vaguely, sheepishly joining the conversation. “Mm~ mm.” Meme-san beamed a benevolently motherly smile at her daughter — an otherwise normal behavior saved for the hair. The two twin-tails faced each others.
“Unimaginable?”
“Mm.”
“If Erio go look into the mirror, things might become clearer!”
Meme-san grabbed her shoulders and moved closer to her face as if about to kiss.
“Awoo… Uwah!” Erio used a palindrome to express her shock and bewilderment.
“Listen, Erio. From now on, you have to live a life looking into the mirror everyday. That way, more and more people will like you.”
Meme-san b.u.mped foreheads, a mischievous smile on her face. Perhaps due to awkwardness, Erio"s eyes occasionally darted to me; while focusing on the surrounding, her cheeks were imbrued sanguine.
The futon that served as estrangement disappeared, and a family was born in the Touwa household. If Meme-san"s hair was the usual, it would have been a moving scene, but why did she have to always be the deviant?
As for whether it"s intentional or not, there hasn"t been a consensus.
“The gap-moe level of what I just said had over seventy percent chance of making Mako-kun fall in love with me again.”
Oh~hohohoh~ Meme-san purposely revealed an antagonist smug to test my reaction. “I"ve never loved you, and that wasn"t much of a gap.” You always show the side of you that"s too real.
Meme-san pouted in discontent, but immediately regained her smile, and pulled her hands away from Erio"s shoulders:
“Alright, time to get dinner ready. Sigh~ Can Mako-chan become a professional househusband faster?”
“Sorry, but I like Meme-san"s food.”
“Eh? Does that mean you want for me to make Miso soup for you every morning?”[5]
“You"re jumping to conclusion. Also, you"re going too far in the no-traffic zone.”
“So we gotta go slow, right? Rather than hasty marriages, Mako is one of those who value the process! I have to write this down.”
“Could you also do something about your enthusiasm while you"re at it?”
Woolalah~ Meme-san, who ignored my response, skipped around in an age-misfitting dance and proceeded to the kitchen. The twin-tails on her head precisely followed her casual movement; for some reason, this scenery created a sense of forlornness.
“…...”
The phone rang. I reflexively picked up the extension sitting in the Touwa house entrance.
“h.e.l.lo.” I hesitated: “Touwa residence.”
“Oh? Makoto? It"s been a while~ Remember your mom"s voice?”
“Uh~ Now I do.” Not to the point of "I miss it~" though.
“What about the smell?”
“I forgot what my favourite dish was, hahah!”
It"s my mom. I forgot where she was, since I"ve never asked.
“I"m worried about my adorable son, so I called. How are you?” From the speaker came the sound of a rhythmic knock; should be mom knocking on the floor with her finger: It"s her old habit.
“Hm, I"m alright. You?”
“We"re great~ wanna hear it for yourself?”
“No, not hearing from you at all was evident enough.” If I said yes, she would have just sung anyway. Mom"s hobby is to sing loudly while walking around the train station — that"s just how she is.
“What about eating? Are you eating right? You"re at that age now, so you need to grow more!”
“I am, especially dinner.” Because I have an aunt eating with me who would grumble if I don"t finish.
“What about school? You"re not part of the Student Sandbag Council, right?”
“There isn"t any real bullying here, so it"s a good school. Also~ Isn"t this dad"s old school?”
“So, isn"t about time for a girlfriend?”
“You seemed to have forgotten about the j.a.panese culture, mom!”
And then I received simple queries regarding life for the next minute or so. Basically good, I responded so.
“Alright, I"m letting dad on.”
Mom"s voice faded; replacing it was an obscure breathing and a deep voice sitting down next to my ear.
“Hey, it"s your dad… Oi! Is that a good open?”
Good! Good! Mom"s encouragement mixed with the background.
“Um… Hm, you getting used to the life there?”
“Uh, yeah. Hm, I guess.”
How do I put this: whenever I talk with dad, we"re always so uptight.
“Did my sister cause you any trouble?”
“N—ope. Absolutely none.” Whoaho, I just straight-up spat some irresponsible lines.
Or rather, that"s the first time I"ve heard anyone saying that to a lodger!
“Ah! Mako-kun!”
Aunt Skippy came back in no time. Is there maybe a way to use perspective to keep her forever away from me? Sadly, my wish reached no one, and Meme-san stood next to me.
“Who called?”
“My parents.”
“Ah! Good timing, kyah! Let me talk to my dearest brother, quick!”
“Why is it that I"d rather smash the telephone than let you speak?”
“My plan this year is to play the gap-moe sister!”
“…...” I could only hand the speaker to her wordlessly, and reach back to my warabi-mochi.
“h.e.l.lo-in, Coca-ine… Ah, don"t hang up! You"re just like Mako-kun, hmph! You used to only talk with your girlfriend for forever, I"ve always wanted to beat the c.r.a.p out of you...”
Meme-san entered the gossiping-women mode; I decided to leave her alone.
My eyes met the neglected Erio. She stood at the same place, her lips opened, and her mouth about to speak. Yet she stayed quiet, as if observing me.
“Is there something on your mind?”
“May I?”
“Yes.”
“Did you propose to mom?”
“h.e.l.l no.”
“D-Dad?”
“Please do not think that we"ve separate since your birth, and this is our tear-jerking reunium, and call me that. Of course not!”
On a more fundamental level, people should not marry my aunt. Of course, there isn"t anything regrettable this fact. Absolutely none.
Sigh, with your cousin though it"s fine. But so what?
“Cousin.”
The cousin who still refuses to use my name spoke without intonation. Between us, there should have been an impressionable introduction. However, if Erio expressionlessly call me “Mako-kun” one day, I might actually collapse. The pointer of Youth-points will fall instantly to Erio because of this tiny fuse.
“Mm, what is it? Lets not talk that stuff anymore.”
“I have something I must discuss with you. Come.”
“Discuss? Sure, I got something for you too. Lets go!”
Disregarding whether she"ll like it or not, I have to give her the warabi-mochi. It came from my wallet, after all.
“Mm.”
Though deadpan, she still nodded satisfactorily and proceeded into the hall. Discussing with me… hm~ I"m fine if it isn"t anything serious — like about her memory. Maybe she cares a lot about it, even though she remembers nothing. After all, it isn"t something easily found.
“You remember… So what about … You jerk…… Also, I have a question for you: Nii-san, you used to scare...”
Meme-san was still talking. Sigh, just leave her!
Behind the entrance"s frost gla.s.s, I heard the sign and sound of something falling. It seems that even arbitrary forecast is sometimes accurate. My sinking heart somehow rose, and my steps to the second floor faster. No matter what she wants to talk about, all I have to do is to reply with a cheerful att.i.tude — just mimic Meme-san when it comes to this.
I follow Erio"s steps onto the stairs. Did she just go into her room? Recently I began to realize that I could no longer go into the room of my cousin Erio, who took off the futon and became normal, along with a face like that.
Stepping into the second floor, I skipped my room, directly to Erio"s. In the room filled with fragments of s.p.a.ce, the owner arduously began her work of putting on the futon.
“Hold it!”
Erio looked back after adjusting the rope to the perfect tightness, as if asking, “what is it?”
“What kind of topic would need you putting on the futon? Speak to me.”
“I want to speaking with you calmly.”
“As for staying calm, please get used to the human way.”
I took away the rolled-up futon and loosen the rope. “Ah~ ah~” Erio emitted a sound between protest and lamentation, only able to watch as the event unfold. I had no need to pity her. Probably.
Though that may be so, after seeing a restless, trembling Erio glaring at me in normal clothes because I took her usual outfit, I felt a bizarre drive of "I must gratify her." And thus, I decided to began the ceremony of handing her the wagashi I held in my arm:
“Alright, on a day that"s kinda like your birthday, here something for you that"s kinda like your present.”
I put the packaged warabi-mochi on Erio"s tiny hands. She stopped for a second; though she gawked shockingly, she still flipped the package around, or stared at the elegantly-written "happy birthday," as of trying to get a grip on the situation. Also, she seemed to be searching for the proper emotion for such an occasion.
As the warabi-mochi completes its three-and-a-half circle, Erio looked up:
“Thank you.”
“Hn~ Uh, well, it"s to celebrate.”
“I"m happy.”
“That"s good.”
“I like.”
As the warabimochi completes its three-and-a-half circle, Erio looked up: "Thank you."
Hearing her consecutive thanks in her faint reading voice, I didn"t know know where I should kept them. Moreover, hearing the word "like" without the object in that sentence gave me a ringing in my skull. Normally, would people say that without opening the gift? I almost opened my mouth to correct her, but it"s probably because she didn"t know what was inside that I get to hear her say "like." I guess all ends well, right? I couldn"t help but agree strongly.
However, Erio naturally did not burst into tears. It seems like in this town, you just can"t trust seventy percent.
“So, what did you want to talk about?”
I peeked at the dusty telescope at the corner of the room, urging Erio to begin. She twitched and straightened her back — rather, it was the reaction when the body is in shock — putting out a very elegant pose:
“Um, before I tell M-mom, I wanted to talk about it with the c-cousin.”
Erio"s pauses seemed to be placed incorrectly, like she"s forgotten about how to speak normally.
She moved her hands forward and clutched tightly. Under the thin hands that hid few veins, and in the palms that nails carved lightly into, what kind of determination was hidden? I stared, at the wrinkles that formed between her pushing brows, the irises that kept escaping to the sides of her eyes; the lips that shut tightly, and the rising cheeks that seemed to hold back the impulse to puke… Wait, hold up, hold up. Is this really voluntary? This expression looked like she isn"t exactly willing!
As I predicted, after a few minutes, Erio still couldn"t expand the conversation by speaking, only to reveal a suffocating look. The price of not breathing is choking and coughing at the interval of once a minute. When that happens, the twin-tails" tips dance like twins in the air.
“...Look, I can"t understand if you don"t speak.”
Don"t expect some psychic stuff! My command list doesn"t include "Psych!"
As if saying, "yes, I know," Erio nodded hard, finally swinging her clasped fists, and using the forward momentum to let her throat go:
“I need to work!”
“Huh?” Fortunately she didn"t say "you." Let me relax for a sec… I mean!
“I want to… go back… to society? Possibly… Maybe… I… think…?”
Like a leaf floating in the river, this a.s.sertion"s ending and resolve slid away.
...Fine, only because she had guts. Since it"s the first time, I"ll be more lenient. Erio"s Return-to-society points, +3.
Following the map crafted by none other than Meme-san herself, we proceeded downtown. At the end of where the eyes could see, there stood a hair salon most conspicuous with its white wall untouched by the wind, and the bed sheet drying on the second floor balcony.
Outside of the salon were pots of flower and cat decorations; the entrance might have posters for eyelash curling and hair products, but nothing about hiring.
The wind today seemed to have been showered by rain before coming here, its texture heavy. Once it touched the skin, it left the moisture and went with no avail to the heat.
“Alright, let"s go!” I reached to the back of Erio"s knees, lifting the girl who was still stuffed in the basket. Once the futon is off, I become overly conscious to the softness of her skin. During the process, I could seldom look at Erio"s face.
I put Erio"s onto the ground, and stepped away from her. Why am I taking care of her so much? Even though my many doubts since the age of futon was unbroken to this day, as long as she opens her lips and say, "thank you, cousin," the me of recent begins to accept things with a "whatever, it"s fine."
Today she wore a white shirt and skirt as well. Though shoes wrapped around her feet today, she was still barefooted. According to Meme-san, Erio seemed to have disliked socks since childhood.
I couldn"t stand staring at Erio for some reason, and so I scratched the back of my head — I could even hear rustling of notebook paper in my palm. As a side note, Meme-san"s map this time had some rather plain content such as "↑ 2 points" and "↓ 3 points." Or put it this way: the directions became obvious fighting game commands such as "A (Medium kick)" or "Y (Light punch)". My thumbs" skin might peel off if I follow her guide.
Before I strode forward, Erio remained fixed on the spot. I pushed the back of Eri-chan, who, thanks to her long time as a shut-in, has become overly pa.s.sive. The situation evolved into one where we"re finally in the salon.
I looked up to the partially covered, but overall categorizable as clear, sky to see if there were rockets flying.
Though I"m unsure how many points it would require for her to succeed, Erio"s "Return to society movement" has began.
Today was Sat.u.r.day, June 12th — five days after her declaration.
The morning after Erio"s subst.i.tute birthday took place, after I reported to Meme-san, "Work? Erio? Mm~ I don"t see what could go wrong~" She gave a casual answer while mixing the Natto. The possibility of her still being half-awake was there. “Then~ It might be better to make her hair better~ Let me introduce her to my favourite stylist~” Meme-san mumbled vaguely while drawing the map for us. Hm, thinking back now, she was definitely not awake.
Stepping into the salon, we felt the welcome of only a breeze — from the fan set on weak sitting at the entrance.
“Welcome~ We do any cuts!”
The one who welcomed us was a beautiful woman with a dangerous business-like att.i.tude.
Wearing a blue shirt, her skin was as pale as the autumn cloud itself. This lady, whose entire outfit seemed to mimic the clear sky, looked to be about twenty or so. The long hair that grew past her waist appears to be saying, "it"s hard for even a hairdresser to cut her own hair." Is she the owner?
“All right, someone"s here. Go inside.” She directed the little girl playing a child piano on the sofa. She"s probably her daughter. “Hm~” the girl replied ambivalently, at the same time picking up the piano and trotted her way into the inner door. She glanced at us halfway, but sped away when our eyes met. For some reason, I felt guilty. The woman who appears to be the owner turned the seat in front of the mirror toward us, welcoming us with an innocent smile that raised the mysteriousness of her age:
“Please sit here~ Young couples. Are you both getting a haircut?”
“No, just her please.” I put my hand on Erio"s head, entrusting the job of hair treatment to the owner. If I leave her alone, Erio might never make the first step; therefore, I nudged her lightly from the back.
If a head-start was given, she could at least walk up to someone else — this was the Erio now. Is it ok to have the first step to be the right? Or the left? She might make conscious effort on those parts in order to practice. Doing everything, whether big or small, with full attention must be really painful! It would be really hard to fall asleep if you have to pay attention to how you breath after getting into a bed!
“Come, sweetie.” Once the owner beckoned, Erio began her run and jumped into the seat. Then, her fixed expression remain lowered to her thighs, her face hidden. The owner was a bit surprised to see her behavior, but the smile lingered on her face: “Mm, what an interesting girl.”
The owner adjust the seat"s direction toward the mirror: “At this time and day, just being a pretty girl is not enough: I love this kind of suspicious characteristics!”
Heeheehee~ Like a bully who"s locked on on her target, the owner snickered with a grin all while preparing the barber cape. “But, I need your face up here!” Hearing the order, Erio quiveringly stiffened her back.
From the mirror, she met my stare… Mm~ Autonomity is important too. She herself probably wanted to get a haircut as well. In any case, I mouthed, “you can do it!" to encourage her, and walked toward the sofa where the little girl sat. Then, I looked around the salon.
In the middle of the table ahead was a gla.s.s plate filled with candies. Probably for bored kids. Around the plate scattered women magazine and manga. Neither were my forte, so I didn"t reach for them. It"s just that I"ve begin to think that, maybe I should start reading manga to catch up with friends of the same gender? Sigh, maybe not now.
Cable broadcast played in the store; the fan spun weakly. Also, modern art painting with kindness instead of artsiness hung from the wall — probably the school project of the kid from earlier. Obviously it was the pride of her mom, especially since it was hung with a frame. That"s much better than idiot parents, anyhow.
“What kind of hair would you like?”
The owner wet Erio"s hair with a water spray, asking her customer"s desire while combing the strands. Asking Erio for specific opinions, it"s just… I grimaced on the side. The heat from thinking dyed her ears crimson; after holding back her impulse to hide her face, her final request was: “S… Something good!” At least it was an answer better than something like "not too bad" or "okay."
“Meaning I can do whatever I want?” Erio nodded. “A chance for me to show off, huh? But you"re fine: just a little failure wouldn"t ruin your cuteness.” As the owner finished, she made the motion of shaving her entire head. The s.p.a.ce hamster shook her head frantically, probably taking the joke seriously.
“Oh my~ You are so cute!”
The owner leisurely enjoyed her customer"s fearful reaction; that devilish grin really suited her.
From the mirror, I seemed to have witnessed her breezy proficiency and experience.
The owner"s fingers circled around the scissors" round handle, as if pityingly feeling the hair behind Erio"s head.
“What"s your name?”
“Erio… Touwa.”
“Touwa? Isn"t that Jojo-san"s (女女) last name?”
“Jo-… Jojo… M-my mom.”
“Hoh~ You"re Jojo-san"s daughter? You"re cute just like your mom!”
What a skillful owner~! I"m impressed. Was the reason why her words didn"t sound sneering her personality? Once again, I experienced the accessibility that comes with the so-called beauty.
Accompanies with a light cutting sound, the scissors began fixing Erio"s hair. The hip hop music from yesterday also ended pa.s.sionately with a trumpet; the momentary silence lowered the bar for words.
“Your hair is really long.” I tried giving the owner an unoffensive thought.
“"Cuz it"s really convenient for strangling, right?”
She proudly introduced me a chilling usage. Perhaps also thinking that it was funny, she added a laughter "ahaha!" afterward. The way she laughs was not different from the way Meme-san does when she mentions the past.
“Um… Name...” Since the futon was taken off, she lost her furry shield; the fact that Erio was awkward with words was exposed. I think she should give up on the service industry.
“Hm, sorry, I didn"t hear you.”
“Name… What"s yours…?” Oh, she"s really trying. Yet, every time she opens her mouth, the returning path to society becomes darker.
“Oh, me? I"m Ooi Tooe. My friends always call me Toeic!” The twenty-some year old smilingly introduced herself with an abnormally fitting teenager tone. The owner — Ooi-san briskly cut Erio"s hair. Long hair that grew freely fell like Nagashi-soumen that were not picked up, drawing out on the floor extraterrestrial shapes.[6]
Erio lowered her head to avoid the mirror, rendering her inner thought completely unreadable.
“...Mm?”
The door inside cracked open; the little girl from earlier peeked inside the salon. Her eyes were mostly on her mother"s side face, unreservedly emitting rays of hope that her mother would accompany her. But her mother was absorbed with Erio"s hair with no sign of noticing.
Instead, the child traded look with me. “Hmn~” Though she immediately went back, the same sound as before came. After a bit, I could hear from the inside piano keys orchestrating a weak and unskilled melody. Was that some sort of taunt for someone? Maybe also a way to get attention.
“What"s the name of your boyfriend there?” Ooi-san abruptly indicated the third person"s existence.
Erio stuffed her face into the cape covered in hair, attempting to hide her face. “Ugee!” Perhaps some hair got into her eyes, she made a strange screech. “Eh? What"s the matter, Ecchan?”
The cause of the chaos, Ooi-san, expressed her confusion.
Yet this was the only time I understood Erio"s perplexity.
Boyfriend? There? I hoped she would properly pinpoint the location.
In short, my reaction was to check the surrounding of the sofa where customers would wait. My eyes could see objects, but no subjects. Even the inconceivable person in the mirror"s world… Nothing. I"m fairly certain that so far in this salon, there are only three people — me, Erio and Ooi-san — breathing out carbon dioxide. As for Ooi-san"s daughter, I could not open my mouth and ask for her name. If I do that, the kid might end up sobbing, "wahh~!"
Looks like if I were to give up on wondering around the destination, I seem to have to admit: boyfriend = me. The conclusion waited open mouth.
…Uh, hm? What was I feeling? Uh, I think… I think we shouldn"t delve in too deeply.
“No, I"m her cousin, the kind that"s not a boyfriend.” My speaking speed was especially fast probably because of the increasing pulse behind my ear and on my wrist that accelerated the rest of my body.
“Cousin… Ohh!” Ooi-san clapped her hands without letting go of the scissors: “So you"re that Makoto-kun?”
“Eh...Ah, Meme… My aunt told you?”
“Yep… So, you"re the infamous Makoto-kun who looks at your favourite aunt with slightly evil eyes?”
Has the gossip of that person acc.u.mulated so much that her lies have became the truth?
About two weeks ago, I was about to be too friendly with her name, and ended up correcting myself and accidentally calling her "granny." Was she still holding a grudge against me for that?[7]
In any case, I couldn"t stay anyway. My mood now was as if I was stuffed with all kind of rocks:
“I"m going out for a bit, please call if you need me.”
“Ah, there he goes.”
Ooi-san"s tone was like after observing a raucous cicada that came into your room and left from the other window: she neither teased me with words, nor made me stay.
As I looked up, I saw Erio, who became a feather decoration with her eyebrows and other parts were covered in hair, sending me a distress signal. I, however, still mouthed her a "you can do it!" and fled the scene. I"ll pretend her journey of returning to society has already begun with a "1UP mushroom."[8]
To digest time and shame, I wondered outside the salon. At that moment, I noticed the colourful pictures stuck on the window that I glanced at earlier. There wasn"t much around here that interested me, anyway.
A blonde model in s.e.xy pose showing off her gorgeous outfit, hair and makeup went down the same path as the authors of school textbooks. In other words, she"s been vandalized. Long hair grew from the model"s nose, and continued into her mouth through the jaw.
Which grade schooler did this? Also, why do people think adding hair on faces is funny? I kind of pondered for a while. The other advertis.e.m.e.nt seemed to be irrelevant with a hair salon. The content wasn"t particularly rich, but there were strange words written beneath the t.i.tle. Who knows if it was an address or a cipher.
But what the h.e.l.l was it? Was it like a presentation on something such as "we sold medicine that could give your skin and hair as smooth as your age ÷ 2"? Even though I couldn"t read anything. If it were Meme-san, she"d probably pounce the paper like a starved orca.
It"s just that the hand-written heading "for the you who isn"t ready to grow up" seemed to plan on residing in my left eye. Of course, the landlord eyeball really wanted to stare at the newcomer as a way of welcoming, threatening him that "this is borrowed; you will pay for the monthly rent on time, right?" It worked: tears with too much salt rolled from the corner of the eye into the mouth at precisely thirty seven degree Celsius.
Whatever, uh… Just kidding! Is that enough? What a drag! Perhaps affected by a novel I read before, I imagined an annoying article full of lies. d.a.m.n you what-his-face (I forgot his name).
“Was it too short?”
“Mm~ I think it"s fine.”
The correct answer was— honestly, I couldn"t even tell if this length was any different from the one before. Why do girls care so much about cutting too much hair?
“In any case, it"s way more refreshed.” I remarked using the less problematic compliment.
“Refreshed~” Erio swung her head to check the hair; the tidied hair followed subtly.
Her behavior was no different than a grade schooler who is about to head into the pool after coming out from the changing room. I almost chuckled.
The cost was covered by Meme-san"s five thousand yen military fund. “All right~ thanks! Next time I"ll cut your hair too, so make sure you come back!” After Ooi-san gave me the change, she beamed at me a close-ranged smile. It made me think that a situation where a man would happily say "keep the change~!" isn"t completely unreasonable! I deduced: her husband must have been mesmerized by the same smile, huh.
Erio and I left the store after bowing in thanks. For reasons unknown, a fulfilling sense of accomplishment after a job well done surged, but I lightly brushed the feeling away. For Erio, the job is only about to start.
“Alright, let"s go find a place for hire.”
“Mm.”
“But, where do you actually want to work?”
“Anything is good.”
“Hm… But just because you think can doesn"t meant you can, right?”
I euphemistically implied that she shouldn"t have any expectation, but Erio seemed to not comprehend.
She shakily climbed onto the bicycle, into the basket… Uh, should we start from fixing habits like this? I must properly teach her the correct knowledge of fitting back into society.
Yet this time, it might become an extreme rehab: just how much changed in the environment of Earth while Erio was out in s.p.a.ce? Let her experience reality!
Because I thought I should respect Erio"s positive spirit, I still stepped onto the bike even though a part of me wavered. I prayed that her spirit would not be crunched by the wheels.
The preparation for the job interview was already completed yesterday.
I brought Erio to the station to take her ID photo — I even wrote her resume! It was under my ceaseless push that Erio was able to call them up herself. Actually, I"m more like a guardian than a boyfriend. Meme-san and I occasionally help Erio, whose goal is to eventually walk under the sun without her "craziness"… c.r.a.p, isn"t this basically a relationship of a couple and their daughter?
“You can still go back to school if you don"t go to work.”
Ever since she spoke her mind about going to work, I recommended many times for her to go back. Yet Erio stubbornly refused: “Since I left, there is no going back. No!” Then why do you leave that uniform hanging in the room?
...Oh well, I am the person who forced her to live as an earthling. Just how much am I allowed to intervene in the choices of Erio"s future? I am still searching for the answer, and I have not found it.
But seriously, am I like Erio"s dad now? I"m actually worrying about whether she should go back to school or get a job. Am I the right person for this kind of thing? Having adaptability is good, but being so easily swayed is also…
The shadow of Youth-points dwindled. A nostalgic brown dyed my school life, like a withered cherry blossom that reminds people of a sweet and sour past… Hold it, I"m not about to have my cheeks wet by nostalgic tears.
“Then… Let"s go to the food joint by the street.”
“Mm.”
I remembered inadvertently seeing the hiring criteria of that place being under the age of forty, when I went there with Ryuushi-san last week. Since there isn"t a minimum restriction, there shouldn"t be a problem. As for whether she fits, that would be up to the interviewer to decide.
Moving forward on the bicycle, I tried to pick routes that wouldn"t overlap with the ones Erio used to go to the sea with.
I only hope that… For the person who has lost what"s most important to her life in this town, this could serve as an atonement.
The result of her leaving out the back door dejectedly after entering the office-like room inside the kitchen went according to my prediction. So of course I"d look away. As to what I should look at after turning ended up bothering me. I guess I"ll have to stare at the tip of my shoes. It was pointless.
Erio briefly explained that the people downright rejected her instead of telling her "we"ll call you if if you"re hired." After that, she hid her face… with the ground. She squatted by the wall and literally stuck her face to the concrete ground. You"re gonna get hurt! I almost opened my mouth to remind her, but I thought, maybe she"s already hurt everywhere? Hence I stayed mute till the end. I also thought that it"d be better if Erio stopped this behavior.
The fact that she just got a hair cut and was dressed neatly created an even bigger gap between her act. I crouched next to Erio and stared at the grey building in front. I suspected that my eyes lost focus, making the white seemed turbid. I rubbed them, and lifted my eyelids up high to see — the building was still grey.
The Erio who was still rubbing her face against the ground suddenly shot her torso upward. Her nose had a scratch, red like in the winter cold.
From that wound I felt an unnamed guilt: like mixing a neatly placed tofu in a plate with a metal spoon.
Perhaps calm again, Erio choppily described the interview.
Their questions seemed to have nothing to do with the job.
"Aren"t you that? The girl who walks around town with a futon."
"Why did you do that?"
"Oh, you don"t go to school? I thought so!"
"Is your hair natural? Eh? You didn"t dye it? Oh~ ...Touwa… Erio? Are you a foreigner? Oh, you"re not."
"You"re pretty well known in town! I thought you"re pretty brave, walking in the streets like that! Hm~ but why are you so scared now?"
"Yeah! I know you want to work here… But, you wouldn"t hire a weirdo, right? Listen: just imagine you"re running a store — you would think people in futon are weird too, right?"
"Well, you are really cute, so that"s not too bad."
"I"m more concerned with whether it"d dangerous working with you, not with if you can do it. Because people would be worried!"
"So, I"m sorry, but, we can"t hire you. I think other places will be just as difficult too, right?"
"Anyway, keep at it! I"ll cheer you on!"
Above are the notes I"ve taken in this one-sided interview.
“Ah~...” So they knew? I even tried picking a place that"s further away from the Touwa household.
Why did you choose us? Or, why do you want to work? They didn"t even ask questions like these. Erio and I even brainstormed together beforehand and came up with realistic responses.
Would it be better to ask Maekawa-san, who shares the unique appearance but with a better sociability, for advices and places to work? In any case, we have to restart.
Erio stumbled on her first step back to society. Or rather, she hugged on the ground the ankles of society, and got kicked away cruelly. Her wish of returning to society might never be granted.
The fact that her starting line wasn"t zero is also tricky. Just how many points in debt awaited her?
Even when I got up and called her name, her knees refused to straighten up. If we go back home like this, she"ll just end up becoming a bamboo-blind girl and cease all activity in her room. I even worried that she might regress back to the state of futon girl. Falling down again in that outfit, Erio will definitely never stand up on her own again.
“…What a pain.” Or maybe I"m overprotective? I began to feel anxious.
Sigh, I just have to change her mood. I gave up on contemplating and spoke:
“Anything you want to buy?”
“Eh?” Erio, who fretfully tried to rub her frown away, lifted her chin.
“Or anywhere you want to go. Since we"re already out, let"s hang out for a bit before going back. It"s almost noon anyway, so we can eat too.” As for the reason, it"s because I smelled Youth-points.
Let"s just pretend it is so.
I pulled on Erio"s right wrist and guide her up. Erio didn"t resist; she evolved from an amphibian to a human.
As I wiped her slightly messy face, she coughed heavily. The stiffness in her facial muscle seemed to be expelled along with the cough, and it became catalyst of her return to neutrality.
“Are you hungry?”
“Mm.”
“Uh, what do you want to eat?”
“Pizza.” So it is going to be that?
“Roger. Then… Let"s go to a diner.”
Erio stuffed her lower body into the basket again. By now, I could only admit that that is Erio"s standard behavior. Besides, if she hugged me from the seat behind, my spine as a guardian might deform. Maybe it"d better if we keep our distance. But from the angle of Youth-poi