Adachi to Shimamura - Volume 99.9 - Chapter 1.1

Chapter 1:

Chito

HOW MANY YEARS HAD PASSED since I first met this strange little creature? I tried to pinpoint how long it had been, but at some point, I’d given up completely on keeping track of the date. Her presence was simply a part of life now, and each new day so strongly resembled the last that they all blurred together. In the river of time, I was a pebble. 

“What is the matter?” she asked calmly, her voice somehow entirely unaffected by me squishing her soft cheeks. 

Man, they can really stretch. “Nothing. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it.”

“If you say so.” Nodding amiably, she moved to the opposite side of the campfire. When she sat down, however, she realized her cheeks were still stretched out and started squishing them back to their usual shape. 

I’ll just pretend I didn’t see that. 

The campfire flames cut a small hole in the veil of shadow, revealing a glimpse of our surroundings. Resting my elbows on my bent knees, I gazed absently at the scenery. Overgrown vegetation had laid claim to the once-great buildings, and it seemed that this area too was mostly abandoned—save for the pair of us, nestled in the emptiness with only our exhaled breaths to keep us company. And mine sounded so slow and weak, I didn’t need a mirror to recognize that I was exhausted.

I’d forgotten to keep an eye on the sun while I was walking around. In a blink, it sank beneath the horizon, and the darkness made me sleepy. 

My head drooped away from its resting place in my palm, and I slumped forward. My consciousness sank even faster, as if caught in quicksand. Why do living creatures need to sleep, anyway? I wondered, quietly imagining what lay beyond the dark. If only I could keep going… If I never needed to stop…I’d get so much farther…

“Incidentally, when are we having dinner, Chito-san?” 

The sound of my name swept away the pleasant drowsiness. Now that my companion’s cheeks were back to normal, she was once again demanding food.

“Oh, right. Gimme a sec.” 

On her prompting, I glanced around, then retrieved one of the red fruits threatening to spill from my knapsack. It had taken me half a day of running around just to find those, and when I held the fruit in my palm, I felt the weight on my shoulders grow heavier.

“No clue if it’s poisonous, but here you go.”

“Nom nom.” 

I was joking, of course; I knew full well that the fruits were safe. Still, this little creature would eat not only the skin but the bitter core too. Since I was in no position to waste food myself, I’d once tried to do the same, only to fail miserably. On another occasion, I’d found her eating something off the ground and assumed it was safe for me as well, only to end up wrestling with rainbow-tinged hallucinations that lasted hours. Those experiences had taught me quickly not to take cues from her eating habits. 

Her teeth were another mystery; each bite carved a perfectly flat incision into the fruit. Sure enough, with a rhythmic crunching, she devoured it core and all. Satisfied, she began rocking from side to side in time with the fire. As her hair swayed, it sent sparkles into the air. Whenever I tried to catch one on my finger, it melted away into nothingness.

Like the fire, my companion was an important source of warmth and light. 

“Tell me another story.”

After traveling all day long, I had no intention of moving a hairsbreadth. At times like these, I took the most comfort in listening to her babble about something or other, knowing I’d surely fall asleep before she finished.

“Is there more to the one you told me last time?”

“Oh, that?” Her deep purple eyes locked onto mine for a moment. Then she closed them and rested her hands on her small, bony knees. “Let me think…”

If every word of it was to be believed, then that silly little story of hers was set more than 3,700 years in the past. 

***

“You know those anecdotes about the stupid misunderstandings that kids sometimes have?”

“Uh…yeah? What about them?”

“When I was little, there was this local art store called Realm Art, and I always thought it was called ‘Real Mart’ for some reason.”

“You did…?”

“Yeah.” 

We walked down the street, our eyes on the traffic light ahead. What were we going to buy again? I feel like I was craving strawberry jam… As I combed my memory, I felt eyes on me. They were Adachi’s, and she seemed to be waiting patiently for me to continue.

“That’s all,” I explained. “End of story.”

“Oh…okay, then.” Frowning, she faced forward.

“What? We’re going to the store, so I was just talking about stores.” 

“Yeah, I know. You’re always like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like that.”

What’s that supposed to mean?! 

Sometimes, walking along the road from the condo to the grocery store was as breezy as a midday jaunt; at other times, it felt like a death march. Today was one of the better days, in part because it was the weekend. With Adachi at my side, I strolled along blithely under the clear blue sky. The month of May had barely begun, yet it was already as warm as June. If I tilted my head back, I’d probably feel sweat trickle down my neck. 

The moment we stepped into the store and felt the faint chill of the air conditioning, I felt something akin to deep relief. Before I could grab one of the red shopping baskets near the entrance, Adachi retrieved one for me.

“How very thoughtful, my dear Adachi-chan.” I was trying to sound like a rich lady, but Adachi gave me a weird look. Confused, I waited for her to explain.

“…You sound like your mom,” she told me.

“Urgh…” That felt like a harsh reminder that I was getting older—not that I minded, but it was hard to accept unhesitatingly. “Ho ho ho ho ho! Oh, Adachi-san, you’re simply too much… Come on, there aren’t any snobby ladies like that at your job?” 

I gave her shoulder a little nudge; she swayed sideways dutifully, forcing a smile. “No…? Does anyone in the world actually laugh like that?”

“I’m not sure.” Hino was the wealthiest lady I knew, and even she didn’t sound like that. 

Adachi and I worked at different companies—since, as she put it, “We’d never accomplish anything otherwise.” Considering that she was the same person who’d wanted to do everything together when we were teens, perhaps that was proof that she’d grown up…or calmed down. Either way, I felt like a proud mother hen.

All jokes aside, I was glad to see that she’d found a sense of security. Maybe, over the years, she’d developed a firmer grasp of my feelings…and maybe I’d gotten better at expressing them. Gosh, I hope so. 

With Adachi in charge of carrying the basket, we wound our way along the aisles. Humming, I swept my index finger through the air as if tracing it over all the fruits and vegetables in turn. Something akin to a vibrant musical note surfaced in my mind as I imagined how each would taste—probably because I was hungry.

“You always have fun at the grocery store, don’t you, Shimamura?”

“You think so?” I thought back over the time we’d spent here thus far, and…yeah, I was in a pretty good mood. “Well, I mean…isn’t it fun to see all the mountains of fruit and stuff?”

“Uhhh…”

Evidently, she wasn’t inclined to agree. But hey, she was entitled to that opinion, just as I was entitled to mine.

I returned to admiring the piles of bananas and neatly boxed cherries. Maybe thanks to all the pops of color, looking at them made my heart soar, and as we passed the tidy rows of pineapples, I felt their tangy scent practically seep into my chest. However, that clearly wasn’t a universal experience; even though she was right there with me, Adachi’s perspective seemed altogether different. Perhaps, for someone with so little interest in food, there simply wasn’t much to enjoy.