Adachi to Shimamura - Volume 99.9 - Chapter 1.3

“I thought I would offer a solution to your quandary.”

“Why, thank you.”

“But, of course, anything would be fine in my book.” 

Yashiro’s definition of “anything would be fine” wasn’t quite the same as Adachi’s. She clicked her pale-blue teeth loudly. When I looked down at her, I felt as though she’d somehow gotten even smaller since I was in high school. 

“Why udon, anyway?”

“I saw it on television this afternoon.”

“Doesn’t take much, huh?” Was this my mother’s influence at work? 

Grabbing Yashiro by the shoulders, I gave her a good shake—“Whoawhoawhoa!”—until I was satisfied. Then I peered back into the fridge, taking stock of our noodles.

“If I make udon, there won’t be enough for you.”

“That is a major problem.” 

Standing on tiptoe, Yashiro peeked past me, scanning our fridge’s contents from top to bottom. As soon as she spotted the chocolate on the highest shelf, she jumped up and lunged for it—but I reflexively swatted her hand away, knocking it straight to the floor.

“You’ve gotten better, Shimamura-san.”

I smirked proudly. “Heh heh heh.” Really, I probably should’ve been concerned that Yashiro had just jumped two meters off the ground like it was nothing, but I decided to ignore it. With one hand on her shoulder to keep her in place, I continued to brainstorm. “Okay, uh, what’d you have for lunch today?”

“I partook of a single peach.” Not very helpful. 

I pulled out the leftover rice from last night and squinted down at it. “Guess I could just make fried rice.” When I was growing up, that was what my mother always defaulted to when she was out of better ideas. Not much rice was left in the container, but I could make up for that by adding a bunch of other ingredients. 

“Yay!” Yashiro cheered, just as she would have for any other meal.

“Have we got miso soup to go with it? Yep, found the mix… Okay, what else…?”

“I shall set the table!” Grabbing three sets of chopsticks from the cutlery drawer, she toddled off. It was a considerate gesture, albeit a tad premature. 

“You’ve learned how to help out, huh? I’m proud of you.”

“Heh heh heh. Little is always asking for my assistance.” 

Grinning smugly, she set the chopsticks neatly in front of each chair. I watched for a moment, then laughed, slouching. “How is she, anyway?”

“What do you mean?”

“Um…” For a moment, I wasn’t sure how to rephrase the question. “Does she give you lots of treats?”

“I am indeed well-fed.” 

“Glad to hear it,” I said with a laugh, mildly concerned for my sister’s wallet. “Will you set some spoons out too?”

“Okey dokey!” Yashiro ran around the kitchen on her stubby little legs, plopping silverware onto the table and dashing right back to me. Her gaze was…expectant.

“What?”

“When I assist Little, she always gives me a reward.”

“Really, now…” 

“Hint, hint!”

I get it, thank you. I stared down at her for a moment, then reached downward and ruffled her hair.

“Ho ho ho!” I thought she’d demand more, but surprisingly, that seemed to be enough for her. 

“Hmmm…” Now I felt like a cheapskate, so I decided to give her a piece of candy too.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

“You’re supposed to suck on it!” That way it lasts longer!

With nothing left to help with, she began wandering aimlessly around the kitchen.

“Hey, uh, you’re kind of in the way.”

“I am?”

“Go watch TV or something.” 

As I steered Yashiro out of the kitchen, she raised both hands and squealed, dashing straight to the couch. There, she flopped down, grabbed the remote, and started channel surfing, only stopping when she spotted a food commercial. Predictable. Then again, knowing her, she could probably read the wavelengths of a static screen if she really wanted to.

“Is Adachi-san working late tonight?”

“Yeah. Just a little. She takes her job really seriously.” 

Not that I didn’t take my job seriously, but given that Adachi had worked part-time all the way through high school, she was clearly used to putting in effort consistently. Her salary was higher than mine too, so whenever it was her turn to do the chores on top of work, I couldn’t help feeling like a bit of a mooch. 

When we’d first decided to move in together, we discussed everything—where we would live, whether one or both of us would get a job, even the size of our refrigerator and the style of our dining table—because if we didn’t, Adachi would just shrug and say that she was fine with whatever I wanted. She had no qualms about me making all her life choices for her. Not that she really needed to have qualms about that, I supposed. 

Once her TV show had come to an end, Yashiro soon started snoring on the couch. My sister had once described her as “a cat in human form,” and I was inclined to agree. Whenever she had a chance to nap, she took it. That said, I was in no position to talk…although, as an adult, I obviously could no longer sleep whenever I wanted. Except on weekends. 

“The other day, I slept in until 2 p.m., and Adachi was so flabbergasted…”

“How very slothful of you, Shimamura-san.”

“Says the girl who’s face down on my couch right now.” You’re also supposed to be asleep. 

I figured I might as well prep dinner as much as possible, since there was still time before Adachi got home, so I peeled an onion, diced it up, and started frying it. This was the way my mother always made fried rice, and now it was the way I made it—the sort of trifling quirk inherited not through anything so grand as blood, but merely through human connection. 

“It smells delicious already.”

“Yeah.”

“Zzzz…”

“Either nap or talk. You don’t get to do both.” 

Was she doing that thing where half of her brain slept while the other half was active? I had heard that that was possible for certain bird species, and if birds could do it, maybe other creatures could too. 

Once dinner was prepped, I sat down on the couch and tossed a light blanket over Yashiro, who lay next to me. One side of my body felt oddly heavy, as if all my fatigue had migrated there, and I tilted sideways onto the armrest. With my mouth dangling half-open, I zoned out and admired the slanted view of the sunset through the window. The slightest change in perspective sent our ordinary town soaring into space—like a game I was playing with nothing but my own two eyes. 

“That looks like the color of curry, doesn’t it?” Yashiro remarked. I wasn’t sure what she was looking at, considering that her eyes were closed.

“Curry?” I repeated wryly. The kid wasn’t beating the “glutton” allegations anytime soon. More importantly, the sky wasn’t quite as dark as curry, so I offered an alternative. “That’s what they call a ‘caramel-colored’ sky.” Or sometimes “candy-colored,” although I wasn’t sure why. Maybe as a reference to cotton candy, if I had to guess.

“Really?”

“Really really.” 

“Very well. Caramel is tasty too.” 

“Is that all you ever think about?”

I poked the sole of her tiny little foot. Squish.

“Zzzzrrrggg…” Now even her snores were starting to sound weird. Was her imitation of a human really this bad, or was that weirdness simply her default state? 

With the setting of the sun, I inevitably ran out of things to do. How would my younger self have spent this time…? After a moment of reflection, I decided I might as well take a nap myself. The moment I started lifting my feet onto the couch, however, it occurred to me that I was acting like a 1950s housewife waiting for her husband to come home. The thought didn’t sit well with me. But if I wanted to stay awake until Adachi got home, then I couldn’t stay seated. 

Rising to my feet, I started doing whatever random radio-calisthenics exercises I could remember. Before I knew it, Yashiro had joined me, matching my movements with her eyes still closed.

“One, two, three, four…” 

“How do you have these memorized?”

“I do them with Little all the time.” 

“Oh, wait, I think I remember that.” 

When we were kids, there had been times during summer break when my sister came home from the radio-calisthenics venue dragging Yashiro with her. Of course, these days, she clearly didn’t need to be dragged. As I watched her strange, floaty motions, I felt like a refreshing drop of cold, crisp water was trickling into my chest. 

Later that night, after I’d killed enough time (and my drowsiness to boot)…

“Ah. She’s returned,” Yashiro announced, interrupting her umpteenth nap to open one eye.

“Wait. Really?” 

At this point, I didn’t bother questioning how Yashiro could possibly sense such things; past experience had taught me that she simply could. Sure enough, as I rose to my feet, the doorbell rang. If only Yashiro could learn to do the same thing, I thought, heading to the entryway.

“Welcome home!”

“Thanks.”

It was nearly eight o’clock by the time my hus—er, Adachi—came home. She was much earlier than she had been the previous night, however, and seemed much less exhausted. Swatting her bangs out of her face, she let out a breath.

“You had a long day today, huh?”

“What, like you didn’t?” 

Smiling faintly, she took her shoes off and lined them up next to mine. Only when our shoes were side by side did I realize that hers were slightly larger. It’s not like any part of my body is bigger than Adachi’s, though, right? Ha ha ha. Well, except maybe my heart. Considering all those years I’d spent caring for my younger sibling, I hoped that was one area where I beat her by a landslide, but…

“Hmmm… Not sure…”

“Huh? What are you talking about?” 

“Oh, nothing!” Forcefully changing the subject, I took Adachi’s briefcase. Dang, this thing’s heavy. “Are you tired?” 

“Yeah.” She nodded without hesitation. Then she froze for a moment, her eyes darting. At last, she looked back at me, blinking rapidly.

“What…?”

“Er, I mean…! I-I’ll never get tired of coming home to…you…!” 

It was clearly a line she’d thought up on the spot, then gotten too embarrassed to finish. I found it oddly energizing. “Oh yeah? Then let’s hear your catchphrase.”

“Huh?!” 

Was that really such a surprising request when, by my estimation, we repeated this exchange on a near-weekly basis? Adachi stared down at the floor, processing. Then, finally, she looked up…and put her arms around me.

“Wha—?”

“Upsy-daisy!”

“Whoa!”

“I’m doing just peachy, girlfriendo!” 

Grinning from ear to ear, she’d hoisted me up into the air. I felt her firm muscles against my back and giggled, kicking my dangling feet. At this point in our relationship, it only took a scant few words to make us smile. 

After setting me back down, she laughed weakly. “See? Just peachy.”

“Gee, sorry to tucker you out like that,” I replied, pretending to pout as I felt her energy rejuvenate me. “Am I really that heavy?”

“N-no! At least, I don’t think so! I don’t know!” she blurted out, then turned and strode away. When I gave chase, she broke into a run; to prove I was no slouch, I followed suit. Really, I was just relieved to know that she wasn’t completely drained. 

“Welcome home,” Yashiro greeted her from the couch. 

Adachi stopped short. “Oh. You again.” 

“Yes. Good evening.”

She eyed the little girl’s bright-blue hair. “Were you eavesdropping on us?” 

“‘Just peachy, girlfriendo’!” Yashiro responded. Then I heard a lunging sound, followed by, “Ho ho ho! You may lift me too if you like.”

“Pass.” 

Despite Adachi pinching her cheeks, Yashiro was still smiling. Meanwhile, I set Adachi’s briefcase down. I was glad to see that she and Yashiro were on better terms lately. “Go get changed while I make dinner.”

“Okay. Thanks.” 

She walked off to the bedroom, leaving Yashiro standing there with her face all stretched out like a drawstring bag. The little alien toddled to the dining table, took a chopstick in each hand, and posed. “Shing! I am prepared.”

“Fix your face while you wait.”

“Oops.”