Adachi to Shimamura - Volume 99.9 - Chapter 2.1

Chapter 2:

Shima

AT THIS POINT, I wasn’t sure whether I was searching for humans or just bicycles. 

This region was particularly overgrown, compared to the cities—lush wilderness untamed by human hands, thriving freely. Maybe this planet was more stable without so many humans on it. 

Those were the sorts of thoughts that might have crossed my mind as I scanned the spot for my quarry. To keep myself grounded, I shot occasional glances over my shoulder at the massive tree I had designated a landmark. Behind it, I saw that perpetual caramel-colored sky. The clouds had split off in all directions, as if fleeing the sunset. 

“Doo doo dooooo…daaah da da daaah…doo doo dooooo…ho ho ho…”

“Ho…?” I stopped short, then yanked Yashiro out of my knapsack and set her on the ground. 

“What is the matter?”

“I think it’s time you do some walking for a change.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I said so.” Read: Because I could tell she was taking it easy. 

“Oh, very well.” 

She toddled along beside me. Not once had I ever seen her get breathless or even break a sweat. She simply never lost her sparkle. Still, puzzling over every little mysterious detail was too tiring, so at some point I’d started shrugging that off. 

How long ago had I started traveling with this unidentified life-form? Sometimes, I suspected it would feel a lot more poetic if she were a dog instead. Then again, dogs couldn’t hold a conversation, so maybe this was the better deal. 

“Incidentally, where are we headed?” she asked after we’d walked for a while.

“I don’t know exactly. Just wherever there’s a bicycle.” 

In search of a replacement for the bike I had ridden to death, I wandered deep into the forest, where the trees there seemed to absorb all wind, leaving only heavy heat hanging over us. Well, I used the word “forest,” but I could see the remains of old buildings here and there, so I was pretty sure this had been a town at some point. And survivors tended to live among ruins…according to the person who’d raised me. That had been true for us, at least. Thus, I hoped I’d conveniently find an abandoned bike lying around this area somewhere.

“A bicycle, you say…?” Yashiro tottered along without giving the slightest indication that she was helping to look. “Do you need one?”

“I do.”

“I thought you said you found a place where people might be.”

“I did.” I felt her eyes on me as she walked, as if she were confused about my priorities. She just doesn’t get it, does she? “But to get there, I’ll need a bike.”

“Why?”

“So I can make a quick getaway if I need to.” On foot and mostly unfamiliar with the land, I was at a disadvantage. With a bike, however, it was much less likely that someone could catch me. But of course, I doubted Yashiro would understand any of that. “There’s no guarantee that they’d be friendly, you know?” I added. I couldn’t assume that others would share my motivations. That was just common sense. 

“Wooow,” Yashiro exclaimed, though I was sure she didn’t actually give a rat’s ass. “You are truly an odd duck, Chito-san.”

“Pot, meet kettle,” I chuckled. 

“I find myself uncertain as to whether you actually want to find people.”

“Ugh…”

I hated that she saw straight through me—and with that silly smile on her face. Sometimes, she could almost trick me into thinking she was a deep, introspective girl.

“Oh. I have just remembered.” 

“Hmm?” 

She walked a short distance from me, spun in a circle, stopped facing in a specific direction, and set off running.

“Whoa! Where are you going, alien?!”

“I’ll be baaack!”

With a wave, she retreated into the trees. I started to run after her, but her tiny silhouette slipped away into the shadows, and I sensed that I wouldn’t manage to keep up with her. 

“Putting her cryptid powers to good use, I guess…”

All I could do was watch her go and wonder how she moved so fast. Standing there, I scratched my head. I didn’t have a clear reason for traveling with her; we’d bumped into each other by chance, and so here we were. Even now, I was just going with the flow. 

“I suppose I could wait around for a little while.” Lowering my knapsack, I plopped down on the spot. The air temperature seemed to increase almost instantly. “It’s not like she can get very far, anyway.” 

I flopped onto my back as if defeated—and, in the process, felt a light stabbing pain, possibly blades of grass biting into my cheek. As they mingled with my hair, both equally hot to the touch, I could almost hallucinate that I’d become one with the earth itself. If I stayed here long enough, perhaps I’d put down roots and never get up again. 

Of course, it didn’t take anywhere near that long for Yashiro to return. She dashed through the trees without stopping, almost as if phasing through them entirely. Unlike before, her little hands were now laden with fruit. 

“I get it. You remembered you were hungry?” I scoffed, smiling. 

Then she walked right up to me and offered me one of the fruits.

“Huh…?” This was uncommon behavior for the little glutton, so I sat up in surprise. 

“Today is the anniversary of the day we met.” 

“It is?” 

“I have been counting, so I am fairly certain.” 

I took her gift from her hand. It was the red-skinned fruit that we always ate. “Yeah, it feels like it was around this time of year, huh?” 

One might think that it would be difficult to track dates and seasons in a world where the weather barely changed, but somewhere in my memory I had engraved the feeling of the air against my skin. This time of year, the heat was like a sticky blanket. Shaking it off, I tilted my head back and took in everything raining down from the sky. 

“Anniversaries are very important.”

“Oh yeah? Is that so?”

“So I am told.”

You don’t sound very confident. Faced with her bright smile, I exhaled. “Anniversaries, huh…?”

Muttering to myself, I bit into the fruit. 

***

“Oh. It’s my birthday.”

I frankly deserved praise for noticing at all. For some reason, I tended to forget until way later every year. Were birthdays really that boring to me? What kind of birthday could possibly be boring? 

“It should be flashier…like shiny gold origami paper…”

At this point, even I didn’t know what I meant, so I quit thinking about it. Maybe birthdays simply weren’t exciting at this age. After all, I’d already had so many. 

“Hmmm…”

And so I turned twenty.

“Wait, I’m in my twenties now? Really?”

Naturally, there was no response from the empty air, nor any proof. I pinched my cheeks, jumped in place, even swung my hips, but my body felt no different from yesterday. 

“Oh well.” 

Scanning the calendar, I found today’s date and drew a star on it. Each of its five points turned out evenly sized. Wow. I’m an adult, all right! I admired my perfect star for a moment, then glanced around the room, wondering what to do with myself. 

It was the weekend, but I’d woken up surprisingly early; it was still morning outside my window. Squinting into the bright sunlight, I reached for my cell phone. No one had tried to contact me.

“Hunh. You’d think Adachi would have everything about me memorized,” I mused quietly, making myself blush. Was I just being arrogant? 

Considering that Adachi’s first name was “Sakura,” she deserved a spring birthday way more than I did. My name, on the other hand, was written with the kanji for “moon,” so its seasonal vibe was more…autumnal, maybe? Harvest moons and all that. Then again, I liked seeing the moon’s faded glow in the clear blue sky during a long summer day. Pretty cool stuff.

My thoughts carried on in a disjointed tangent until I eventually decided to have breakfast and left the room. Out in the hall, the house didn’t seem any different either. 

“Oh, I forgot.” 

I immediately doubled back to my room to grab my phone so I’d have it on hand at all times, just in case Adachi called. When I stepped in, however, I saw a little butt and pair of legs sticking out from under my blanket. Where’d you come from?!

“What are you doing?” 

As if in response to my question, the legs wiggled; I grabbed her ankles and yanked her out. Dangling upside down, she gazed up at me calmly, her hair somehow defying the pull of gravity. “Nothing of particular significance.”

“Figured.” 

Obviously, it was Yashiro—who else would it be? Well, maybe my mom would’ve done this to troll me… As I contemplated that possibility, Yashiro flipped onto her feet. Today, she wore a lion onesie; yesterday, it had been a chicken onesie that my sister bought her. Personally, I liked that one better. 

“Good morning.”

“Yes, yes, good morning.”

“Hmm?” She squinted up at the calendar. “Today is marked with a star.”

“The star is for birthdays.” 

“Wooow.” After that half-assed response, she toddled over to me. “Is it your birthday, Shimamura-san?” 

“Yup. My twentieth, in fact.” 

I held up two fingers; through the gap in my inadvertent peace sign, I could see Yashiro’s blue eyes. They moved slowly, like twin planets swimming through the galaxy. 

“Twenty years old at last? You are still practically a baby.”

“Not as babyish as you, kid. When’s your birthday, anyway?” I asked offhandedly. I had to stop myself from continuing the question with “if you even have one.” Obviously, she had to have a birthday, even if she seemed beyond such things at times.

“My birthday? Let me think…” She started counting something on her stubby fingers, but she quickly gave up and dropped her hands. “Today is close enough.”

“Today?”

“That means we match!”

“Ha ha ha…” Watching her jump for joy, I decided not to protest.

“I shall now go brag to Little!” With that, she ran from the room, arms thrust in front of her.

“What’s there to brag about…?” 

Having a birthday was so mundane. Now I was really starting to think she didn’t have one. Phone in hand, I headed to the kitchen.

“It’s so hot…” I’d barely walked ten feet, yet I was sweating as if it were already summer. 

Then a voice from the living room flagged me down: “Hey, come here!”

Backtracking, I peered into the room to see my mother lying on her side in front of the television, cuddling a cushion, like an otter with a seashell. 

When she spotted me, she bolted upright. “I hear it’s your birthday today.”

“Shouldn’t you have that kind of thing memorized, Mom?”

“Come on. I’m obviously just joking! Pfff ha ha ha ha!” When I tried to ignore her, she smacked the floor. “Come have a seat.”

“What about breakfast?”

“It can wait!” 

Prompted by her obnoxious floor-smacking, I reluctantly sat down beside her.

“Now lay back.”

She grabbed my head and shoulders and pulled me toward her. Unable to struggle against her gym-honed strength, I fell sideways. My head now in her lap, I looked up at her. “What is it?”

“Doesn’t this feel like a special birthday scene?”

How should I know? 

Her fingers combed through my hair to my exposed earlobe and gave it a pinch. “Happy, happy birthday!”

“Gee, thanks.” 

That pinch didn’t feel like a very kind gesture, but when I tried to sit up—“Hey!”—she held me down, forcing me into the celebration. (Never thought I’d have to write those words in that order, but here we are.) How long had it been since I’d last rested my head in her lap? I dreaded the thought of my little sister walking in on us—knowing her, she’d never let me live it down. 

As I squirmed restlessly, my mother located my cowlick and began to twirl it.

“Could you stop?!”

“Oh—I found a gray hair.”

“Pull it out!” 

“No way. Keep it! It’s a grown-up’s badge of honor.” 

It certainly wasn’t one that I’d ever wanted—but maybe that was the point. Not everything about growing up would be sunshine and roses. Of course, I knew my mother hadn’t thought about it that deeply. The television screen in front of us displayed a news reporter standing beside a pink pig. 

“You’ve really outgrown my lap, huh, kid?” As she spoke, she gave me a slap on the butt, which I didn’t appreciate. “Twenty years… God, I feel so old.” She heaved a long, heavy sigh, and for once, I couldn’t quite tell whether she was joking. “So, are you going somewhere with Adachi-chan today?”

“No plans yet.” 

If I asked, Adachi would surely suggest something. But for some reason, I found myself waiting—wanting her to make the first move. And if midnight rolled around before I heard from her, I was prepared to forget about it until next year…at which point I’d probably do the exact same thing. 

“What about you? Do you see her at the gym a lot?”

“Huh?”

“Mrs. Adachi, I mean.” 

“Nah, not a lot. And whenever I do see her, she tells me to go to hell at least twice.”

“Wow. You guys are besties now.”

“I know, right? Gah ha ha!” she cackled gleefully, and I started feeling a tiny bit sorry for Adachi’s mom. “We might be even closer than you and her kid.”

“Uhhh…” Mildly concerning if true.

“Anyway, is there something special you’d like to eat today?”

“What do you mean, special?”

“You know, a favorite of yours or something?”

“Well, there’s tamagoyaki and okonomiyaki… I also like yakisoba…” 

Being my mother, of course, she obviously knew all those. Still, even though she’d asked the question, she didn’t sound enthusiastic about my answer. “Hm.” 

“Weren’t you offering to make something?” I asked, perplexed.

“Ehhh…” 

What kind of reaction is that? 

“I already make those all the time.”

“So?”

“I guess I could mix ’em all together.” 

Addition was seemingly the only solution her brain was capable of. “What are you, five?”

Chuckling, she rubbed my back gently, her touch soft enough to reach my soul. Then, before I could fully process my confusion, she leaned forward to look at my face.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

“Just thinking about when you were a baby.” Her smile was so familiar that I couldn’t help combing my memories in search of it. “Whenever I watched you sleep, I’d say to myself…”

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t think she needs to be rich or famous…but I want her to be a thoughtful, strong girl.”

“Is that…an Earthbound reference?” 

“Gah ha ha ha!” She dodged the question. “So are you strong?”

“How does it feel to be strong?”

“Is that a Hajime no Ippo reference?” As she spoke, she closed her eyes and smiled, then looked back at me. “If you ask me, strength feels like having the courage not to shy away from things that scare you.”

My mother seldom let herself be serious, so this was a rare birthday treat. I looked up at her, chasing that elusive ray of light; she was still smiling softly at me, as if I were her baby all over again. 

“I guess that’s what I’ll strive for, then.” Now that I’m all grown up.

“Good.” She gave me another slap on the butt. Was I her personal drum now? 

“Eh, whatever.” Just this once, I somehow didn’t get mad at her. 

“Twenty years old,” she murmured again. Then she scoffed. “Lucky brat!” Out of nowhere, she yanked my hair. 

“Gah!” I felt a tiny prick of pain in my scalp. “Excuse you!”

“What? You told me to pull the hair out.”

“The gray one?”

“Maybe.”

“Hey!” 

As if to spite me, she brought her hand to my face and opened her fingers. Before my eyes, a single strand of hair danced down to the floor—and, yes, it was gray. 

***

A long time ago, I’d read an essay someone wrote about their twentieth birthday. In it, the author claimed that, from that day on, their whole town looked brand-new to them. I decided to test that theory for myself.

“Left, right, left…” 

The streets were so empty, I felt no qualms about muttering to myself as I walked. The road to the train station looked no different from yesterday; at most, the comparative lack of clouds made the morning sun seem slightly brighter. No miraculous makeover had breathed new life into my everyday reality. Slowly, the strange feeling of accomplishment I’d experienced back home began to fade.

“Hmmm…” 

I checked my phone periodically. There was still no word from Adachi—which was fine, of course. But if possible, I wanted her to remember my birthday without me having to point it out. You can do it, Adachi! 

“Am I being high-maintenance…?” I mumbled aloud as I tucked my phone away. But arguably it was her fault I had these expectations. You know, due to her…um…setting me loose. Now I was worlds from my previous self, feeling things that previous self never would’ve dreamed of. And, without Adachi, this town was just a town. 

That was when I realized: It wasn’t my age that would change me. For better or for worse, it was Adachi whose ups and downs sent me on a roller-coaster ride. That was the kind of speed she was capable of—though, admittedly, she sometimes lost control and sent us both crashing headfirst into a brick wall. 

I was starting to wonder whether there was any point walking around here at all. Nevertheless, my feet carried on through pure inertia, until…

“Well, if it isn’t Shimama-chan!” a voice called from slightly below my line of sight—Sorry, is that rude? I turned to look.

It was Hino. She must’ve turned twenty herself this year, but she was still just as short as in high school. Clad in a red kimono, she gave me a wobbly little wave. I saw her wearing traditional Japanese clothing around town a lot more often these days; maybe it was related to her familial responsibilities, or maybe she simply preferred it. In any case, I walked over to her.

“Got nothing to do today?” she asked.

“That’s the way all weekends should be, in my opinion.” They were meant for resting, after all.

“Fair point.” 

Hino rolled up her long sleeves and folded her arms. Her hair was tied up in a bun, which suited her traditional look. She looked at the sky, shifted from side to side, then started slapping my shoulder, suggesting that she was just as bored as I was.

“I was actually gonna go for a walk before I bumped into you, Shimamama-chan,” she explained, casually adding another “ma.” 

“Oh, right. Your house is in this neighborhood, isn’t it?” 

“It’s only a two-minute walk until you can see it, but it’s a ten-minute walk to reach the front door.”

“Sounds like good exercise.”

As I humored her rich-girl small talk, she turned on her heel. “Since you’re here, wanna come up for a cup of tea?”