Adachi to Shimamura - Volume 99.9 - Chapter 2.2

“At the Hino mansion?” 

“Where else can we get free drinks? Well, I guess there’s Nagafuji’s place too.”

“Okay, then, I’ll take you up on that.” I didn’t get many opportunities to chat with Hino now that we were out of school, so I figured, Sure, that works. 

I’d only ever been to Hino’s house once. Even then, I’d never set foot inside—but the surrounding scenery was truly unforgettable. There was so much bamboo! As we walked among the trees, the sunlight streamed down in a soft green that seemed to peel away all my impurities. When I told my mother about it later, she said she’d once had a similar experience—“I went exploring in there and nearly got myself arrested,” as she put it. Free-spirited as she could be, there were times she really needed someone to rein her in. Do your job, Dad.

“Is Nagafuji around?” 

“Don’t be stupid. It’s my house.”

Yeah, that’s why I asked. 

The road to Hino’s house was as breezy as I remembered. The very air felt different there, almost as if I’d wandered into a tourist resort—it was quiet and pleasantly chilly, like an invisible blanket of powdered snow. The wind carried a faint aroma from somewhere beyond the trees, and I breathed in a lungful. Ahead of me, Hino walked along idly, like it was all perfectly ordinary—because to her, of course, it was. 

As it turned out, ten minutes was an exaggeration, but still, it did take a full five minutes to reach the front door. Beyond the expansive front yard, which could only be described as “picturesque,” I saw several parked cars. Without a word or even so much as a glance in their direction, Hino walked into the house, and I followed suit.

“I’m hooome!”

“Back so soon, my lady?” A middle-aged woman cleaning the shoe cupboard, presumably a household assistant, looked over her shoulder at Hino. She noticed me standing there and quickly rose to her feet. “Forgive my impropriety.” 

“It’s fine—she’s just a friend. Carry on, carry on.” 

Hino patted her shoulder. Smiling wearily, the woman knelt back down. With a quick nod to her, I removed my shoes, moving to add them to the cupboard—but the woman took them from me and did it herself. I bowed to her again, to be polite.

“It feels like a whole different world here. A world with maids,” I remarked quietly as we walked down the hall.

“Dude, you said almost the exact same thing last time.”

“Did I?”

When I frowned in confusion, she snickered. “Sheesh. Your memory’s as bad as Nagafuji’s.”

“Whoa.” As we passed an open door, a little head peeked out, and I stopped short reflexively. The baby looked up at us, barely a tuft of hair on its head. “Is this your…sister?”

“Really?” Hino responded wryly. “Better that than my daughter, I guess… No, it’s my brother’s kid. He didn’t move out after he got married, unlike our older siblings.” 

Crouching, Hino reached out a hand, and her niece (or nephew—I couldn’t tell) crawled over. She lifted the baby into her arms, where it seemed perfectly content to stare at me over her shoulder.

“Hiii,” I greeted it, raising a hand. No reaction. I lowered my hand back down awkwardly. 

“Tons of big-sister energy, but no mommy vibes yet, it seems.” 

“I’m not sure I want to know what either of those things mean.” 

Given my relationship with Adachi, I surely had a bit of a mommy vibe—not that Adachi liked it much. What made the big-sister schtick any different? Evidently, it was a fine line.

The next thing I knew, a woman—probably the baby’s mother—joined us in the hallway. “I’m so sorry, Akira-chan!”

“Eh, it’s fine.” 

When Hino tried to hand the baby over, however, it flared its nostrils like it was about to cry. She hastily took it back, but it scowled grumpily.

“You’re popular, huh, Auntie?”

“I guess…” 

Under her self-deprecating grin, I could see that she was a tiny bit pleased. 

Once the baby was taken care of, Hino led me to her bedroom. It was my first time ever setting foot inside. The room was easily much bigger than the one I shared with my sister, and as I glanced around, I couldn’t help wondering how one person could possibly use all the space. 

Just then, an indigo floor cushion flew in my direction, spinning horizontally. I reflexively smacked it to the ground.

“I’ll go brew some tea.”

“’Kay.”

“Feel free to read my manga.”

“Will do.” 

Hino disappeared back down the hallway. Across the room from the opaque fusuma sliding door was a shoji-style lattice door; when I slid it open, I found an open-air corridor surrounding a spacious courtyard. 

“Whoooa,” I murmured, admiring the bright-white pea gravel. No wonder Mom almost got arrested for trespassing—this place really is like a resort. 

Next, I scanned Hino’s bookcase, which contained five shelves in total. The bottom two were packed with manga, the center shelf was reserved for novels, and the second-highest held a set of thick hardcover books. At first, I thought they were encyclopedias, but not quite; I realized from the titles on their spines that they were how-to books on the art of tea ceremony and other topics pertaining to Hino’s family business. Judging by the poor state of their bindings, each had been read and reread many, many times. 

As for the highest shelf, it was stuffed messily with textbooks, from elementary-school books all the way to those for the last year of high school. Oh man, I used to have the same music book! That takes me back. Crouching, I peered at Hino’s manga collection, running my finger along their spines. 

“Asagao to Kase-san1… Sure, that works.” 

The books were organized in alphabetical order by title—not by the author’s last name, which struck me as unusual. Grabbing one at random, I slid a floor cushion to the center of the room. Someone had once told me that they didn’t feel comfortable unless they sat in the corner—who was that again? My eyes were on the pages in front of me, yet I dug through my memories for the answer… But before I came up with anything, Hino returned, carrying a tray.

“Your books are organized weird,” I remarked, pointing at the shelves. 

“Oh, yeah, Nagafuji got bored and rearranged them a while back.”

“Gotcha.” 

Hino sat down across from me, placing the tray between us, then slid a teacup in my direction. “And here’s our teatime snack.” She picked up an open box lined with small metal tins—konpeito candies, if the labels were any indication—and gave it a shake.

“How very…luxurious.” Particularly the tea. The scent that rose with the steam had a deep richness. Personally, I would’ve been fine with stuff bought from a regular store.

“This was all we had in the kitchen, other than booze.” 

“Oh, I’m allowed to drink. Today’s my birthday.” Not that I’d ever tried any alcohol.

“Wait. For real? In that case, you can have two of these, as a treat.” She set two brown konpeito candies side by side. 

That’s it? Well, better than nothing. I reached over and picked them up.

“Come on. I’m just messing with you,” Hino added, handing me the entire tin. “Have as many as you want.”

“Aw, thanks.” I put just one in my mouth to start—and found myself mildly surprised. “Wow. These are good.” 

The quality was far beyond any candy I was used to, and from the refreshing aftertaste, I suspected they were super expensive. I’d hate for Yashiro to find out about these. 

“I think Nagafuji had the same reaction. It was a while back.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I joked, and Hino flashed her pearly whites.

We sat there in silence for a while, just drinking tea and gazing out at the garden scenery. I considered starting a conversation on a new topic, but in truth, my heart was at peace merely floating adrift in the serenity. Likewise, Hino sipped her tea at an elegant pace, as if searching for something more on the liquid’s surface. Unlike mine, her every motion was perfectly practiced. We were no longer in high school, but it was still readily apparent just how differently our parents must’ve raised us. 

So there I was, drunk on the thrill of munching on fancy konpeito and washing them down with fancy tea. When our cups finally ran dry, Hino rose to her feet.

“Tell me, dear Shima-san, are you better at shogi or go?”

“I’m clueless about go, but I do know how to play shogi.” 

As a kid, I’d played it out in the countryside with my grandpa, who’d always taken great pleasure in his landslide victories against me. Then he’d pat me on the head and tell me that I’d beat him one day. 

Back in those days, it was me, my grandpa, and…

“……”

And now I was twenty, and I still hadn’t beaten him.

“Shogi it is.” 

Hino walked to the corner of the room and retrieved a weathered yet well-built shogi board. I was no expert on antiques, granted, but I suspected it too was expensive. I ran a finger along the wood’s smooth surface. Why did everything in Hino’s house feel so good? Was “refined” the word I was looking for? 

“I’m honestly way better at Othello,” Hino remarked.

“Shouldn’t we play that instead, then?”

“Ha! A worthy battle can only be fought on even ground.”

“Oh, shut up.” 

“That was my Nagafuji impression.” 

After lobbing a potshot at our absent friend, Hino started lining up the pieces. To be fair, that had sounded like something Nagafuji would say.

Was I capable of doing an Adachi impression? Maybe not. Imitating all that energy would take a lot of effort.

I’d always liked the clacking sound the pieces made against the wood. For some reason, it reminded me of nail clippers. I briefly considered voicing that observation to Hino. I’d mentioned it to my grandfather once, but he’d just laughed at me. 

“So what have you been up to, Hino?” I ventured instead, my gaze wandering along the tidy row of pawns. 

“Me? I haven’t been doing anything,” she replied, taking one piece and moving it forward a space. Then she hunched forward, setting her chin in her palm. “Since we graduated, my life’s been a whole lotta nothing. Just fishing, walking, hanging out with Nagafuji… That’s about it.” 

“Lucky you.” 

“That’s a modern rich girl for ya. Don’t have to work to keep a roof over my head.” She let out a self-deprecating laugh. “How’s college, Shimama-chan?”

I couldn’t help noticing that the “ma” count had gone back up to two, but I didn’t mind. “Mmm, not bad. So far, at least.” 

“Glad to hear it.” 

She made each of her moves without much pause. As for me, I had a decent grasp of the rules, but I hadn’t studied the game, so I didn’t know any specific strategies to employ. Thus, I moved my pieces basically at random. 

“How’s Ada-cheechee?”

“She’s…ehh…she’s good.”

“Fortuitous tidings indeed.” 

“Why ask me, though?”

“Because it’s easier,” she answered matter-of-factly, squinting down at the shogi board.

“I guess so…” I hadn’t told her much about Adachi, but maybe she sensed our connection somehow. Still, she didn’t outright ask me about it—proof, perhaps, of a good friendship. “So you guys don’t have any pets?” I asked, flicking my gaze out at the yard. 

“Huh? I mean, we’ve had some animals move into our pond, but they’re not pets.”

She said it so casually—like a house having its own pond was the most normal thing in the world. The only thing that had moved into my place was a blue-haired alien… On second thought, maybe I had no room to criticize. 

“Given how much my family loves to travel, pets would complicate things.”

“Gotcha.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering.” I slid my rook far across the board. After a moment of contemplation, Hino moved one of her pieces toward it. Now my poor rook was all alone and in trouble. “Oops.”

“You’re not thinking this through, are you?”

Smiling, I scratched my head sheepishly. Guilty as charged.

From there, we played two rounds, both of which I lost. Right around the time we were considering a possible third, however…

“That reminds me—didn’t you say it was your birthday?”

“Yeah.” 

“Hold on a sec.” 

Rising to her feet, Hino walked away from our game and left the room. Taking the hint, I sat up straight as I waited for her. Sure enough, she returned with what was ostensibly a birthday present.

“You really didn’t have to…” 

“Of course I did. Gifts are important, you know! Lemme think of a way to explain it…”

“Okay.”

Folding her arms, Hino murmured under her breath, shooting glances out at the courtyard beyond the lattice door. “A is for ‘awesome,’ B is for ‘bestie’…”

“What is this, kindergarten?”

“That was a joke!” Popping her thumb joint, Hino stared out at the garden. “Take the wind, for instance. We can’t see it directly, but when we notice the plants sway, we know it’s there.”

“Yeah…?” I followed her line of sight toward where the gentle breeze trailed through the carefully manicured plants. 

“Well, maybe gifts are like that too. They’re side effects of the invisible human heart.” Grinning, she dropped her arms to her sides, then leaned forward and repeated, “The invisible human heart.”

“Oooh. Very cool,” I murmured, applauding her effort. 

“I know, right?” Pleased with herself, she sat back down.

“Say that again.”

Handing over my present, she chuckled softly. “Don’t be stupid. You already know I’ve forgotten it by now.”

Yeah, figured as much. 

Still, that breezy exchange was enough to stir the greenery in my chest. 

***

“Man, your rich-girl mansion is something else.”

My mind and body were both so relaxed, it had evidently loosened my lips.

After treating me to a lovely lunch, Hino had (probably jokingly) suggested that we take a midday soak in the tub—to which I readily agreed. Relaxing in my towel afterward, I was so cozy that I fell asleep. Strange how something as commonplace as a post-meal bath could feel so much more refreshing here. 

“One minute, I’m nodding off, and the next thing I know, the sun’s setting.” What was more, I remembered sitting in the open-air corridor, yet now I found myself lying on a bed. “Did you carry me here?”

“Me? Good one. No, I asked Enome-san…uh, one of the assistants.”

“How thoughtful.” 

“You were out cold, by the way. She thought it was hilarious.” 

“That’s really, um, shameful. My bad!” I laughed, running a hand through my surprisingly silky hair.

“You’re kind of a ditz, you know that?”

“Huh? I am?” 

“See? There it is again!” 

She pointed at my face, so I reached up to touch it. After that bath, my skin was as smooth as butter. 

On my way out, Hino walked me to the front door.

“So I heard you’re moving away after college.”

From who? I wondered. Nevertheless, I nodded. “Depends where I get hired, of course. But, ideally, yeah.”

“Then I guess we won’t see much of each other,” she remarked offhandedly. 

That was an understatement. Once I moved away, we literally wouldn’t see each other at all—quite possibly for the rest of our lives. For a moment, I wasn’t sure what to say.

“This is how I know we’re friends. If we weren’t, we wouldn’t even think about saying goodbye,” she continued. Then, after a pause, she scratched her cheek. “That was a sick line, huh?”

“Sure was! Encore, encore!” 

“Uhhh…Shima, you’re my buddy, awright!” Hino burst out laughing, and I knew that this time, she hadn’t actually forgotten what she’d first said—she was just being shy.

“Close enough.” 

“I know, right?” With a hand on her hip, she proudly thrust out her chest. “However many years go by, it won’t change the fact that we were friends here and now. If you ask me, that’s enough.” 

“…Yeah.” 

She made it sound so simple, yet it shook me to the core. To me, it sounded as though she took comfort in the past’s immutability—it meant that the good parts would always be there, forever enshrined. 

“Well, this is it.”

“Yep.”

“Say hi to Adatsy for me.”

With a wave, I started walking. I briefly debated whether to say, “See you around,” but ultimately decided against it. After all, like she said, what we had wasn’t going anywhere. And so I left her house, taking in the sight of the bamboo forest dyed amber, like waves of grain.

Just then…

“Oh!”

As if on cue, my phone buzzed—and instantly, I knew who’d messaged me.

Sure, come over, I replied. Then, still holding my phone, I stretched my hand straight out in front of me, toward the horizon. 

What was this strange thrill I felt? My heart was full of sunset, pumping it straight to my wrist. As my pulse quickened, so did my breaths, until at last the ordinary sunset turned tangerine, as if heralding the arrival of a new world.

And “arrive” she did, pedaling at such a breakneck speed that I thought she might bowl me over. 

“Ha ha!” When I saw her, I couldn’t help laughing so hard that my voice cracked. 

***

That night, I opened the living room window and looked out at our yard. Compared to Hino’s, it was downright tiny but also cozy—the ideal state for the place I called home. I could’ve stood there forever, gazing absently at the distant skyline, thinking back to the words I’d heard at sunset. 

Thinking back to Adachi. 

My post-bath flush had faded slightly; it now resembled something akin to a toasty-warm drowsiness that enveloped me inside and out. That feeling of supreme satisfaction evidently wasn’t limited to my stomach.

“You seem rather amused,” a childlike voice suddenly remarked from overhead. A beat later, a curtain of blue particles began to rain down slowly. If she was sitting on my shoulders, I could scarcely feel it. 

“And you’ve got pillow marks on your face.” When I looked up, those—and the light—were all I could see.

“Whenever my belly is full, I become sleepy. That is simply the way I am.”

“Pretty normal, actually.” 

I pulled her off my shoulders and plopped her down beside me. She stood there without a fuss, her lion tail swaying alongside her little legs. Why did it almost seem to have a mind of its own? It was just part of the onesie, right?

“You seem rather amused,” she repeated. 

Was I smiling or something? I touched my lips lightly. After a moment of contemplation, I decided that her observation was correct; apparently, I was. After all, it was impossible to think back to the way Adachi had acted today without making myself laugh. “Yeah, I guess.”

“It is good to have fun.” 

A persuasive statement, coming from a girl who seemingly never stopped smiling. There simply wasn’t an ounce of negativity in her body—like she was a manifestation of everything good in the world. In that sense, maybe she fell into the same category as Hino’s house. 

“What about you? Did my sister get you a gift or anything?”

“She did not believe me. Ho ho ho!” Yashiro beamed, then lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Little is very sharp, for in truth, I do not know when my birthday is. Please do not tell anyone!”

I’d seen that coming a mile away, but I nodded nevertheless.

“That said, she did purchase me a chocolate bar.”

“Nice.” Although no piece of chocolate could be sweeter than my little sis.

“I hope tomorrow is my birthday too.”

“That’s not how your birthday works.” I poked her head wryly; she pitched sideways, squealing in delight. “Birthdays are fun because they only happen once in a looong while.”

“Is that true?”

“Indeed,” I replied, mimicking her voice. Then I let out a breath. “Once a year, your age goes up, and then…” 

“And then?”

“And then you keep making an effort to celebrate it instead of dreading it. At least, that’s my plan.”

“Ohhh.” She didn’t sound genuinely impressed.

Chuckling, I tilted my head back and thought I felt a cold liquid flow past my cheeks and chin. I reached up to search for it, but it turned out not to be the sort of trail my fingers could track. 

“And I hope I never stop…right up until the birthday before I die,” I admitted honestly, wagging my index finger. “Because when death comes for me…it’d be kind of sad to want to fight it.” 

After all, that wish would be doomed to go ungranted. So I hoped I’d be ready to welcome death on my final day. Was that a weakling’s mindset? If I was strong, would I be up for anything? I was still a total wimp, so I wouldn’t know that feeling. 

“Hmmm.” Her lion ears wiggled. “To be truthful, I do not fully understand.”

“I’m not surprised.” 

In my opinion, an alien didn’t need to understand that. But that was probably what I liked about her—the ease with which she bridged the gap between herself and entire planets. 

She raised her hand to make an offer. “However, if you feel you would struggle on your own, I would be happy to figure out your final day with you!”

“You would…?”

“Heh heh heh. I am a very good person, you see.” She sounded confident, if nothing else. 

“My final day, huh…?” While I appreciated her kind offer, that was (hopefully) a long time from now. “Do you know when that’ll be?”

In the worst-case scenario, I could die tonight in my sleep. Nothing was guaranteed.

“Ho ho ho! At the very least, it is not today.”

“Good. That would really suck.” 

Adachi and I had already planned so much. There were a lot of promises I had yet to keep. Before I died, I wanted to live happily ever after…and to share that happiness with her. 

“For right now—” Yashiro lowered her hood, her faint blue sparkle illuminating the room—“I wish you a happy birthday, Shimamura-san.”

The words hit me squarely in the face, and as always, I could tell there was genuinely sheer kindness behind them.

“You too,” I replied after a beat. 

The fuzzy feeling carved out in the aftermath of our conversation compelled me to reach out to stroke her hair. It felt like my fingers were combing through moonlight. 

***

In the end, I never did find a bicycle. 

“What a waste of time and energy.”

“Ho ho ho!”

I heard Yashiro laugh overhead and knew she’d sneaked back into the knapsack.

“Oh well…” At least, for whatever reason, I’d received an anniversary gift. Looking at things that way, this hadn’t been a complete loss. “How many years have we known each other now?”

“Certainly fewer than three hundred.”

“I’m starting to think you can’t actually count.” 

Once we were out of the forest, I readjusted the luggage on my shoulders. Ahead of us was—to no one’s surprise—more sunset, this time shrouding a meadow. Now that I thought about it, perhaps a bike wouldn’t have been much use in this area anyway. 

“Time to find out what we’re in for, I guess.” 

Spotting some kind of pole in the distance, I started walking in that direction. Despite my fatigue, I found I rather enjoyed the sound of the grass underfoot—crunch, crunch, crunch. But it also made my ankles itch, itch, itch. For a moment, I resented Yashiro for getting a free ride. Then again, she didn’t appear to own any shoes, so I’d have felt awful making her walk through this…or was my compassion wasted on her? Not that there was anyone I could ask about that. 

“Will we find people here?” she asked.

“Not sure,” I answered, craning my neck up at the massive trees that now towered over us in place of buildings. “All I know is that I saw traces that suggested that.”

For example, the grass parted to form a path—as if this area saw regular foot traffic. And that…well, it sort of put me on guard, making me think about exactly how many people could be around here. My memories of other people had already been sepia-tinged by the time I first set out, and so I could scarcely even remember how to act around them, since I had yet to meet a single person since then.

No, Yashiro didn’t count. 

“For some reason, humans like to camp around tall things.”

“Oh?” Probably to use those things as landmarks to find their way home again, if I’d had to guess.

“I enjoy being up high, myself.”

“I bet you do, half-pint.” 

The day we met, she’d fallen out of the sky from well beyond my reach—from beyond the clouds. Looking back, I should’ve been more suspicious of her. But then she’d told me she came from far away, and that gave me the crazy idea of going on a long journey of my own. One thing had led to another, and now here we were. 

Or maybe I’d never really cared what she was. Maybe I just wanted someone to talk to under this sickly sky. Someone to keep me going. Someone to call a friend. 

“At least I am taller than you right now.” 

“I’ll make you walk, you know,” I growled.

She laughed it off, though. “Ho ho ho!” 

I should’ve known that kind of threat wouldn’t work on her. Ugh. I’m so stupid. My heart felt as squishy as her cheeks. 

“So do you have a mission here?” I finally asked, after however many years of not really thinking about it—maybe because I hadn’t stopped to contemplate my own journey’s purpose. 

“Technically, yes.” 

That was an unexpected answer from a creature who was generally useless. “Wait. You do?”

“Although I may soon achieve it.”

“Huh?” How, exactly? 

I glanced around but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Meanwhile, I heard the distant rumble of a building, then felt its collapse through the vibration under my heels. 

My footsteps slowed, and I looked up. “Hey. I don’t really know who you are, but…”

“Yes?”

“Once this mission of yours is achieved, what—”

“Oh. There is a person here.”

“What?” 

Before I could finish my question, a humanoid figure had come into view, and my voice died in my throat. Its shadow was long and thin, as if cast by the sun—surely smaller than the trees among which it was ensconced, yet to my eyes it felt so far away. While I hesitated to close that gulf, however, the figure peeled away from the sunset in my direction…accompanied by the sound of spinning tires. I instinctively stood up strict as my gaze was drawn to the—Bicycle!

“Um…” 

I immediately picked up on confusion and discomfort in her voice. For the only time in my life, the crack and crumble of the decaying town seemed to sound in sync with the pounding of my heart. 

It was a girl with dark hair. She was…quite possibly…the very person I’d been searching for all this time. 

So now what? 

My objective had only ever been to find someone. I hadn’t given a single thought to what would happen after. My mind was as yellow as the sun’s rays—not so blank as to be white, but sort of in the middle. For what felt like an eternity, I stood paralyzed, fully conscious for each agonizing moment—a metaphor, perhaps, for life in general beneath this unending sky. 

Her shoes were worn to tatters, like mine, and she smelled like dirt. If I’d had to guess, we were around the same age. Her green-tinged eyes wavered uncertainly as she looked at me. As I gazed back into them, I found myself admiring their beauty and fumbling desperately for something to say. Then I noticed the girl’s choppy, uneven hair and realized she was probably all alone, the same as me. 

“Hello there!”

Only Yashiro, cozy in my knapsack, remained utterly unperturbed in this moment. In hindsight, if I wanted to make a good first impression, I probably shouldn’t have brought her with me. I could already see the other girl’s eyes widening.

“H-hello…”

“Indeed.”

“…I, um…” 

From the way she looked at the ground, I got the sense that she’d decided to ignore Yashiro. Smart. 

“I didn’t expect to find anyone here.” 

Those words rippled through my heart. This was everything I’d ever wanted…but I said, “Yeah. I hadn’t really thought about it either.” That wasn’t much of an introduction, but at the same time, it was plenty. 

The girl smiled stiffly, which suggested she wasn’t used to it. We were reflecting our inexperience back to each other like mirrors. 

With a deep breath, she finally said: “I’m Shima. What about you?”

Her voice was as cold and bracing as ice. As for me, I hadn’t needed to offer someone my name since the day I’d met the unidentified life-form, so answering took me a moment.

“I’m…”

-------------------------

Footnotes

Chapter 2: Shima

[1]  Kase-san and Morning Glories.