Adachi to Shimamura - Volume SS1 - Chapter 8

Number One!

JUST WHEN I WAS wondering whether Adachi had forgotten our annual New Year’s phone call, I heard the doorbell ring, and there she was. Mere hours into the new year, her cheeks were already faintly flushed—like it was any other day.

“Hey,” I greeted her through a yawn.

“H-hey,” she parroted stiffly. 

“Happy New Year.”

“You too,” she replied quickly. Then, once she’d stepped out of her shoes, she looked up nervously. “Oh. Uh, am I early?”

I must’ve looked tired. “I was thinking you were late.”

“What?” 

“Well, I was kind of expecting you to call me.” Because of that, I’d stayed up a bit later than usual the night before. But I left that part out.

Her eyes widened. “Oh…I’m sorry.” Yet her barely suppressed smile conveyed anything but guilt. 

I considered cracking a joke about that, but resisted the temptation, lest she take it at face value. “Nah. You don’t need to apologize.”

“Sh-should I call you right now?”

“Oh, Adachi, I love the way your mind works.” She took my feelings seriously, made an effort to understand them, and looked for a way to set things right instead of simply shrugging them off. That was one of her loveliest qualities, in my opinion—and not just because I stood to benefit. “Well, I hate to drop this on you just after you got here, but…um…my family’s driving out to the countryside this afternoon.”

“Oh, right…” Her face fell; I could almost see puppy ears drooping. “We can hang out until lunch, though, right?”

“Yeah.” 

She didn’t seem to associate the winter holidays with family, probably because she didn’t have much of one. If she had grandparents, I had yet to hear about them—or any other family members, for that matter. Then I realized there was something else I didn’t know about her. “Did you want us to spend the holiday together?”

“Yeah, but more than that, I just…wanted to be number one.”

“What?”

“I wanted to be the first person to wish you a Happy New Year…and, um, vice versa.” 

“Ah.” 

It was such an Adachi thing to say. But technically, the little alien had been the first to greet me this morning. Through a mouthful of New Year’s mochi, no less. Now she was napping under the kotatsu table with my sister.

“Well…I guess she doesn’t count,” I reflected.

Yashiro was exceptional in every sense of the word, but when she greeted me, she’d seemed most concerned about whether to eat her mochi with red-bean jam. 

“Oh, Adachi-chan’s here!” My mom must’ve heard us from the kitchen; she strode down the hall. “Happy New Year! Y’know, you could’ve brought your mother with you,” she continued before Adachi could so much as say “hello.”

“I…er…Happy New Year?” This was a massive curveball for a girl who was already socially inept in general, and Adachi’s trepidation was palpable. 

“She’s flustered! I win!” my mom cheered. 

I wasn’t enjoying this, so I attempted to make a quick exit. “Let’s just go, Adachi.” 

“Hougetsu,” my mom said, “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you, but after lunch—”

“Yes, yes, I know, thank you!” 

Brushing her off, I headed upstairs. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Adachi wave goodbye to her behind me. In the study room, we turned on the heated kotatsu and sat down under the blanket.

“Well, now what?” 

I must’ve asked her that question a thousand times since the day we met. The outcome was inevitable: sitting together mostly in silence, like always. 

“When you say countryside, do you mean, like…to your relatives’ house?” Adachi asked, avoiding eye contact.

“Yeah, exactly. I’ve got a handsome boy waiting for me out there.”

I envisioned my grandparents’ house, complete with the shrinking form of my dear old friend. With every reunion, I was forced to confront the possibility that it would be the last, and I never wanted to waste a second of it. 

The shock on Adachi’s face caught me entirely off guard, though. She leaned across the table, her expression deathly serious. “Wh…who are you talking about?”

I blinked. “Who else, silly?” 

Then it hit me why she seemed so startled, and I burst out laughing. Gon was a subject I’d never really broached with Adachi—or anyone else, for that matter. Would she get those ominous, complicated feelings out of me someday? Only time would tell.

“Wh-what’s so funny?!”

“How should I describe him…? Well, for a start, he’s more doglike than you. But only a little.” Even Adachi couldn’t beat the real thing…right? Surely not.

“I’m not doglike!”

“Right. Of course not. Because you are a dog.”

“Wha… No! My point is, no two-timing allowed!”

“I’m not two-timing.”

“Then what’s going on with you and him?!”

“It’s…a long story.” 

She made it sound like I was actually cheating on her, which was kind of funny, but also kind of annoying. I stared blankly at her steadfast expression across the table, contemplating how best to explain this.

Being number one in any category was challenging, whether you were the world’s fastest runner or just the smartest kid in your class. Not to brag, but…from Adachi’s perspective, I was probably her number one…well, insert noun here. Plenty of words fit, and lots of feelings along with them. As long as I was with her, I was always the world’s greatest something-or-other, which was…

“Pretty great, huh?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

“What?” Her eyes widened in surprise. 

My gut reaction was to change the subject by saying “It’s nothing,” but then I had a better idea. “What we have. It’s grade A, right?” 

“What we have?” she repeated, confused by my cryptic wording.

“Graaade A!” I added in a singsong voice.

“Like…a steak?”

I was evidently only confusing her more. She squinted down into the empty space between us, murmuring to herself as she made every effort to solve this riddle. 

Meanwhile, I sat back and savored the Grade-A “steak.”