It’s too quiet then, and there’s almost nothing to break the monotony.
I’d prefer it to be summer, ripe with boundless change. But I wonder…
With a little bit of hope and a large helping of anxiety, I wobbled to my feet and moved my legs toward the cavern exit.
CHILDREN RECORD III
Ayano swiveled her head around, looking out for unwelcome ears, then spoke in a whisper:
“…That teacher has to be a space alien or something. I have, like, no idea what he’s going on about.”
It was a clear, sunny day outside.
It was also the dead of summer, with all the stereotypical traits involved—the searing heat, the constant whine of cicadas.
Ayano, sitting loosely on her window-side seat in the far rear of the classroom, turned to me, gauging my response.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah.”
I blurted it out, dreading the rant that was all but guaranteed to follow. Ayano shrugged and put her head on the desk.
“Aww. Why you gotta be so distant like that, Shintaro?”
“Well, ’cause you’re talking a bunch of BS again. Like, what do you mean, alien? It’s not my fault if you don’t understand the lecture.”
“No, but…”
Flipping through the textbook revealed nothing particularly tricky or difficult.
It’s just that she’s slow, is all. The only “aliens” around here are people like her who can’t breeze through this class like any normal person.
“The dumber you are, the more you pin the blame on other people, huh? I mean, you failed the last test, too, didn’t you? You’re probably on a one-way path to remedial classes if you keep that up. Besides, why are you—”
Normally she’d interrupt at this point to say, “Sorry, you’re right. I’m stupid. Give me a break.” Today she was being obstinate.
As I thought about this, I looked over to find Ayano sitting back up in her seat, eyes focused squarely upon me.
Considering her usual easygoing disposition, it was rare. I winced under her withering gaze.
“Wh-what? Did I hurt your feelings?”
Ayano declined to answer the question.
“You know, Shintaro, you say that stuff to me and all, but you know I know, right? About how you skip out on studying because you’re such a geeeenius and just browse porn on the Internet all day. I saw you doing it yesterday, even.”
My heart leaped out of my stomach at this unexpected (and, I should add, excessively high-volume) salvo.
My brain began processing the facts at the speed of light. How does she know about that? She couldn’t. I’ve never invited her into my room, and besides, I always erase my browsing history. Unless she has a surveillance camera or something…
One wonders how the brain can suddenly shift into turbo mode at times like these.
Chugging away faster than it ever did before, my mind bravely attempted to concoct a superior excuse I could give her.
Following orders from my head, my throat immediately set out to utter the explanation I had queued up. This oughta do it. It’ll be perfect!
“Wh-whaa?! What…what kind of crap is that? I’m not—like—I never look at that junk! I don’t care about porn or anything! I’ve never watched a porno in my whole life!”
The excuse I prepared never quite saw the light of day. Instead, an extremely implausible one emanated from my lips.
Even I could tell how much of a flaming lie it was. An uncomfortable sweat began to prevail over my body, accelerated by the “Oh, really?” Ayano greeted my defense with.
The next moment, Ayano’s chair scraped loudly against the floor as she shot to her feet, her scorning eyes still upon me.
Moving into a half crouch, she brought her face mere inches away from mine.
“What a pack of lies. I heard about everything.”
Her long hair, thanks in part to its distance from me, smelled a little too strongly like one brand of shampoo or another.
My brain, a helpless victim of this odor barrage, briskly switched to nonoperative status.
But, really, there’s no way she could’ve known about that. My history can’t be on there. I’d never make a careless error like that. That much, at least, I was supremely confident about.
“Y-you heard it from who?! Stop getting so close to me!”
I shouted it out in self-defense, but thanks to her point-blank range, I could neither speak very loudly nor look her in the eyes.
“From who…?”
Ayano smirked at me, then brought her lips closer to one of my ears.
The intense shampoo smell descended upon me, freezing me solid to my seat.
This was bad. I had absolutely no clue what she was trying to do. All I could do was shut my eyes tightly, otherwise totally defenseless.
The sense of urgency was finally broken by Ayano’s voice wafting its way into my ear.
“…Did you forget about me, master?”
“…Dude, Ene?!”
I opened my eyes to find…no Ene. Even Ayano was gone.
The classroom I was seated in had disappeared without a trace.
In its place was a ceiling lined with pipes, naked lightbulbs hanging down from it, and Kido staring down at me as she dried her hair with a towel.
“No. Kido. Not Ene.”
Kido, sporting a T-shirt as the smell of her shampoo enveloped her, must have just gotten out of the bath. She gave me an off-put look.
“…Oh. Um, sorry.”
“I don’t know what kinda dream you were having, but it’s morning. You gotta get up.”
Kido walked toward the front door, still rubbing her hair dry.
I stared up at the ceiling. “Hey, it’s morning,” I heard Kido say, raising her voice. “Get up. Why the hell’re you sleeping there?”
That explained her sudden trip to the front door. I figured going out with wet hair and a T-shirt was a little unprepared by Kido standards.
The order, as I expected, was quickly followed by Konoha groggily muttering “Oh, um, uh? Where am I?” I saw him sleeping on the sofa last night, but couldn’t guess what position he was taking now.
It was the third morning since I first got involved with these guys.
Looking at the clock, I saw it was just about nine in the morning.
I usually slept for around fourteen hours at a time whenever I conked out, but falling back to sleep like this in someone else’s house made even someone like me feel a bit embarrassed.
I began to stir, trying to sit up, when I felt a dull pain in both of my thighs. I groaned a little in response and fell limply back on the sofa.
“Why are you moaning like that?” Kido asked suspiciously. She sounded clearly annoyed, so I pretended not to hear.
Who could blame me? All the walking I’d done yesterday and the day before was gonna take its toll on my spindly legs sooner or later.
But that was really all it took? The thought made me want to give up all hope for my life, but I tried to rally myself back to functionality.
It all reminded me of how, in comics and stuff, you see heroes get really pumped up and unleash powers beyond anything they ought to be capable of, only to pay the price in some cosmic, karmic way afterward.
Something that only happens, of course, to the hero of the story. I had a tendency to think of myself as the hero of an epic tale only I was aware of more often than I’d like to admit.
My mind filled up, as it often did, with the vast stores of anime and manga knowledge I had built up over the years. But it wasn’t enough to keep me from recalling the dream I just had.
Ayano.
She’s been in my dreams a few times before now, but her appearances were growing a lot more frequent in recent days.
Maybe it’s the heat getting to me. Or maybe it’s my mind naturally refusing to get close to anybody else.
Thinking about it, I went through largely the same process when Ene showed up.
When she was first starting to wrig
gle her way into my life, I dreamed about Ayano on practically a nightly basis.
I remember having an argument with Ene once, actually, because she forced me awake during one of those dreams.
It wasn’t one of our usual tit-for-tat squabbles, either. I went into an angry tirade, and she raised her voice at me, too, something that almost never happens.
What was I talking about with Ayano, though…? I didn’t remember very much, probably because it was the middle of the night and I was half-asleep anyway.
Either way, the next morning, feeling pretty bad about my behavior, I apologized profusely to Ene. I still clearly remember how she lorded it over me: “You’re forgiven,” she had said. “It feels kinda pointless to bully a virgin like you anyway.”
Why couldn’t I forget about that part of it all? Sometimes I truly resented the self-flagellating streak my brain had.
As I dwelt on this, I heard the sound of running water from the kitchen, followed by someone opening the refrigerator door. Breakfast must be coming soon.
“Oh, uh, sorry! Here, lemme help.”
I got up again, taking care not to overly tax the sore bits of my body. I was free of pain, so it must not have been as bad as I feared.
“Hm? Can you cook, Shintaro?”
The plates rattled in the sink as Kido washed them. I wanted to reply “well, yeah, duh,” but of course I’ve never prepared a full-on meal in my life.
Although it usually had the consistency of half-frozen cough syrup and the taste to match, at least Momo made an honest effort with her food.
The fact I was able to convince myself of that probably says all that needs to be said about my own skills.
“Huh. Well, okay. Have a seat.”
With that final glancing blow to my ego, Kido silently focused her attention back on the dishes.
The pain from being reminded of how unnecessary I was began to gradually fill my heart.
A shut-in like me is a delicate creature. They need to keep thinking that someone needs them, or else they’ll keel over.
Luckily, thanks to the man fast asleep on the floor by the front entrance, my sense of self-loathing was tempered somewhat.
In fact, nobody else was up yet, either. There wasn’t much need for me to be around, was there?
I felt a little bad about how completely dependent I was on Kido’s motherly kindness at the moment. But there’s no reason not to relax a bit more.
What’s gonna be for breakfast?
Some of the old standbys would be nice right now. Eggs, bacon, sausage, that kind of thing.
But wait. This is getting out of hand, isn’t it?
Sleeping under the same roof with a woman, then having her make breakfast for me?
Whoa whoa whoa. She’s here. She’s right here, and she’s headed my way.
……
…No. I should stop. I’d like to think it, but I can’t keep that line of thought going forever.
I have to get this aggressive streak out of my mind, or I’ll never be in any mood for breakfast.
The only people here right now are me and Kido.
If I’m going to ask it, now’s the time.
I stood up and headed for the kitchen.
Kido, standing in the kitchen, had her hair tied back and wore the same apron as yesterday. She was just about ready to heat up the frying pan.
“You got a second?”
“What?” she replied behind her back, cracking an egg into the pan with a practiced motion. “I told you to sit down.”
Part of me did want to sit down, badly. But no. Not gonna happen.
I opened my mouth, taking care not to bring up anything that’d rile her.
“Um, last night…late. I think Kano came back home. Did you notice him?”
“Kano? No, I didn’t see him at all.”
Kido began whipping the egg in the frying pan with a pair of metal chopsticks.
Scrambled eggs, huh? I continued on, even as my mind began taking a side route into the realm of food once more.
“Listen, does that…? Do you think Kano maybe, um, has something against me? Did he say anything to you like that?” I asked.
That’s what remained stuck in my craw. That late-night incident with Kano.
He showed up in the dead of night, disguised himself as Momo in an attempt to trick me, then transformed into Ayano and disappeared somewhere.
My exhaustion at the time made me wonder if it was just some weird fever dream. The thought still seemed plausible enough.
There was no way Kano knew who Ayano even was, for that matter. I never mentioned her to these guys. And if I was curled up on the floor last night, why did I wake up on the sofa? Things didn’t really add up, realistically speaking.
But even though I logically knew all of that…it was such a real dream. Nauseatingly so.
It didn’t exactly make me comfortable, asking Kido something like this, but I wanted some more convincing proof that it was just my mind playing tricks on me.
Kido’s chopsticks stopped. She turned toward me.
“Did he say something to you yesterday?”
She twisted the gas heater off behind her, then crossed her arms, chopsticks still in one hand.
Maybe she gleaned from my voice that this topic deserved her full attention. She flashed me a slightly concerned expression.
“N-no, um…Not exactly. I mean, I’m still not entirely sure it wasn’t just some super-realistic dream or something. He can’t, like, read your mind or anything, can he?”
“Nuh-uh. Nothing like that. Plus, I think Kano likes you pretty well, so…I don’t remember anything that would’ve put him off against you.”
Kido’s eyes turned downward. Now she looked a touch forlorn.
As far I could tell from her behavior, she didn’t seem to be lying.
I kind of doubted Kano enjoyed any powers his long-term roommate wouldn’t have been aware of by now. And given his usual goofy, airheaded behavior, I wouldn’t figure he had that much of a cruel streak, either.
Must’ve been just another of the many vivid dreams I’ve had lately. The thought took a heavy weight off of my shoulders.
“I mean, you know how he behaves and all by now, so…I know the act can get kind of old after a while, but he’s really a sweet guy, deep down. I hope he doesn’t get too annoying, or…”
Now Kido was clearly looking forlorn. Her eyes dipped downward again.
“Dahh! No, it’s nothing like that! Really! I guess I had a bad dream last night after running around all day, you know? I couldn’t just hate him like that. Besides, he’s taking care of my sister, too.”
This brightened Kido up. “Really? Well, great,” she said, smiling a little.
The combination of the apron, the smell from the scrambled eggs, and the smile made my chest tighten. This was one serious act of woman-ry. It would have blown away your average virgin. Better keep my guard up.
“…Yeah, so, uh, sorry to bother you. Thanks for cooking breakfast, though. I’ll clean up afterward.”
“Sure thing. I’m pretty good at this stuff, so…”
Kido went back to her cooking. The combination of her grin as she turned around, her ponytail, and her apparent talent in the kitchen was like a wave-beam attack on my mind, one strong enough to almost defeat an elite-level virgin like myself, but I managed to stand my ground.
Better head back to the sofa and wait for breakfast.
Now I’m glad I brought it up. The misgivings I endured alone were all but gone now, replaced by a rumbling, empty stomach.
Not much to do until breakfast is ready, though. Might as well keep Ene entertained for a bit.
Been a while since I was motivated to do that, I thought, as I approached the sofa. There I saw a large, white ball of fluff perched on the seat, like a particularly hefty and aggressive barnyard sheep.
It had my phone in one hand, the other fervently jabbing away at the screen.
“…Marie, what’re you doing
?”
Marie, startled, turned in my direction.
Her light pink eyes clashed against her lily-white skin and fleecy, frilly pajamas. At this range, she was finally beginning to look at least somewhat human.
Her normally bushy hair was even more disheveled than usual. She must have just risen from bed.
Whether out of friendship or because I really posed that little of a threat, Marie had already abandoned all sense of caution around me. Hopefully it’s the former.
“Shintaro…That girl with all the blue hair ’n all isn’t showing up.”
Without any further apology, she started pecking at the phone again.
“Ene? Here, lemme see.”
I took the phone from Marie and tried pushing the power button a few times. No response.
“…Oh, yeah, I haven’t recharged this since yesterday.”
Looking back, this phone had to put up with Ene’s rantings and ravings all day yesterday. She must’ve totally exhausted the battery. Poor guy.
I didn’t have anything like a recharger with me, but judging by how long it lasted yesterday, someone here must’ve charged it for me the day before that.
Maybe Momo asked someone for an adapter she could borrow or something.
“Is…she dead?”
The momentous question came from a visibly shaking Marie. I somehow doubted a dead phone would be enough to off her.
“Nah. It’ll take more than this to do her in, trust me. She’ll come back once we charge it up.”
“Charge it up?”
“Um? You know…We have to plug this into an outlet so it can get some more electricity. Otherwise, it won’t work.”
“Hohh,” Marie replied, eyes sparking. “She eats some weird stuff!”
What was with this perfect statuette of innocence and purity? —Great. My mind’s going all weird again.
Using my indomitable spirit to tame the evil thoughts bubbling from some dark enclave of my heart, I turned to Marie, successfully keeping it all bottled up.
“Marie, do you know where the adapter for this is, maybe? Kido must plug her phone in somewhere, too, right?”
Marie thought for a moment, then had a burst of inspiration.
“Ummmm…Oh! You mean that thin rope thingy?”
The Missing Children Page 3