Sleeping Beauty and the Queen’s Attendant.
It was a morning like any other.
The pale morning light streamed through the gap in the blackout curtains that wouldn’t close properly, illuminating Shigure-san’s sleeping face.
On mornings like this, I’d wake first, get myself ready, then prepare breakfast. I’m no great cook, but I’d improved a bit since six months ago – specifically, I could make French toast now. That’s a great step forward, right?
I dipped the bread, cut into four pieces, into the whisked egg and milk mixture, then melted butter in the frying pan. A sweet, toasty aroma filled the air.
Personally, I prefer my French toast lightly soaked rather than thoroughly drenched. Lightly soaked? Well, I can’t think of another way to describe it.
“Morning… something smells lovely…”
Just as the egg mixture was getting nicely browned, Shigure-san woke up.
“It’s French toast.”
“Mm, thanks.”
Until recently, Shigure-san would say “Sorry” whenever I cooked, but lately she’s more likely to offer thanks instead of apologies. I prefer that too, and it makes me happy.
I arranged convenience store cut vegetables and cherry tomatoes on a plate, placed the golden French toast on top, and added ham. A drizzle of maple syrup.
Mmm, I must say, I’m rather pleased with how perfectly it’s cooked.
Shigure-san, now fully awake, brewed some herbal tea for me. A perfect breakfast. But will she make it to work on time?
“Shigure-san, you’re taking it easier than usual today. Are you alright?”
“I don’t start until this afternoon.”
I see.
“How nice. Adults get to be so flexible.”
“In exchange, we don’t get summer holidays or winter holidays.”
“Summer holidays, eh?”
What a lovely sound.
Last summer, I was caught up in the commotion of graduating from ‘Charles’. My health was at its worst then too – holidays were the last thing on my mind.
“What did you do last summer, Shigure-san?”
“What do you mean? Just worked as usual.”
“Not that. Did you go anywhere? To the sea or the mountains?”
“Not particularly. Or rather, summers have been far too hot lately.”
“Ah. But I really want to go to the sea or something.”
“But you only went recently?”
“It was before the official opening.”
“Isn’t it difficult to hide your face?”
“Hmm. I reckon everyone’s forgotten by now.”
“I wonder.”
Shigure-san blew on her hot herbal tea and suddenly softened her gaze.
“I reckon those who remember will always remember.”
“Hmm…”
I wonder how it really is.
“Come to think of it, it wasn’t much of a trip, but did you go back home for Obon?”
“Hmm. What are Shigure-san’s parents like?”
“You’ve said that before. Are you interested in that?”
“I am.”
Shigure-san always smells like the gentle scent after the rain.
I sometimes wonder what kind of house, what kind of town she grew up in.
That’s why I want to check my guesses.
Shigure-san’s home. Shigure-san’s parents.
They must be completely different from those people, surely.
After finishing my meal, I carried the dishes to the sink. I drained the last of my rose-scented herbal tea and set the mug on the table.
I checked the clock. Blimey. Less time than I thought.
“Off I go.”
“Right, have a good day.”
I’d slept fairly well today, so my legs felt light as if I’d grown wings.
But that’s usually when you don’t see where you’re going and end up falling over.
I knew that.
†
Truth be told, I’d had a bad feeling about this for ages.
I knew full well that the email from that person wouldn’t be anything half-hearted like a “request” or “advice”.
It was an “order”. Their emails always are.
But still. Even so.
“Unbelievable. It’s the Reiwa era, for goodness’ sake.”
The sheer audacity of pulling up on the school route in a jet-black Mercedes made me want to clutch my head in despair.
The driver’s door swung open, polished to a mirror-like shine that bordered on the obnoxious. A woman in her thirties emerged.
I did, at least, remember her face and name.
“What brings you here, Natori-san?”
“It’s been a while, Ibara-san.”
Natori-san, in her grey trouser suit, was as inscrutable as ever.
I suppose this is what they call having a face like a brick wall.
“You’ve grown a bit taller, haven’t you?”
“Stop saying that. What’s the matter? Is being a secretary such an idle job? Maybe I’ll aim to be one after I graduate university.”
“I’m actually quite busy with all sorts of things, you know.”
“Well then, go home early.”
“I am going home. With you, Ibara-san.”
Ugh, I thought.
I recoil. I genuinely recoil. I’m completely repulsed. This is an absolute nightmare.
What’s worst is that this brazen kidnapper is that person’s, my mother’s, personal secretary.
I pulled the zip on my school bag and shoved my wrist inside.
“Listen, Natori-san. You think I’ll just quietly do as I’m told?”
“And what do you mean?”
“Ear-splitting personal alarm or super-hot pepper spray? Which would you prefer?”
“Your high level of security awareness is admirable. A testament to your upbringing, I suppose.”
“Right. Both then.”
“Amami Shigure.”
Still with my hand in the bag, I froze.
Feeling my heart pounding like it was someone else’s, I glared at Natori-san’s iron mask of a face.
“Amami Shigure-san, is that her name? I hear you two went travelling together recently. Nagaoka is rather old-fashioned, but well, I understand wanting to avoid overly crowded places.”
“What are you on about?”
My voice cracked.
It wasn’t why this person knew such things.
It was why she brought it up now.
“She works in graphic design. She handled the bottle packaging for the Haibara Hiname project. Her employer is Forma Design, correct? Small firm, but they have a reputation for producing quality work.”
“…That’s none of your business, Natori-san.”
“In this industry, there isn’t a single company unrelated to ours.”
Somehow, my throat had gone completely dry.
“It’s hardly that grand, is it? I read online there’s been all sorts of internal friction.”
“The adult world has its complexities. That’s why we need you back.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’ll explain that shortly. For now, would you please get in?”
“No.”
“It might cause trouble for others. For Amami-san and Haibara-san too.”
Blood rushed to my head.
Raging fury, like molten iron, bubbled up inside me.
I clenched my teeth at the last moment, stopping myself from shouting abuse.
No. Drawing attention is bad.
Even if I doused Natori-san’s face with capsaicin, it wouldn’t solve anything. If I drew unwanted attention and ended up in the news, it might cause trouble for Hiname or Motomura-san.
Taking a deep breath, I glared at Natori-san one last time before saying.
“…I’m only listening. That’s all.”
“Of course. For now, that is my job.”
And so, I got into Natori-san’s Mercedes. What truly awful taste.