Episode Three

Sharing an umbrella like this—how many years has it been?
Probably since high school. At the very least, it’s not something proper grown-ups do.
Especially not with a younger schoolgirl.
The stares from passers-by pierce like needles. Probably just me overthinking it.
Still, is there really a café around here? I’ve no clue where it might be.
　Maybe I really am being tricked. Like, a honey trap, a schoolgirl posing as an adult woman?
My suspicions melted away the moment I saw the café we were led to.

“Here we are, sis.”

“…This was a café?”

“You wouldn’t know, would you? I get it.”

The café was far too plain.
No, wait. Plain? More like inconspicuous. It didn’t feel like a shop at all. At first glance, it just looked like a slightly smart detached house.
There was no obvious sign, no blackboard or chalkboard stand. There was a small board hanging on the entrance door saying ‘Open’, but it was so small you could easily miss it. In fact, I had missed it until now.
　From the window set at the front, the light from subdued indirect lighting spilled out. Stretching my neck to peer inside, it was indeed a coffee shop.
It’s only human nature to find it difficult to enter a place like this, which seems to say “no first-time customers allowed”, especially alone.
But the girl opened the door without the slightest hesitation.
　A tinkling sound like a wind chime. I thought it was an unusual doorbell, but sure enough, a wind chime hung inside the door.
Probably eccentric. Quaint… I suppose? Now that you mention it, it does feel that way. Unfortunately, it’s already late autumn now.
The girl raised one hand in a casual manner.

“Aki-chan, I’m home!”

Not “Excuse me” or “Hello”, just “I’m home”.
　Following her in, I took a quick look around the interior.
Just as the exterior suggested, it was a cosy little café.
Three chairs at the counter table. One sofa seat. One table for two. That was it.
No other customers besides us.
But, it was fine.
It was a pleasant place. How to put it… it had a certain refinement. Yet it didn’t feel haughty or aloof.
　Subtle indirect lighting and tasteful furnishings. A ceiling fan. The tall, green Ficus umbellata in the corner.
All harmonised perfectly within the clean, crisp space.
And then—

“Welcome back, Ibara.”

Behind the counter stood a beautiful woman clad in a jet-black barista apron.
Beautiful. Undeniably beautiful.
　I gasped inwardly.
Long, dark green hair, rimless glasses. Probably a little older than me, her summer knit top clearly pushed up by ample curves visible even through the apron.
So this was the cousin she’d mentioned. Both her and the master, must be a family line carrying the genes for beauty.
The lenses of her glasses caught the light with a glint.

“And who’s that?”

“My customer.”

“Oh.”

After glancing briefly at me, the beautiful master handed me the menu, a damp towel, and a hand towel.

“Please place your order here. And the hand towel is complimentary.”

“Ah, thank you very much.”

I gratefully accepted it and used it to wipe the moisture from my hair and jacket. The service was good too. The only thing left to check was the menu…
The menu I received was long and narrow, the type that folds in half. Surprisingly, it used a rather cute rounded font, which was rather charming. No photos. That sort of style, then.
Glancing quickly through the lineup, it was surprisingly extensive for a café that wasn’t part of a chain (if I may say so).
　Particularly the decaf and caffeine-free options were plentiful, with a wide variety of herbal teas too. That’s a blessing.
They had sweets as well. Seasonal parfaits, they looked delicious. No, no, at this time and in this situation, something sweet is a bit much…
Seeing my wandering gaze, Ibara chuckled softly and said.

“Miss, you can order whatever you like. It’s on me.”

“Eh? No, no, what are you talking about? I can’t possibly let a child pay for me.”

“I’m not a child. I’m seventeen now. JK2 (2nd year high school).”

“You’re still a minor.”

“Mmm.”

The girl called “Ibara” raised one hand, still looking somewhat dissatisfied.

“You really shouldn’t worry about the money. Oh well. Aki-chan, I’ll have a herbal tea. And a parfait too.”

“Eh?”

“What?”

“N-nothing.”

Seriously? She’s having a parfait at this hour. She can get away with it. Youth is amazing.
I’m twenty-four, and this girl is seventeen. That’s a seven-year gap.
When I turned twenty, this girl had just taken off her school satchel. Wow. I feel like crying a little.

“Right, one herbal tea and one parfait. And for you, miss?”

“Ah. Er… Hot coffee… decaffeinated, please.”

Truth be told, my go-to order at unfamiliar cafés is usually a café au lait.
But with an underage girl in front of me, I put on airs, thinking it might seem a bit childish.

“Fancy something light? You must be hungry.”

Hearing that, I realised. I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. I’m not a big eater to begin with, but even I felt I should get something in my stomach. It felt a bit awkward given the flow, but…

“Right now, we’ve got the daily pasta or hot sandwiches. The hot sandwich would be ready straight away.”

“Ah, yes. That’ll be fine then.”

Hot sandwich!
My stomach gave a small gurgle.
Our eyes met. Her large eyes seemed to be smiling, so I cleared my throat.
Ahem.

“Um, you are… er—”

“Ibara.”

She introduced herself. A strange name.

“Shinomori Ibara. The name’s in hiragana.”

“…Shinomori-san.”

“I like my name, so call me by it.”

“Ibara-san.”

“Stiff. You’re older than me, so you don’t need to use ‘-san’.”

This girl has a lot of demands.

“…Alright then, Ibara.”

“Haaai, I’m Ibara! What about you, big sister?”

“Ah, Amami. Amami Shigure.”

“How do you write ‘Amami’?”

“Rain and sea, Amami.”

“Wow, you’re totally a rain girl.”

　The words stabbed like a knife.
This high schooler, picking up on things people are self-conscious about…

“So, Ibara. What did you mean before?”

“Before?”

“Well… um. Like, wanting me to sleep with you, or go to a hotel…”

I lowered my voice to a whisper.

“Do you always do this sort of thing?　Like, you don’t have anywhere to sleep at home or something?”

“Do this sort of thing?”

Her nonchalant expression was painfully obvious.
I couldn’t help but glare at her resentfully.

“Answer my question properly. You know exactly what you’re saying, don’t you?”

“I don’t. You’re the first person I’ve asked that.”

Oh, really. But that makes it even more confusing.

“Why me?”

“Because you’re my destined one.”

“Like I said earlier, what on earth does that mean?”

Ibara pointed to her right eye. More precisely, to the dark circle beneath it.

“Look at this. These dark circles, aren’t they awful? Even make-up can’t hide them completely. If I tried any more, it’d just look unnatural.”

“It’s just lack of sleep. I’ve got it too.”

“Yes, lack of sleep. I haven’t slept properly in ages.”

“Ages? Like three days?”

“About half a year.”

“Huh?”

Half a year?

“Is that… okay?”

The moment she said it, she realised how terribly stupid the question was.
Of course it wasn’t okay.
Sleep is essential for humans to lead healthy, civilised lives.

“Of course not. I’m ill. Insomnia, they call it.”

“Hospital?”

“Been to a few. But they reckon it’s psychological. Meaning, no clear cause, right?”

“I see…”

Sleep disorders aren’t particularly rare illnesses.
At my company, there are colleagues undergoing treatment. I myself once teetered dangerously close to the edge.
It’s not that I don’t feel sleepy. I feel sleepy, yet I can’t sleep. That’s the painful part.
Huh? But…

“But didn’t you just fall asleep normally on the train? On my shoulder.”

“Right!”

As if vindicated, Ibara leaned forward. Her half-open eyes flashed. Actually, her eyes are huge.

“Exactly! That was the first time I’d had a proper deep sleep in ages. Weeks, maybe? All the fog in my head cleared, and it felt absolutely wonderful.”

“Huh.”

“You see, I take that train every day. I’ve dozed off before, even leaned on people. But today was the first time I’ve ever slept that deeply.”

“You were just tired, weren’t you?”

“No. There have been plenty of days when I was more tired, or more sleepy. But that day was the only day I actually slept properly. Do you know why?”

“Do you think I know? On the contrary…”

“It’s because you were there.”

“Eh?”

“Because I was clinging to you, I was able to sleep. That’s the only explanation I can think of.”

Because I was there, she slept?
No, no, no.

“I absolutely think you’re mistaken.”

“No, I’m not. Because you smelled nice, big sister. And your body temperature was low, so touching you wasn’t stifling.”

“The smell was just cheap perfume, and my low body temperature is just poor circulation in my extremities.”

“But—”

The hand I’d left resting on the table was suddenly gripped tightly by soft fingertips.
Though small, the hand was far stronger than it looked, and I couldn’t pull away.

“None of it worked. Not the methods in the book, not the medicine you gave me, not my friend’s company, not the herbal tea, not the lavender scent, not Mozart’s piano, not the ambient sounds. Only you, big sister. You were the one who put me to sleep.”

A soft cough sounded.