#65: Walk Around
“You’re really planning to leave Aoi-chan there…?”
In response to Rinko’s question, Kotone put an index finger to her lips in a gesture for silence.
The underground car park of the Roppongi television station. Inside Kotone’s beloved SUV.
The M Station recording had gone off without a hitch. There had even been talk of a modest wrap party, taking the current circumstances into consideration. But Hifumi didn’t do drinking parties, Kotone couldn’t drink because she was driving, and Rinko had been banned from the station after kicking Mibu P, the drama department producer who had tried to solicit pillow work.
The three of them had therefore fled the dressing room as though escaping the scene of a crime.
The problem was Aoi, whom they had left behind in the dressing room.
“You don’t want to live with Aoi, do you?”
“I don’t want to live with you either.”
“You’re responsible for getting me banned from the station by kicking Mibu P.”
Kotone said it with a perfectly straight face.
Even if Rinko could claim that she had acted as a manager, and as a fan, to protect Kotone, kicking a television station producer, in other words, a client, was perhaps the worst possible move she could have made.
“…Was it really that bad?”
“Mhm. Really bad.”
All the colour drained from Rinko’s face.
Then, a moment later, Kotone stole her lips.
The deep crimson of her lipstick brushed against Rinko’s mouth.
“If you do something like that, I’ll fall for you all over again. Thanks, Rinko.”
Kotone gave her a bashful smile, then immediately turned to face forward. She pressed the ignition button, bringing the engine to life.
A low growl and a faint vibration filled the cabin.
The trembling in Rinko’s body, the quiet quickening of her heartbeat… surely they were caused by the SUV’s vibrations.
Definitely not by Kotone’s expression of gratitude.
Rinko decided to believe that, and clicked her seatbelt into place.
“Right, that’s one job done. Let’s head home!”
“…What about that girl?”
“She’ll be fine. She’s got money now.”
Kotone spat the words towards Hifumi in the back seat with profound irritation.
Her cousin, Kurosu Aoi, might have seemed like an innocent, free-spirited country girl, but she was a surprisingly shrewd woman.
Aoi had initially been reluctant to accept the ¥150,000 Rinko had taken from Kotone’s wallet.
But by the time Rinko returned to the dressing room after kicking Mibu P, the cash had vanished.
Then, somehow, Aoi had made her way into Hifumi’s dressing room, where she had tearfully begged, “I don’t have any money,” and extracted another ¥100,000.
Eventually Rinko herself had been begged into lending her the ¥30,000 she had left to her name.
She doubted she would ever see it again.
A remarkably polished technique.
Aoi had the makings of a con artist.
“Sorry, Rinko-chan. I’ll reimburse you for what you lent Aoi.”
“Please do. …Ah, wait.”
Talking about money reminded Rinko of today’s date.
Coincidentally, it was the twenty-seventh, payday at Meiji Stationery.
“When do I get paid as a manager? Actually, I’ve only signed an NDA with the agency. What about an employment contract?”
“That sounds like such a pain. Ask my tax accountant later.”
“Why your tax accountant…?”
As she spoke, Rinko, whose background in administration and accounting made her unusually good at this sort of thing, realised something.
Kotone belonged to a talent agency, but she was not employed by it.
She had a management contract with the agency as a sole proprietor.
Which meant Rinko’s employer wasn’t the agency.
It was the person who had accepted the fourth of Rinko’s five conditions, including all those absurdly generous employment benefits.
Kotone.
“…Unbelievable. You want to monopolise me at home and at work…”
“I told you, didn’t I? I can only manage childish romances. Eventually, I’m going to have you become my blue-form dedicated family employee.”
“Stop proposing to me in ways nobody can understand.”
“Ahaha. You really know your stuff for a former accounts clerk. I’ll give you a raise if you handle my taxes too.”
“No.”
Filing a tax return on an annual income of ¥300 million would be an instant scandal if she made even the slightest mistake.
Rinko absolutely did not want that responsibility.
She turned her gaze away from Kotone and looked through the window as the SUV crawled through the underground car park.
She wouldn’t be coming here again for quite some time.
The SUV left the television station in Roppongi.
Neither Rinko, nor Hifumi, lost in her own world behind her headphones, nor even Kotone at the wheel noticed the taxi following them.
＊
The same day. Kyōdō, Setagaya.
Mikoto had been waiting by the phone, praying that the person on the other end would have good news.
Instead, they gave her a polite “we pray for your continued success”.
Her shoulders slumped.
“Oh dear. Another prayer, was it?”
“That makes three companies… Luck has abandoned me…”
“At this rate, you’ve been prayed over so much you’ll turn into a goddess.”
Shandy giggled as she stroked Mikoto’s head.
Mikoto buried her face in the sofa.
While Rinko had accidentally managed to land herself a job, Mikoto’s own job hunt had run aground.
And no wonder.
Every company Mikoto applied to was a small or medium-sized business roughly comparable to Meiji Stationery. On top of that, she kept applying for positions in fields such as sales and administration, completely disregarding the experience she had accumulated over the years, only to be rejected at interview after interview.
“‘No experience necessary’ is such a load of rubbish…”
“Why are you so determined to find something you have no experience in?”
“That’s because…”
Mikoto began to answer, then remembered that she had declared she would not consult Shandy about her job search.
She fell silent.
The reason Mikoto was deliberately avoiding planning and PR positions and targeting fields where she had no experience was simple.
She had no track record to back herself up.
During her five years at Meiji Stationery, she had never done anything that could properly be called PR. And even when she had tried, her efforts had amounted to little more than a string of unlucky failures.
The success of the planning project had merely been good fortune.
A miracle that had happened by chance.
“…I’m not suited to planning or PR, so there’s no point.”
“You came up with a product that was worth stealing.”
“That was just luck.”
“I believe luck is a skill in its own right. Hehe.”
Mikoto listened to Shandy’s laughter.
It was bright and playful, yet somehow troubled at the same time. She could never quite tell which.
The moment Shandy called this situation a Moratorium Game, her true intentions became impossible to read.
Not that Mikoto could claim to understand Shandy perfectly even at the best of times.
Perhaps Shandy wanted Mikoto to become a housewife.
But Mikoto couldn’t allow herself to depend on her like that.
Precisely because she loved Shandy, she wanted them to be equals.
She wanted to be someone who could stand beside her.
And besides, she had already gone and promised to hold a spectacular wedding, stretching herself beyond her means.
There was no backing out now.
Mikoto abruptly lifted her head from the sofa.
“…If I fail, I’ll just try the next one. That’s all!”
“That’s right. Good girl.”
Shandy merely smiled, her eyes sparkling.
As promised, she did not interfere with Mikoto’s job search.
That consideration made Mikoto both happy and sad.
“Well then. Shall we have a little game?”
“Hmm…”
Shandy’s amber eyes were a waxing crescent.
Just as she had in antiqua, where they had nurtured their love together, Shandy smiled and leaned against Mikoto.
Her sweet warmth seeped into the wounds left in Mikoto’s battered heart by yet another rejection.
“…What are you planning, Shandy-san?”
“Today’s game shall take place outdoors.”
It was three in the afternoon.
The sun was still high.
Although they were right in the middle of the stay-at-home period.
“Shouldn’t we refrain from unnecessary and non-urgent games?”
“For you, Mikoto-san, this is an urgent walking game. Hehe.”
In the end, Mikoto didn’t even have the will to resist Shandy.
Reluctantly, she found herself getting ready to go outside.
＊
“It’s very quiet.”
“It is.”
Shandy had brought Mikoto out for a little stroll around their apartment in Kyōdō.
They simply walked through the deserted streets wearing masks and holding hands.
Mikoto had absolutely no idea what the game was supposed to be.
“So, what exactly are we doing for today’s game?”
“Well. To be honest, I haven’t quite decided yet. I was wondering what sort of thing might entertain you.”
As she walked beside Mikoto, Shandy looked around in every direction as though searching for inspiration.
No doubt she was hunting for some way to embarrass Mikoto.
Mikoto found Shandy’s determination not to let even a pandemic stop her games so amusing that she laughed.
“Then could you entertain me with a game, Shandy-san? I’m so miserable from being buried in rejections.”
“That is precisely what I intend to do. Ah, then let’s start with this.”
“A vending machine?”
Shandy stopped in front of a vending machine on the roadside.
At first glance, it was an entirely ordinary drinks machine.
The selection consisted mostly of obscure brands that Mikoto rarely saw advertised, in supermarkets or convenience stores.
“This is no ordinary vending machine. This little one is a cheat.”
“A cheat?”
With a sulky expression, Shandy took a ¥100 coin from her purse and pressed the button for Ume Cider.
Immediately afterwards, she pointed to the seven-segment display showing the amount inserted.
The four digits lined up one after another.
7
7
7
It was one of those vending machines with a jackpot function.
Shandy stared intently at the display.
Then she pursed her lips.
“It really is a cheat.”
The final digit of the four changed to an 8.
“I can never get it to line up, no matter how many times I try. I’ve bought Ume Cider here at least a hundred times, you know? Don’t you think it should have happened by now, statistically speaking?”
“Ah…”
Shandy’s reason for sulking was ridiculously childish.
Mikoto inserted a ¥100 coin herself and pressed the button for unsweetened black coffee.
The display roulette did exactly what it had done before.
Three 7s.
Then an 8.
“Boo. Cheating vending machine.”
“They can actually be configured so they never hit. If they’ve set the probability to zero, you could try a thousand times and it wouldn’t make any difference.”
“Is that even legal?”
“As proof, it doesn’t say ‘jackpot’ anywhere.”
Mikoto took a step back and looked at the vending machine.
Normally, machines of this type had a plastic sign or a sticker beneath the four-digit display announcing the jackpot feature.
But as Mikoto had pointed out, there was no mention of one anywhere.
Besides, expecting a jackpot from a discount ¥100 vending machine was perhaps asking a bit much.
“Then shouldn’t they get rid of the roulette function too?”
“Perhaps it’s just mischief. It lets them catch suckers like Shandy-san.”
“They’re getting cocky just because they stock rare products you can only buy here. Naughty thing.”
Shandy flicked the machine lightly on the forehead.
Tap.
She popped open the can.
The hiss of escaping carbonation echoed through the deserted back street.
She gulped the drink down with almost the vigour of someone drowning their sorrows in alcohol, then exhaled.
“Would you like some, Mikoto? We could share indirectly.”
“I’m not embarrassed by an indirect kiss anymore.”
“Quite.”
The Ume Cider Shandy handed her tasted exactly as one might expect.
Sweet, syrupy ume with gentle carbonation, a non-alcoholic cocktail.
It was the sort of flavour one would probably grow tired of if consumed frequently, but occasionally crave with inexplicable intensity.
Holding the can they had bought, the two resumed their stroll through Kyōdō.
Before long, they reached the supermarket where they normally did their shopping.
“Shall we make dinner-shopping part of the game? It might be time for the evening discounts.”
“That sounds fun too, but what I’m after is over there.”
After the cheating vending machine, Shandy pointed towards something else.
A row of capsule toy machines near the supermarket entrance.
There were about six machines arranged in two rows.
Shandy studied them with intense concentration before quietly saying,
“I’ll take this one.”
“Is there something you want?”
“No, not particularly. I’m just going with the flow.”
Shandy crouched down.
The machine she had chosen displayed a photograph of colourful slime in little plastic cups.
Mikoto vaguely wondered how long it had been since she had last seen slime.
“Wow, slime! That brings back memories. It must have been when Kotone was about kindergarten age. She used to cry all the time saying, ‘I want the red slime, but it never comes out!’”
“A story I find impossible to imagine nowadays.”
“Really. She used to be cute.”
“Hehe. What touching sisterly affection.”
Shandy took another ¥100 coin from her purse and turned the handle of the capsule machine.
It made a somewhat smaller noise than the vending machine, and a capsule rolled into the collection tray.
A beautiful spherical pink capsule.
Inside was a plastic cup of red slime.
“I was the sort of child who liked the capsules more than what came inside them.”
Apparently uninterested in the slime itself, Shandy slipped the cup into the pocket of her palazzo trousers and gazed nostalgically at the capsule.
It was unusual for her to talk about her own past.
Mikoto crouched beside her, their shoulders touching, and asked:
“Why?”
“Aren’t they beautiful? So round. And while you get bored of the toy inside after playing with it a few times, the capsule is different. Put something else inside and you can enjoy it all over again.”
“Come to think of it, I might have put hair ties in mine.”
“Yes. But I learned a great deal from capsules.”
Clutching the empty capsule, Shandy continued.
“Mikoto, a question. If you had to choose between an empty capsule and a capsule containing a jewel, which would you choose?”
“Wouldn’t most people choose the jewel? I’m not particularly interested in jewellery, though.”
“Then how would you choose the one containing the jewel? Suppose, like this capsule, you couldn’t know what was inside unless you opened it?”
Shandy inserted another ¥100 coin and turned the slime machine’s handle again.
Now she held two identical capsules in her hands.
The contents of the pink capsules could not be seen.
“You could weigh them, or shake them and see if you could hear something?”
“And if you couldn’t do that?”
“Then…”
Mikoto could think of several other ways to inspect the contents without touching them.
Non-destructive testing.
Sound waves, infrared, X-rays like those used in medical examinations… there were countless possibilities.
But none of them seemed to be what Shandy was getting at.
“…I’d guess. I’d just have to choose one while praying that I’d picked the right one.”
“Precisely. In other words, you’re testing your luck.”
Shandy smiled brightly.
She moved both capsules behind her back.
Then she brought them forward before Mikoto.
One pink sphere in each hand.
This was a game of two choices.
“Ahaha. If I guess the winning capsule, I win?”
“Hehe. Do you think you can?”
There was no difference between the capsules on the right and left.
Since she could neither weigh nor examine them, it was exactly as Shandy had said.
A test of luck.
Mikoto thought for a moment, then took the capsule in Shandy’s right hand.
She knew the result immediately.
It was light.
A loser.
“It was a dud.”
“Hehe. Unfortunately, they were both duds.”
Shandy opened the capsule Mikoto had not chosen and laughed.
She had probably opened it and removed the contents the moment she had moved her hands behind her back, out of Mikoto’s sight.
“That’s cheating… This isn’t the vending machine…”
“It’s just mischief. You’re such an easy mark, Mikoto.”
Shandy’s amber eyes were a waxing crescent.
Apparently delighted by Mikoto’s reaction, she put the empty capsule into the bag she was carrying and resumed their walk.
Shandy’s true intentions remained as mysterious as ever.
And yet, walking hand in hand through the deserted streets of Kyōdō, Mikoto found that she no longer cared quite so much.
It was simply pleasant.
The nervous feeling of being tested and the strangely peaceful feeling of walking beside Shandy together kept Mikoto’s thoughts moving forward.
After wandering around Kyōdō for a while longer, Shandy stopped in front of a torii.
“Mikoto, are you the sort of person who believes in gods?”
“Only when I’m in trouble.”
“Then there’s no problem. You’re in trouble right now.”
Together they passed beneath the torii and placed ¥100 coins in the offering box.
Shandy carefully observed the proper sequence of two bows, two claps and one bow.
Perhaps she believed in doing as the locals did when entering their country.
Out of the corner of her eye, Mikoto saw how strange Shandy’s blonde hair and porcelain skin looked within the shrine grounds.
And yet, the thought that she could stand beside this beautiful, kind woman, and pray that they would be happy together forever, warmed Mikoto’s heart.
“Hehe. Shall I guess what you prayed for?”
“Wouldn’t it be obvious?”
“Yes. Have I been able to make you happy, Mikoto?”
It was around the time the sunlight was beginning to turn towards evening.
In the reddish light, it was impossible to read Shandy’s expression properly.
Of course, the same was true of Mikoto.
Realising that they had apparently prayed for something very similar, Mikoto felt the blood slowly rush into her face.
“You don’t need to pray for that.”
“…I love you, Mikoto.”
Sometimes Shandy dropped the polite form of speech.
Whether she did it deliberately or simply let it slip naturally was impossible to tell.
Whether this gap was another of Shandy’s carefully calculated tricks remained a mystery.
But it was more than enough to make Mikoto blush crimson in an instant.
“You’re just too cute. Honestly…”
“I’ve been reduced to this much helplessness by you. You’ll have to take responsibility.”
“…Oh, I certainly intend to!”
“You’re redder than the sunset.”
Even stretching herself taller to hide her face was useless.
Unable to bear it any longer, Mikoto turned her gaze away from Shandy and stared at the sun sinking towards the western horizon.
They had met on that unlucky winter day, and their first spring was already drawing to a close.
Only three months had passed, yet every day had been so rich and intense.
Her luck was gradually turning upwards.
She hoped that this good fortune would continue through summer, autumn, a second winter, and beyond.
“Mikoto. That’s the finale for today.”
The final thing Shandy pointed towards was an unattended fortune-slip box.
First the cheating vending machine.
Then the capsule toys.
And finally, fortune-telling.
Shandy had certainly been eager to test their luck today.
Even Mikoto finally understood the true meaning behind what Shandy called their walking game.
“Before that. Can I bring the walking game to a conclusion?”
“Oh? And what do you mean by that?”
“Knowing you, Shandy-san, you were testing whether I’d figure out why we were walking around, weren’t you? You were giving me all sorts of hints, too.”
For a moment, Shandy’s eyes widened in surprise.
Mikoto was pleased to have caught her off guard.
But now, determined to give Shandy the satisfaction she deserved, she steeled herself to get the answer right.
“Then, by all means. What is your answer, Mikoto?”
“…Today’s keyword is luck. You wanted to tell me not to obsess over something like luck, something I have no control over, didn’t you?”
“And what did I intend to accomplish by telling you that?”
“You wanted to encourage me, didn’t you? I’ve been so unlucky lately.”
“Who knows?”
“You’re dodging the question because you’re embarrassed I figured it out?”
“No. The walking game was simply a walking game.”
That same roundabout expression of affection.
And the same refusal to admit it.
Shandy turned her face away with an exaggerated little I don’t know anything expression, and Mikoto couldn’t help laughing.
“Then that’s fine. It was a good change of pace.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
Shandy continued to play it completely straight, delivering her words in a deliberately flat voice to conceal her embarrassment.
She put another ¥100 coin into the fortune-slip box and reached inside.
Mikoto took one as well.
The two of them unfolded their little scroll-like fortunes.
The results were…
“No, seriously? Great Blessing… If it says my work luck is excellent, then give me a job offer, God…”
“I got a Small Blessing. That makes this rather difficult to comment on. Although the part about ‘the awaited person will come’ has certainly come true.”
In the end, the two of them tied their fortune slips to the designated rack and left the shrine.
With the setting sun behind them, they walked side by side towards home.
From a speaker in a nearby park came an announcement telling the children that it was time to go home.
Mikoto sighed softly.
“But… nothing happened today either. It was another day where absolutely nothing moved forward…”
“An ordinary day can someday become an irreplaceable special memory.”
“There it is. Another one of Shandy-san’s famous sayings.”
“I borrowed it from someone else. They aren’t my words.”
Shandy squeezed Mikoto’s hand tightly.
“I want to make irreplaceable memories with you every day from now on. That was what I prayed to God for. Was that a little greedy?”
Mikoto squeezed her joined hand in return.
“Even if God doesn’t grant it, I’ll keep making it come true for you.”
“How reassuring. Especially for someone who’ll soon be unemployed.”
“Don’t say that…”
“Hehe.”
—Today’s Love Game: Mikoto wins.