#77: Highball
“Not that I’m doing it for your sake or anything. Well, do your best.”
“Thanks. That really helps.”
At a café around Aoto, where Shiina lived, Mikoto had just finished her interview about the ideas notebook.
The notebook had been given to her as a parting gift for the beginning of a new chapter in her life, but its contents were so chaotic and wide-ranging that Mikoto could not grasp what the ideas were really getting at. On the off chance that she might be able to make something of them, she had contacted Shiina, who had sacrificed her day off to explain everything to her in painstaking detail, albeit with a fair amount of sarcasm along the way.
There really was nothing like a former colleague you could count on.
As it turned out, about ninety per cent of the contents of the ideas notebook were unusable. But there were a few things that shone. Raw gems of ideas.
How Mikoto polished them into something worthwhile would depend entirely on her own skill as a planner.
Shiina’s back had been slightly hunched as she walked away, saying, “There. I bought Kurosu one last meal. Serves her right.”
“She’s such a pain to figure out. Is she kind or isn’t she…?”
She had declared that she would not rely on anyone else, yet here she was, relying on someone at the first opportunity. Mikoto justified it to herself with the bizarre logic that it was all right because she was not relying on Sanae, before making her way back to Kyōdō.
This was where the real battle began.
The employment front was one abnormal situation after another, but she had no choice but to push through for the sake of her future.
This really was…
“…a trial of love, isn’t it?”
She grinned at her own words, then covered her face with the business book she had been reading.
The train was practically empty in the middle of the stay-at-home period, and Mikoto found herself ever so slightly grateful to the virus for that.
＊
“Welcome home, darling. Will you have me? Or would you rather say something boring like dinner?”
Shandy was smiling with sparkling eyes, clearly intending to gauge Mikoto’s reaction by playing at being a newlywed.
Ever since antiqua had been forced to close, she had been lounging around makeup-free in nothing but a long T-shirt, letting herself completely unwind. Yet she had gone all-out getting dressed up just for this.
From now on, every time Mikoto opened the front door, she would be confronted by a question worthy of the Sphinx.
Mikoto’s back straightened of its own accord.
“First, I think I should gargle and wash my hands. I could never bear to see the woman I love suffering.”
“Then perhaps I should ask again once you have finished gargling and washing your hands. Will you choose me?”
“Oh, my. My apologies. How could I make such a lovely lady ask me for it? Whatever was I thinking?”
“Yes. Might I have those lips hidden behind your mask, please? I’m rather hungry.”
“Of course, Your Highn—”
She had switched instantly into her pretentiously gentlemanly mode, and that was why she failed to notice the figure peeking out from the shadows of the corridor.
“Heehee. What comes next?”
“That’s so cool! Miko-Nee looks just like a prince! Hurry up, I wanna hear the rest!”
Before she could gargle or wash her hands, Mikoto was already crouched down on the entrance step.
“So you told her after all? We said we were going to keep it secret in front of Aoi-chan…!”
Having been caught by her own family at her most embarrassing, and having discovered that Shandy had broken their agreement and told Aoi everything, Mikoto glared at the sushi platter they had ordered for dinner.
To prevent a fight over the food, the three salmon-roe gunkan had been arranged in equal portions. Shandy had promptly polished off all three of Mikoto’s share herself, and was now laughing with a beer in one hand.
“I thought it was only a matter of time. Besides, people don’t trust those who keep secrets, do they?”
“That argument has suddenly become a lot more convincing…”
“So why didn’t ya just tell me? If I’d known, I could’ve stayed at Koto-Nee’s place.”
“Aoi-chan was worried she might be intruding. Isn’t she adorable?”
“Because I was! Intruders get kicked away by a horse!”
“Aoi-chan, we also have some sakura horse-meat sushi. I’ll give you that as an apology for eating the Ōtoro.”
“Yay! …Wait, you can eat sakura?”
Mikoto suspected Shandy had merely found a polite way of forcing a food she disliked onto someone else, but she swallowed the thought.
Aoi’s worries were understandable.
Even though they had explained that this was a shared house, Shandy had been constantly looking at Mikoto. They had to keep their relationship secret, but they also wanted to look at each other, and whenever their eyes met, a sweet-and-sour atmosphere that seemed to squeeze Mikoto’s chest would fill the room.
About five times a day.
At this point, anyone who didn’t notice would have been the strange one.
Whether Shandy simply lacked the patience to keep it hidden, or had decided that bringing it into the open would make life easier, it was probably both.
“Now we can finally flirt as much as we like, out in the open.”
“That’s terrible for Aoi-chan’s education.”
“Don’t treat me like a kid. I’m an adult now.”
“Then I suppose we’ll have to teach you about adult pleasures. Properly hands-on.”
Shandy’s amber eyes remained in their permanently crescent-moon state, and she was clearly in the best of moods.
With alcohol in her system and her engine revved up, there was no stopping her. As though determined to bring down her target at all costs, she hummed to herself and entwined her feet with Mikoto’s beneath the low table.
She was probably enjoying the thrill of wondering whether they would be seen or not.
“That’s why… I told you I don’t have a thing for letting other people watch that sort of stuff…! Aren’t you embarrassed?”
“Oh, but by ‘adult pleasures’ I meant alcohol. What did you think I meant?”
“Ghh…!”
She’d got her.
Mikoto buried her face in the table so at least they wouldn’t see her expression, while Shandy’s triumphant laughter rang in her ears.
No matter how much time passed, Mikoto could never quite match Shandy. And, to make matters worse, she was constantly being toyed with.
It frustrated her that she could never quite stand as Shandy’s equal.
And it frustrated her just as much that she enjoyed it.
“Huh? There’s something other than alcohol?”
“Just give me alcohol, whatever it is! Something low-calorie, if possible!”
“Then how about a highball? It goes with absolutely anything.”
With that, Shandy lined up three glasses on the table.
Highball.
The name had long since taken on a life of its own, but originally it referred to a broad category of cocktails consisting of a distilled spirit topped up with carbonated water.
These days, however, the word generally means whisky and soda, and it has become so commonplace that you can find it anywhere from cheap izakayas and proper cocktail bars to drinks made at home.
It is easy to adjust the strength, and with roughly a third of the calories of beer, it has become immensely popular with people of all ages and genders.
“Come to think of it, we once had someone come into antiqua and ask for a ‘straight highball on the rocks’.”
“Oh, yeah. It was so hard to keep a straight face…”
“What?! That sounds so cool! Like a magic spell!”
“Yes. A forbidden spell capable of making everyone around you collapse with laughter. You must never use it, Aoi-chan.”
If you cast that spell at antiqua, an X.Y.Z. would come flying at you immediately.
How on earth someone had managed to line up nothing but different ways of drinking whisky and turn them into such a bizarre cocktail was beyond Mikoto.
“I’ll make yours a little weaker.”
Shandy looked beautiful as she poured the alcohol into the glasses.
She was not wearing her usual tightly tied-back blonde hair and white jacket that Mikoto had once watched from across the antiqua counter. Instead, her hair hung in loose curls, and she wore a long T-shirt emblazoned in huge letters with I DON’T WANT TO WORK.
And yet, measuring whisky with a jigger, she was no different from the mysterious woman Mikoto had once known.
“You’ve fallen for me all over again, haven’t you?”
“I knew you were going to say that. And yes, I have.”
“Then please fall in love with me again and again.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll fall for you as many times as it takes.”
And then they gazed into each other’s eyes.
Beyond their exchange of words lay another exchange, one made entirely of intertwined gazes.
Mikoto had lost this childish Game countless times before, the one where whoever looked away first was the loser. This time, she met Shandy’s eyes head-on.
The longer she looked, the more precious Shandy became.
The fate of one bewitched by an amber-coloured moon was to be cursed with love.
Again and again, love struck Mikoto in the chest, her heart pounding so fiercely it felt as though it might burst.
Lunatic.
The English word for madness had its roots in Luna, the moon.
If being bewitched by the moon meant losing one’s sanity, then Mikoto wanted to love even that madness.
Except…
“Wowww! You two are, like, really sexy!”
She had forgotten Aoi was there.
It wasn’t that being caught acting all lovey-dovey was exactly a problem, but it was embarrassing all the same.
Mikoto hurriedly reached for her highball and armed herself with an alcoholic blush.
It was the one brilliantly simple way to conceal the flush that Shandy kept throwing her off balance with.
“Sensuality is also an adult pleasure. Isn’t that right, Mikoto?”
“No comment.”
“I get you and Shandy-Nee now, but I wonder what Koto-Nee’s gonna do…”
Aoi’s face was bright red.
The result was a vivid reminder that the Kurosu family bloodline was notoriously poor at holding its liquor.
Her normally fluffy manner of speaking had become even more airy and flighty.
Perhaps she should avoid drinking outside the house.
There were bad adults in every corner of the world who simply adored innocent country girls.
Aoi continued, as though confirming the facts she had gathered so far.
“Koto-Nee said before that she liked her manager, so I just assumed they were going out. But…”
“That’s one of Kotone’s bad habits. She has this tendency to view other people as test subjects or things to observe. Calling it an occupational hazard might make it sound better than it is.”
“Not all actors are like that. I can vouch for it.”
“I’m not sure why Shandy-san is the one vouching for that…”
Shandy gave a little laugh.
Mikoto could not tell what she meant by it.
Smiling was as natural to Shandy as breathing, so perhaps it did not mean anything in particular.
Mikoto decided not to pry.
“So I was surprised!”
“Surprised? Why? It’s just like ordinary romance. If you can’t fall in love with someone, you don’t go out with them. Although in Rinko-san’s case, it seems she doesn’t go out with someone because she likes them too much.”
“No, that’s not it! I mean, the manager went home to—mmph!”
“Mikoto, your phone is ringing.”
“Oh, sorry. I suppose it’s because I haven’t given Sanae-san my progress report. You two carry on drinking.”
For some reason, Shandy had clamped a hand over Aoi’s mouth, but Mikoto had no time to worry about their antics.
She took her phone and stepped out onto the balcony.
Night had fallen over Kyōdō.
In the park below, now empty beneath the darkness, a lone figure stood.
It seemed to be waving.
Mikoto ignored it and pressed the answer button.
“Sorry, Sanae-san. Is this the regular update on the project?”
“Guess who I am?”
The voice on the other end was bright and absurdly cheerful.
Mikoto recognised it instantly.
“Toko-san? What’s wrong?”
“Neck exercises. Up and down. One, two, three, four!”
“Huh? What?”
“Good for stiff shoulders!”
Half-heartedly, Mikoto moved her head up and down.
That was when she noticed the figure in the park.
The streetlights illuminated her only faintly, making it impossible to make out her features, but she could see a long-haired woman moving her head up and down in time with the voice on the phone.
“Why have you suddenly started doing this…?”
“I know! I love shuffled pairings too! It’s all about having a main pairing at the centre, you know?”
“What does that have to do with anything…? We haven’t had a coherent conversation for the last five minutes!”
“Huh? Miko on the bottom and Tō on top? That’s the reverse pairing! Miko should be on top and Tō on the bottom!”
Even amid Toko’s complete nonsense, Mikoto could make out one particular incantation.
Mikotō.
She had no idea what the incantation meant, nor any intention of finding out, but Miko and Tō presumably referred to herself and Toko.
Miko on top.
Tō on the bottom.
Which meant…
“Toko-san… are you downstairs?”
“Yep! Everything’s A-OK!”
Apparently everything was A-OK Ranch.
Mikoto had absolutely no idea what that meant, but she strained her eyes towards the park below, desperately trying to decipher Toko’s intentions.
“Why don’t you come upstairs and talk? And, more importantly, why do you have Sanae-san’s phone?”
“Ah, sorry. I was doing a leaflet-delivery job, so I’d better hang up. Don’t tell Shandy-san, okay?”
It was a mystery.
Mikoto had absolutely no idea what Toko was doing.
She had always been a naturally strange person, but tonight she had somehow gone beyond even that. There was a different kind of mystery about her from Shandy’s.
The figure mounted a bicycle parked nearby and disappeared into the streets of Kyōdō as though nothing had happened.
As though she had merely stopped to make a private phone call while out doing a part-time job.
“Leaflet delivery…?”
For some reason, it bothered her.
Still pretending to be on the phone, Mikoto went downstairs and checked the postboxes in the entrance hall.
When she opened the box for her flat, she found a business card from a nearby love hotel, a sticky note marked 302, and, for some reason, a single small packet of KitKat1.
On the back of the KitKat, in cute, rounded handwriting, someone had written:
I’ll be waiting.
Was it Toko’s handwriting?
“Does this mean I’m supposed to go? Room 302?”
With this many pieces in place, it was easy enough to work out what she was being told to do.
Toko, presumably the mysterious person behind this bizarre leaflet-delivery job, had come to deliver instructions to Mikoto.
Why she had gone to such absurd lengths to do it, however, was completely beyond her.
Mikoto tried calling Sanae’s phone back, but the call was cut off partway through.
Then she tried Toko.
The familiar automated message told her that the phone was switched off.
“Er… this is terrifying.”
A chill ran down her spine.
But there was no doubt that someone was trying to convey some kind of message.
And with the words Don’t tell Shandy-san still ringing in her ears, Mikoto came up with some flimsy excuse and nervously set off on foot towards the designated love hotel.
Room 302.
What on earth could be waiting for her there?
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KitKat is associated with the Japanese phrase kitto katsu (“you’ll definitely win”). ↩