#97: Vintage Wine / ep.2
“Eee! Mimotan is such a cutie!”
“Achoo! Aaa—choo!”
True to her word, Kotone had done no such thing as keeping Mimosa isolated. She had already taken her out of the cage and was cuddling her. Mimosa herself was bewildered by the unfamiliar surroundings and had gone all docile, like a cat in a strange house. Even when Kotone vigorously scritched her favourite spot at the base of her tail, a place she normally allowed no one but Mikoto to touch, she put up no resistance whatsoever.
The only one putting up a fight was Rinko, who had her face poking out from behind a pillar, wearing two masks and even glasses for maximum protection. To look at her, you would have thought she was Kotone’s stalker.
“You should pet her too, Rinko-chan. She’s adorable!”
“Can’t you tell from looking at me that this isn’t exactly the time for that!?”
“Then why not just hole up in your room? Apparently cats don’t do well with aroma oils, so we can’t put her in your room anyway.”
“I can’t miss a photo opportunity like this!”
The reason Rinko wasn’t isolating herself in her room was the DSLR clutched in her hands.
She might have been thoroughly fed up with the reality of actress Kurosu Kotone, but the outer shell remained her all-time favourite even now that they were living together. To a dyed-in-the-wool Kotone otaku who had once gone to a fan meeting in a bright red T-shirt emblazoned with KOTONE FAN FOR LIFE, seeing her oshi in such a natural state, holding a cat, was almost unbearably precious. Whatever might be inside the shell was beside the point.
“Can’t be helped. Any poses you want? I’ll humour the camera geek’s requests.”
At Kotone’s exasperated remark, Rinko immediately answered as though she had been waiting for it.
“Sit cross-legged on the sofa!”
“Like this?” Kotone said with a silly grin, slipping into the requested pose in nothing but a T-shirt and underwear.
The combination of loungewear and cat radiated the effortless feel of an off-duty snapshot. Emotional. Powerful. Unstoppable. An excessive official supply of her oshi that went beyond anything a photobook could offer. Rinko’s head went haywire… Too photogenic. A picture made flesh. Too picture-perfect. My brain turned to mush, my language centre short-circuited, and I became incapable of anything but… e. Then o. Then ka. Then kiku-ke-ko..
“Okay, adorable! I’m dead!”
“Haha. You look like such an idiot right now, Rinko-chan.”
“Don’t smile like that! Give me a natural smile! And by ‘natural’, I mean your work smile, not your usual one!”
“Then how about I hold Mimosa and play with my phone?”
“Yes! Exactly that!”
Kotone instantly slipped into character, becoming Rinko’s oshi in the blink of an eye. Rinko fired off a burst of shots at her poised, dignified movements, then sneezed once.
She couldn’t stop shooting when Kotone naturally lifted Mimosa, who stretched out like mochi, into her arms. Another sneeze.
Then Kotone brought her face close to Mimosa’s and smiled at the camera.
“That! That one! That’s the one! Achoo—achoo…!”
Rinko hammered the shutter.
The closer she moved to capture her subject larger in the frame, the blurrier her vision became, and the more her nose ran. On top of that, all the sneezing had apparently broken her diaphragm, because now she had the hiccups as well.
Even so, she had to get closer. Otherwise she couldn’t take the perfect photo of her oshi.
“Pretty impressive photographer’s spirit, considering you said you were going to die at worst.”
“It’s your fault for being so beautiful!”
“Even without makeup?”
“You’re beautiful even without makeup! Give me a more confident expression. I love that one! Let me photograph everything about you, Kotone! Show me everything!”
Kotone hid her face behind Mimosa, prompting Rinko to shout instinctively.
“Don’t hide your face! Kotone! Look this way!”
“No, I’m just… not right now. It’s embarrassing…”
Rinko was completely unaware of what she was doing.
＊
“I said, ‘I want to walk around in yukata,’ so March 6 became Yukata Day.”
There was still some time before the dinner buffet, so I slipped into my yukata and put my hair up.
The young proprietress whom Shandy had so bluntly dismissed for her “lack of hospitality” had nevertheless prepared one in exactly the right size for me.
“Hehe. How do I look? This is the very essence of Japanese-Western fusion.”
I had dutifully obeyed Shandy’s order not to look until she had changed, and when I turned around, there she stood, the very embodiment of Japanese-Western fusion.
Her short, wavy blonde bob swayed against a yukata patterned with pale pink and white yagasuri. The well-bred young lady who had been wearing a classical dress only moments ago had transformed in an instant into a foreign lady straight out of Taishō-era romanticism. It was almost frightening.
I couldn’t resist taking a photo, and hurriedly raised my phone.
“Adorable…!”
“That’s right, that’s right. I am adorable, after all.”
“Adorable, adorable!”
As I snapped away, Shandy took my phone from me. I let out an “Aww” like a child whose toy had been taken away, and the next moment Shandy gave me a little knock on the forehead.
“Photographs are all very well, but burn the sight into your memory. I went to all this trouble to dress up for you.”
As if she hadn’t secretly been dying to wear it herself.
When the young proprietress had handed Shandy the yukata, she had been practically squirming with anticipation, so I had deliberately beaten her to it by saying, “I want to walk around in yukata.”
“So you did.”
“What’s with that look? You clearly have something to say.”
“Nothing.”
“Hmm. You’re being mean today, Mikoto.”
Her sulking was adorable too.
She could act all aloof and world-weary, yet she could also frolic with the innocent exuberance of a capricious girl. I never knew which face was the real her, and that mystery had drawn me in. Even now, the mystery remained profound and impossible to see through, with only more things accumulating that I couldn’t understand.
But there was one thing I knew for certain.
“Thank you for coming along with me.”
Shandy might have been free-spirited, but she always accommodated me. She was always waiting for me, having anticipated me in advance.
Then, even if all I was doing was being rolled around in the palm of her hand, even if I was merely being led like a partner in a ballroom dance, I wanted to catch up with her.
I wanted to hold her in my arms.
“You’re just… too unfair, you know.”
And then, just once, I wanted to get ahead of her. I wanted to see Shandy blush, lost for words.
I wanted to repay the love that had pulled me up and helped me grow.
That was terribly embarrassing for me too, of course.
“What’s wrong, Shandy?”
“…It’s not exactly commendable to ask when you already know the answer.”
“But you said I wouldn’t know unless you told me.”
“Then please know without my telling you.”
She was such a contrarian. She insisted that Mikoto put things into words, yet she herself hated doing so.
There was a part of me that wanted to hear words like I love you and I adore you. But in truth, I already knew. And I wanted to make the effort to understand without being told.
“That’s true. You’re sensitive, Shandy.”
“If you know that, could you please stop laughing?”
It was Yukata Day, and for once I felt as though I had managed to get ahead of her by just a little.
In addition to the slippers provided in our room, there were geta waiting for us as well.
“Yukata call for geta,” came the final word, and I experienced the feel of geta straps between my toes for the first time since my shichigosan ceremony. I had worn boots with my hakama for my coming-of-age ceremony.
All I could hear was the mountain wind roaring through the valley and the current of the Kinugawa River. Our aimless conversation, and the sound of two pairs of geta.
Our footsteps fell in unison because we were walking close together.
I watched Shandy walking beside me, our joined hands swinging back and forth.
Perhaps the reason I instinctively kept to the road side was that my companion was a princess.
“Oh, by the way, what was the present from Toko?”
“Hm? Oh, that?”
I had been so distracted by how beautiful she looked that I had forgotten about the thing altogether.
I had only taken a brief look, but there had been organza and lace underwear, a little bottle of some sort of tonic beginning with the word Seduction, and one other item that seemed to be a mysterious little box. Whatever they were, they were almost certainly intended for that sort of thing.
I would put up with the embarrassment for the duration of this trip.
That was what I had told myself.
But this was frankly beyond the limits of what I could tolerate. I absolutely had to lie about something Shandy would have no interest in.
“It was kind of like a belated Valentine’s Day gift.”
“What about my share?”
“Sorry. I ate it.”
Her amber eyes fixed on me.
I mustn’t look away.
“What brand, by the way?”
“Godiva, I think.”
“Pralines?”
“Yeah. Six in a box.”
“You ate all of them?”
“I ate one and couldn’t stop.”
“They are delicious.”
“Exactly. It’s the deliciousness that’s to blame.”
“Hm?”
She was probing me.
She suspected something.
“Toko only gave me a box of three.”
That was Shandy’s bluff.
The message card from Toko had said she hadn’t managed to give her a Valentine’s chocolate.
“Difference in popularity?”
“Toko, who only sees people as either ‘Sanae’ or ‘everyone else’? I don’t think there’s any difference to speak of.”
“But mine had six.”
So I deliberately told the truth without revealing the truth, breaking through her bluff.
That was how to make the lie more convincing.
Something I had learned from the Werewolf Game.
Shandy’s eyes widened for an instant, then she smiled.
On paper, I had the upper hand in this battle of wits.
I wanted to sweat it out in the hot spring, yet here I was with clammy palms from tension.
“Then where’s the empty box?”
“Huh?”
“Godiva comes in such a splendid box that it seems almost wasteful to throw it away. What did you do with the empty box?”
Her upper-crescent eyes were smiling.
She had seen through me.
Once Shandy found an opening, she never let up the attack.
“I threw it away. It would only be rubbish if I brought it home.”
“Oh, what a waste. I like those boxes. They’re just the right size for keeping hair accessories. I wonder if we’d find it if we went back now.”
“Er…”
The sound of my geta stopped.
Her hand squeezed mine tight.
I almost looked away on instinct, but somehow managed to hold her gaze.
The clever little mischief that had lain dormant for a while was peeking out again.
Yes.
She was Shandy.
“So you were given something that made you lie because you didn’t want me to know about it.”
“Y-yeah, well, actually… I was given a Zexy, but it’s embarrassing to show you. I mean, I’d rather buy one myself…”
I had still clung to the lie because I absolutely didn’t want her to figure it out.
Shandy thought for a moment, then smiled meaningfully.
“Well, I can understand wanting to hand it directly to me.”
“That’s why. Oh, right, shall we have some onsen manju?”
“That’s a lie too, isn’t it?”
The image of myself wearing that flashed through my mind.
Bad.
“A two-layered lie? You’ve resorted to such underhanded tactics now? I don’t recall ever teaching you such a cheap trick.”
“N-no! I mean…”
“If you’re going to such lengths to hide it, then Toko must have sent you something you really, really don’t want me to know about. Am I wrong?”
Her powers of observation were as sharp as ever.
She had completely anticipated my thoughts and reached the secret I was hiding in an instant.
But needs must.
“Th-then let’s make it a Game! Guess what Toko gave me!”
“Hehe. What are the rules?”
“If you can guess all three presents Toko gave me before our walk is over, you win. If you can’t, I won’t tell you. And naturally, you’re not allowed to ask Toko. No hints either.”
“That puts me at a disadvantage. If I win, will you do as I say?”
“Ugh…”
I couldn’t stop imagining myself wearing that thing and drinking whatever was in that bottle.
If I lost—
Then whoever loses the Game should put it on and down the contents of the little bottle in one go. I want us to have a delightful night that neither of us will ever forget.
—I absolutely had to prevent that.
I swore firmly to victory.
“I-I accept!”
“Very well. The Kinugawa Stroll Game. We have one hour left before dinner, so let’s enjoy it to the fullest!”
With that, Shandy took me by the hand and led me towards the souvenir shops in the hot-spring district.
I warmed up my tongue so I could answer “No” no matter what she said, then ran along beside her, my geta clattering merrily.
＊
There could surely be no greater happiness than wandering through souvenir shops with one’s lover, and yet Mikoto’s nerves were taut for an entirely different reason. The Kinugawa Stroll Game meant never showing Shandy the slightest opening.
But I had a secret weapon.
Several months earlier, when Sanae happened to drop by the Planning Department, we had fallen into casual conversation.
“Mind-reading mentalism?”
“To put it simply, reading another person’s mind. It’s often treated as occultism, but it is a bona fide scientific method rooted in behavioural psychology.”
“Here’s an easy example,” Sanae added, resting her cheek on her hand at the desk.
She tapped the index finger of her hand against the table in a rhythmic beat.
“How do I look to you right now?”
“Like you’re annoyed? Like the conversation’s boring and you want to go home right now.”
“Yes. There are cases where someone is simply relaxed because they are concentrating on the conversation, but either way, such behaviour suggests the emotions they are experiencing in the moment.”
“So you read emotions from movements.”
There were other examples too. Looking at Sanae with her head hanging, I guessed “You’re depressed,” while touching her chin meant “You’re not convinced.”
We played a game where I had to guess what Sanae’s gestures meant, linking each movement to an emotion.
The one she called her “big, beaming smile” was the only one where I couldn’t quite read the emotion.
After all that, Sanae said:
“The reason you keep getting found out by that woman is probably because she is skilled at mind-reading. More specifically, she notices tiny habits even the person herself isn’t aware of, and uses them to determine her mental state.”
“Surely she doesn’t—”
“She probably does.”
“I think she watches for tiny changes in you, such as hesitating when you answer or looking away. For example, in my case…”
Sanae touched the ring on her ring finger.
“Apparently, when I feel stressed, I touch this.”
I had seen her touch that ring several times.
Even someone who was practically a robot at work might sometimes want someone to lean on, I supposed.
Her expression was the very definition of a poker face, though.
“Everyone’s got their seven little habits, I suppose…”
Naturally, I had my suspicions about my own.
When Shandy pressed me, my voice went slightly high. When she stared at me, I looked away.
Shandy had tells of her own.
When caught off guard, her eyes would widen like a full moon. And when she was plotting some mischief against Mikoto, her eyes would narrow until they looked like an upper crescent moon.
Sanae gave a small nod.
“To counter mind-reading, you must observe your own behaviour objectively and identify your seven little habits. Suppressing habits is difficult, but it is possible with persistence.”
“So Sanae-san’s expressionless face right now is the ideal?”
There was no reply.
I glanced at Sanae.
Her head was bowed.
The gesture was so pronounced I could almost hear a zūn sound effect.
She was depressed.
And, on top of that, she was touching her ring, so she was stressed.
“I enjoy talking with you, Mikoto-san… so I was trying to smile…”
“Oh—yeah! It’s a great smile, isn’t it!? Yes, yes!”
I felt a little bad.
But— mind-reading.
If Shandy was seeing through my habits and getting ahead of me because of them, perhaps all I had to do was maintain Sanae’s expressionless, unresponsive demeanour.
“Now, time for some mystery-solving. This should be fun, Mikoto.”
“SO I SUPPOSE.”
Sanae had given me my method for countering Shandy’s mind-reading.
It was—
“Why are you speaking in such a robotic monotone?”
“YOU MUST BE IMAGINING THINGS.”
“You think this little performance will let you escape my interrogation?”
“BRING IT ON.”
I would become an emotionless robot.
I couldn’t exactly walk around going clank, clank, but I decided to remain like this until the Game was over.
Shandy giggled at me, making me feel embarrassed.
What on earth was I doing at my age?
And in front of my fiancée, no less.
But I absolutely refused to lose the Game, so there was nothing for it.
“Then let’s start by eating some onsen manju.”
“YES.”
The things had been heated in a steamer until great clouds of steam rose from them, and they were so large they looked almost like steamed buns rather than manju.
I was a little concerned about how much room that would leave for dinner, but it was their deliciousness that was to blame.
“Ahh, I want a drink.”
Shandy suddenly said it, then glanced over at me.
But I was a robot now, so I didn’t respond properly.
“YES.”
“I see. It’s not food, then.”
I had no idea what had just happened.
I had been behaving like a robot, taking care not to make any careless movements.
“Yes, I understand. One of the three is a drink.”
“NO—”
“Hehe. Now I’m certain.”
And just like that, she had narrowed it down.
I had absolutely no idea why.
“I’ll tell you specially, Robot. ‘It’s not food’ was a bluff. By confidently declaring it, I was trying to provoke a reaction from you.”
Like a psychologist.
No, more like a detective, Shandy continued in that self-assured tone.
“Then I inserted another bluff immediately afterwards. When I confidently declared that it was a drink, you became even more agitated, thinking, ‘Have I been found out?’ That agitation piled on top of the first, your voice went up, and I became certain it was a drink.”
It was the agitation that had given me away.
I hadn’t managed to become a proper robot.
I crushed my emotions down as far as they would go, trying to respond as naturally as possible.
Almost as though I were dealing with Rinko.
“It’s not.”
“Yes, exactly. Keep that temperature. It’s far too easy otherwise.”
As she spoke, Shandy walked towards the local sake section at the back of the souvenir shop.
Shandy had apparently settled on alcohol.
In that case, there was no way she would figure it out.
Because that little bottle was something much more troublesome than alcohol.
“Well, it isn’t alcohol, though.”
“Huh?”
My real self had slipped out.
I was so hopeless at lying that I wanted to hide my face.
“Your fiancée, who is, after all, a professional in the world of alcohol, and Toko-san would hardly give you alcohol as a present, would she?”
“It’s not.”
“It is. Judging by the size of the box, the drink is in a little bottle. Something like…”
Near the local sake section, Shandy picked up a turmeric drink intended to prevent overdrinking and smiled.
“…a little bottle of tonic like this. Am I right?”
“It’s not.”
“Your face is bright red, you know, Robot.”
There was nothing left to do but hang my head.
No matter how carefully I controlled my words and movements, there was nothing I could do about the embarrassment.
I hated the far too honest blood coursing through my body.
“I’ve got the first one. Now, shall we move on to the second?”
“It’s not.”
“You’d be harder to read if you acted naturally. Silly girl.”
With that, Shandy kissed me.
But even that might have been another bluff on her part.
From then on, I decided I would only say one thing.
“It’s not.”