Chapter 1: Setting Off

Chapter 1:
Setting Off

 

“WHENEVER I GO VISIT my parents, they always wanna talk about the past, you know?”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t get it at first, but after I thought about it, I realized it actually makes a lot of sense. Like, in terms of their age, their past is a lot longer than their future, so yeah. No wonder they’re always talking about old memories.”

“Right…”

“Maybe we’ll end up reminiscing all the time, too. What do you think, Adachi?”

“Hmmm…” She paused to think for a moment. “That might be nice.”

“Right?”

This was the conversation we had as I packed my suitcase. As for Adachi, she said she wasn’t going to pack until later tonight; for now, she was sitting on the sofa, watching TV. Onscreen, I could see some sort of educational program, with a child in a familiar-looking spacesuit wiggling idly as a man in a white lab coat gave a lecture about something. But if I had to guess, Adachi wasn’t really paying attention.

The faint heat of May drifted in through the open window. Compared to summer in full swing, the humidity wasn’t quite as oppressive. This was probably how I felt the last time May rolled around too. But that suited me just fine. If my opinion of the seasons changed with every single year, I’d probably wear myself out before long.

Together, the two of us had picked out an apartment and moved in. We went shopping together, used the same household supplies, slept in the same bed, and breathed the same air. Everything in the house was just enough for two. This was the year Adachi and I turned 27—and at least for now, the future ahead still felt longer than my past.

After checking the contents one last time, it was time to zip my suitcase shut…shut…SHUT! I leaned my body weight down onto it to force it closed. If I unzipped it even a little, it was liable to spring open like a jack-in-the-box, so hopefully, I wouldn’t need to open it until we made it to the hotel. Briefly, I contemplated whether to slap a post-it note on the front so I wouldn’t forget.

Tomorrow marked the start of our big trip overseas. For the first time in my life, I was going to leave Japan—partly to keep a promise, partly as a celebration, partly as a reward for working hard, but mostly to step outside my comfort zone. In other words, this trip held a lot of significance for me. A deep sense of sentimentality flooded my chest.

“How long’s it been since the last time we went on a trip, anyway?”

“Um…since high school?” As far as I could remember, anyway. If I was right, then it had been eight or nine years—eh, roughly ten years, let’s say. Nearly the same length of time that I’d known Adachi.

“Oh, yeah, the school trip… That brings back a lot of memories,” she murmured.

“Do you even remember what we did on that trip?”

“Nope.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you just say it brings back memories?”

She didn’t respond. Normally, I would have stormed over there and pinched her ear or her cheek or whatever I could get my hands on, but right now I was busy packing my other bag. Unlike her, I didn’t have time to sit around and wait for tomorrow. I had promised my parents I would visit at some point during Golden Week, and since we were using the rest of it for the trip, today was the only time I had available. Hence, I was scrambling back and forth.

As previously mentioned, I didn’t generally do a lot of traveling, so I kept belatedly remembering things and stuffing them into my carry-on. Then I’d realize they weren’t essential and take them out again…but then I’d remember something else, and the cycle would continue. It wasn’t fun, to say the least.

“So you’re not gonna go see your mom before we go?” I asked.

“Meh… No need.”

She changed the channel to something about a deserted island. Then it started talking about these little birds I’d seen before in the mountains nearby, and that was when I finally learned what they were called. From now on, perhaps I would make a conscious effort to look up at the birds whenever I went for a walk. For me, learning was always a good thing. It was only after I learned Adachi’s name that she rose to the forefront of the nebulous category labeled “classmates.”

She had yet to visit her parents’ house a single time since the day she moved in with me, but…given their strained relationship, maybe it was for the best. To me, it was sad, but in this case, the only opinion that really mattered was Adachi’s.

Becoming a legal adult didn’t magically solve anything. In fact, it only made me feel like more of a screw-up for constantly putting my problems on the backburner. Every now and then I thought to myself: With age comes wisdom, and wisdom is a curse.

Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I walked to the fridge and opened it, just to check. We were planning to be gone for quite a while, so we’d emptied it as best we could. Thinking back to the ketchup udon stir-fry that Adachi threw together last night, I closed the door. A pleasant gust of chilled air brushed past the left half of my face.

All we had to drink was the water from the thermos I’d refrigerated in advance. I never could get used to this stuff. Unlike the well water at my parents’ house, the city water smelled of fluoride.

Once my suitcase and backpack were finally ready to go, I hurried to the front door; Adachi heard my footsteps and got up from the sofa to see me off. Her hair was longer now than when we were teenagers, which made her look all the more adult, and her previously aloof attitude had softened considerably in the time since then. Sometimes I liked to reminisce about that panicky passion she used to have, but…frankly, with a little teasing, I could see it again anytime I wanted.

“Well, I’ll see you at the airport.”

“Okay.”

Once I left, I wasn’t coming back here until after the trip was over. “Pretty exciting, don’t you think?”

“Is it?” she blinked, tilting her head in mild puzzlement. At some point our roles had reversed, and now she was the calm, rational one—at least, on the outside. “Personally, I don’t like anything that gets in the way of us spending time together.”

“…Hm.”

“But it’s just one measly day apart. I have faith that our trip together will more than make up for it.”

“…Hmmm…”

Gah, so cheesy! I tried to play it off, but on the inside I was squirming bashfully. Then, as the seconds passed, Adachi started to boil until her ears were as pink as the flowers she was named after. Ah, just like the good old days. For a split second, she had gone back to the faltering teenager I once knew.

“Come on, Shimamura, now it’s your turn to say something cringey.”

She had hoisted herself with her own petard, and now she was trying to hoist me.

“…Gosh, how can I possibly choose?”

“You have a lot?”

She looked at me in surprise. Naturally, I was bluffing. My gaze darted to and fro until finally, mercifully, I thought of something.

“The other day, I accidentally wore your underwear to work.” I’d slept through my alarm, and as I rushed to get dressed, I didn’t take a close look at what I was pulling on.

Adachi froze. Then, belatedly, she repeated: “To work?”

“Yeah.”

She didn’t really react to this. “And that’s…cringey?”

“Well, it was for me!”

At first, I was sincerely confused as to whose panties I was wearing. Then it hit me: I recognized them from the laundry hamper. Such a relief. When I got home that day, I snuck them into the dirty laundry and vowed never to let Adachi find out…and yet here I was, confessing my secret. Not that she seemed to care.

But after a long moment, she finally chuckled. “I swear, you have no class.”

“Say wha?!” Sometimes, it really felt like she could read my mind.

After this somewhat long goodbye, I started heading out for real.

“Well, see you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

This exchange wasn’t much different from the one we had earlier, but we went through the motions regardless. Honestly, I loved making overly optimistic promises with her. It was so much fun to plan for the future with someone else.

As I opened the door, a voice called out hastily from behind me: “What pattern—er, what color were they? The panties?” For some reason, Adachi was as stiff as a board.

“Dare I ask why you want to know…?”

Starting tomorrow, we were embarking on our first-ever international adventure. If I said I wasn’t excited, I’d be a total liar.

 

***

 

When I arrived at my parents’ house, I was baffled to find that the front door was unlocked. You’re getting lazy, Mom, I sighed silently to myself. I started to ring the doorbell, but as my finger hovered uselessly in midair, yet another lazybones arrived. It was a little shark, holding a rice ball and walking on two legs.

“I had a feeling it was you, Shimamura-san,” she called with a grin over the pitter-patter of her little feet. “Welcome home.”

“Great to be back.”

It was Yashiro, welcoming me into my parents’ house like she was part of the family. For fun, I picked her up and lifted her into the air. She weighed practically nothing.

“Wheeee!” She swung her arms and legs in sheer delight.

 

Over the past decade, absolutely nothing had changed about her. Her height, her hair, her bright smile—they were all just as I remembered. The one difference was that she had gone from lion PJs to shark PJs. Now she was both the king of the jungle and the ruler of the seas…but in both cases, her head always wound up in an animal’s mouth.

“It’s been so long!” she exclaimed.

“No, it hasn’t,” I corrected her. After all, we just saw each other two days ago. Every now and then, she would show up at my apartment out of nowhere, eat my food, and leave. By this point, Adachi had gotten used to having her around, and on rare occasions, I would even catch a glimpse of her sneaking Yashiro a treat.

But my apartment was a considerable distance from my parents’ house, so I was amazed she could make the trip without breaking a sweat. She seemed to defy every law of physics, time, and space. In a sense, I envied that about her…assuming there were no downsides, of course.

“What’s with the rice ball?”

“It is my snack. It contains kelp,” she informed me, not that I really needed to know. “Would you care for a bite?”

“Hmmm… Okay, maybe just a bite.” I opened my mouth wide.

“Remember, you only get one bite.”

“I know, I know.”

I nibbled one corner. It tasted exactly like the salted rice balls my mother would always make for me to take to field day at school. Not sure about junior high, but when I was back in elementary school, I eagerly took part in all the school events. I could still feel the lingering traces of that passion like a scar on my skin.

Then Yashiro ate the rest of her rice ball in a single bite. For a little kid, her mouth was huge. “This large rice ball has filled 10 percent of my hunger meter!”

“That’s practically nothing!” I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to get hungry again after a hundred steps. “So what’s the story behind those pajamas, anyway?”

“They were a gift from Little.” She flapped her fins.

“You’ve got some weird taste, sis…” Looking back, my little sister always did love to take care of aquatic animals. Not that she ever owned a shark.

I lowered Yashiro to the floor and readjusted my backpack straps; she slurped the stray grains of rice from her fingers, then ran off. So I followed that tiny beacon all the way to the living room, where I found the aforementioned sister lounging in front of the TV with her legs splayed. She looked up at the sound of Yashiro’s footsteps, then looked at me without even batting a lash. “Oh, hey, you’re here.”

“Just got here, yeah.”

“I was wondering where Yachi ran off to. Thought maybe she went to get some candy.”

She spread her arms wide, inviting Yashiro to join her. Sure enough, the little girl ran up and settled between my sister’s legs. She was then given an animal cookie, as if in greeting; it made a pleasant crunch as she bit down. Surely, a shark wouldn’t eat something as cute and fanciful as animal cookies.

But now I had to wonder: How did Yashiro sense that I was at the door if I never rang the doorbell? It was reminiscent of the way a dog or cat would randomly stare into empty space.

“Where’s Mom?”

“Kitchen.”

If I listened closely, I could hear the sound of a kitchen knife tapping against a cutting board.

I set my luggage in the corner, then sat down a short distance away from my sister, behind her and to the side. From behind, she reminded me of me when I was her age, particularly the long hair and the posture. Of course, I’d never actually observed myself from behind, so I couldn’t say for sure, but still. It was weird.

I was kinda hoping you wouldn’t turn out like me, but oh, well. The cue ball of fate had sent me flying and nudged her into my place instead.

Her fingers curled around Yashiro’s shark hood and pulled it down, revealing her sky-blue hair in a torrent of sparkles. Smiling, my sister stroked the girl’s head, her pale fingers cresting the waves like white foam. Meanwhile, she periodically brought a cookie to Yashiro’s mouth, and Yashiro was more than happy to oblige. These days there was a significant height difference between them, but their friendship hadn’t changed one bit. If anything, they seemed closer than ever.

“Don’t spoil her too much, now,” I cautioned her, even though I knew this warning was ten years too late. But my sister shrugged it off.

“What do you mean? Look at her. She’s so cute! Right, Yachi?” She peeked at the little girl’s face.

Yashiro blinked back, mouth full of cookie. “I beg your pardon?” she asked, her eyes round and innocent. To this day, the two of them really seemed like siblings, even as the gap in their ages continued to widen every year.

“Besides, Mom spoils her a lot too.”

“I guess when you’re that cute, you get everything handed to you…”

Upon further consideration, maybe it wasn’t much different from owning a cat or dog. Especially dogs. So dang cute.

“The neighbors all think she’s an international exchange student.”

“What, from overseas?”

“Yes, I come from over the sea! Ha ha ha!” Yashiro declared thoughtlessly. A sea of stars, maybe. As she crunched on a frog-shaped cookie, her molars glittered pale blue like her eyes. You, my dear, are a creature beyond mortal comprehension.

“Over the sea, hm…?”

Tomorrow, I too would travel to the other side of the ocean. What would it feel like? Like being teleported to the other side of a TV screen? The longer I thought about it, the fuzzier I felt. Were there more of Yashiro’s kind waiting for me over there?

“Would it kill you to let me know you’re here?”

Just then, someone flicked my head. When I tried to turn and look, she did it again. Then she started tapping on my skull over and over until finally it pissed me off so much, I whirled around aggressively. There stood my mother, stooped over slightly and tormenting me with both hands. She froze for a moment, then started smacking my forehead next.

“Hey!”

I slapped her hands away. She promptly stopped and straightened her posture. The earthy smell of onions wafted to my nose.

“Now, what do you say?” she demanded, palm up. Her entitled attitude did not encourage me to cooperate. But I couldn’t think of a good comeback, so in the end, I was left with no other choice.

“I’m back, Mom.”

“Good. Welcome home. If you had any common sense, this is the first thing you’d think to do when you got here! You really ought to learn some manners.”

“I was just about to come find you, okay?”

“Keh!”

She stormed off back to the kitchen. If anyone was rude here, it was her. But, setting her bratty behavior aside, I was technically supposed to let her know I made it here safe.

“You really haven’t improved at all, have you, Nee-chan?”

All my life, my little sister would always point and laugh whenever I got in trouble. In the past I would have punished her for it, but now that I was sitting down, it would take way too much effort to get up again. That’s how I knew I was officially an adult. At some point, I had lost the energy needed to chase her down.

“Okay, no more cookies for today.” She gave one more to Yashiro, who crunched it into dust within seconds. “When I was in high school, I must’ve spent at least a third of my allowance on snacks for Yachi,” she continued wistfully. “But hey. Sometimes, money can buy happiness. And when you can get it for cheap, that’s a bargain.”

She tugged Yashiro’s cheeks, and they stretched like mochi as the girl in question grinned. Both of them seemed so content.

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

I could see where she was coming from. In the same vein, I spent my hard-earned cash to put a smile on Adachi’s face.

 

***

 

For dinner we had okonomiyaki, tamagoyaki, and yakisoba.

“That’s a lot of yaki.”

“You like these things, right?”

“Well, yeah…”

“I like them as well!” Yashiro volunteered, raising her hand gleefully. Personally, I’d be more interested to learn if there was anything she didn’t like to eat.

She was sitting in the chair I used to sit in, next to my younger sister. Apparently, this was something of a routine for them. I sat in the vacant chair normally occupied by my father. “Where’s Dad?”

“He went night fishing with the neighbor.”

“He just can’t get enough, huh?”

At some point over the years, my father had become obsessed with fishing. Sometimes, he’d walk down the hall yelling, “Gotta go fish!” so to be honest, I wasn’t sure how he ever managed to catch anything.

All that aside, I had a newfound appreciation for my parents’ house—a place where you could just sit around and food would magically appear on the table. What a wonderful place to live, I mused to myself as I chewed a bite of okonomiyaki. The sweet taste of cabbage and onions spread on my tongue…

Wait, what? I cocked my head in confusion. Experimentally, I cut another piece from the other side of the pancake, examined the cross-section, and popped it into my mouth. Sure enough, it tasted great and all, but…

“I, uh, notice there’s no meat in this.”

My mother chuckled coolly. “Heh, yeah! I thought we had some in the fridge, but we didn’t.”

Upon further inspection, I realized the yakisoba was just cabbage and noodles too.

“Relax. I already hit it with the Sauce Beam and Aonori Flash, so it’s edible, trust me!” she insisted, shutting down the conversation before it could continue.

“This happens a lot,” my sister shrugged as she quietly slurped her noodles.

“…Well, okay, then.”

This was just part of the Shimamura family’s cooking style…I guess.

Next, I took a bite of my omelet, the recipe for which thankfully didn’t call for meat. The soft, sweet egg enveloped my molars and my heart. Now this was what I thought of when I thought about my mother’s home cooking. But even then, I wasn’t enjoying it nearly as much as the strange child who had been living here for the past ten years.

“Tastes like destiny!”

“You’re a bigger brat than you let on, you know that?”

The longer I watched her, the more it felt like the plates and pots might come to life and start singing. But the happy little shark didn’t even notice my gaze.

A few minutes after we finished eating, my sister rose from the table. “It’s time to take a bath, Yachi,” she announced as she took the little girl’s hand in hers.

“That will not be necessary for today!”

“Oh, I’m afraid it’s very necessary.”

Before Yashiro could escape, my sister grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and carried her off. The captured shark flailed her fins, but alas, it was in vain—though if I had to guess, she wasn’t seriously trying to escape in the first place. Just then, however, my sister looked over her shoulder…and while I knew it was something I couldn’t possibly have seen before, it gave me an intense feeling of déjà vu, like I was watching a younger version of myself.

“I think I finally understand how you must have felt when you were dealing with me,” she murmured wistfully.

“…Yeah?”

“Yeah. Now let’s go, Yachi!”

And so my sister carried the wriggly shark all the way to the bathroom. Meanwhile, I ruminated on the concept of a sisterly bond.

“I wonder how it felt…”

When I paused to actually think about it, the lack of an immediate answer made me panic on the inside. But I couldn’t exactly ask her to elaborate without looking like a loser fishing for compliments… As the TV droned in the background, my vision swirled with my thoughts. The things I always took for granted all blurred together in my memories.

“Hrrmm,” said the only other person left in the room with me. I looked up to find my mother standing there.

“What is it?”

“So you’re going on a trip?” she asked, like it was somehow news to her.

I stared at her in confusion. “Didn’t I tell you about it over the phone the other day?”

“Yes, you did. And yes, I remember. Hah!” she scoffed, shrugging her shoulders.

As usual, I could never grasp where her snotty attitude came from. “Well? What about it?”

“Beats me.” She was the one who started this conversation, and yet she tilted her head like she didn’t have anything to say. “Well, whatever.” Just like that, she single-handedly came to terms with whatever her issue was and walked off without me.

“What was that about…?”

My mother never made any sense, not just in terms of personality, but her appearance too. From the moment I was born, my parents were adults, and they would stay adults until the day they died. Hence, I couldn’t really tell if anything about them had changed over the past ten years. The best I could pinpoint was that the streak of gray hair in my mother’s bangs had gotten bigger…but of course, if I said anything about it, she’d probably pinch my eyelids or something.

After that I watched TV for a while, but once I realized I wasn’t actually paying attention to anything, I switched it off. Then I opened the sliding glass door to the tiny backyard and caught a whiff of the feeble night wind…so I sat down and let it cool me off.

My body had completely jumped the gun and was already burning with excitement. My parents’ house should have been the most relaxing place on earth, and yet, with each passing second the restlessness inside me grew. Was this how everyone else felt the night before a big trip? After a moment, I heard footsteps and looked over my shoulder. The little alien was a shark no longer.

“Classy.”

She was wearing that one blue yukata. But her hair was still dripping wet, and she was leaving little puddles of bathwater all over the floor…puddles that seemed to glow as blue as her hair.

“Mama-san has asked me to wear it at bedtime.”

Seemingly, every piece of clothing she owned was a gift or hand-me-down. Then again, she couldn’t exactly buy any clothes of her own.

“Mama-san?” I repeated.

“I am also on such good terms with Papa-san that he will sometimes invite me to go fishing with him,” she continued.

“…Are you referring to my parents?”

“Indeed,” she nodded. Then she plopped down beside me. “When I inquired as to how I should refer to them, that is what they suggested.”

“Interesting.”

Personally, I only ever called them Mom and Dad, like my sister did. “Mama” and “Papa” made me cringe a little.

“Everyone in the Shimamura family is so very kind-hearted.”

“Apparently so.” Only a family like ours would take a random kid in off the street and spoil her rotten. “Hmmm…”

Honestly, shouldn’t at least one of us have gotten a little…you know…concerned by now? It was one thing to let an unrelated child into the house, but shouldn’t we have had second thoughts when we realized she never wanted to leave? And never seemed to age? In that sense, my family was really quite tolerant. Or maybe just apathetic. Not that I had any right to judge, I guess.

“Not only that, but Mama-san sometimes gives me cabbage to eat.”

“I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing…” She’s not a rabbit, Mom.

Together, Yashiro and I enjoyed the breeze for a while. Even in the silence, she exuded heat through her flushed cheeks and nose. At this time of night, there wasn’t much light shining down on us, and yet, her natural glow lit her up as brightly as the midday sun.

Slowly, it began to dawn on me just what sort of inexplicable being I was seated next to. I would surely never find another person like her anywhere in the world.

“I’m leaving the country tomorrow to go on a trip.”

“Ooooh,” she replied absently. Then, a beat later, she caved to her own selfish desire: “I shall eagerly await a tasty souvenir.”

“I had a feeling you’d say that.”

When I looked at Yashiro with her eyes sparkling, I could easily see why my sister kept buying snacks for her. The average person couldn’t hope to express joy this pure…unless, of course, they were just as pure themselves.

“…It’s so strange, you know?”

“Is it?”

“Yeah.” As I combed my fingers through her hair, I contemplated my own emotional state.

Back when I was a not-quite-adult in high school, there was no way Adachi and I could have flown out of Japan. Back then, we couldn’t go anywhere—but now, things were different. Now, we could go wherever we wanted. No one would encourage us, but no one would stop us either. If we wanted to go somewhere, then we had to plan for it and put in the effort to make it happen.

At some point, I had jumped from child to adult. This was by no means a one-step process—I couldn’t possibly have gotten this far without spreading my wings and taking flight of my own free will, so—

“When was the exact moment I left the nest and became my own person?” I wondered aloud. I had never spoken of this to anyone before.

“The day you met Adachi-san, I would wager,” the hungry little fairy-tale creature announced matter-of-factly, without a hint of sympathy for my navel-gazing.

Quietly, I was alarmed that she had an answer at all. I wasn’t expecting her to take my philosophical anguish quite this seriously.

“Of all the possibilities presented to you, you will always find your way to Adachi-san,” she continued knowingly, as if she were merely recounting what she knew to be fact.

In life, as long as no “undo” button existed, there was only ever one possibility. Nevertheless, Yashiro’s frank tone encouraged me to respond candidly in turn. “Really?”

“Yes,” she answered quietly, without any fuss or fanfare.

At this point, I was in danger of believing her.

“That is always the point at which you start to change.” She put a hand on my shoulder—not a shark’s fin or a lion’s paw, but her own tiny hand. “Heh heh! You’ve truly met your match.”

Her smug smirk made me giggle. “I guess I have,” I admitted, knowing full well that if Adachi were listening, she’d be over the moon right about now. Perhaps this moment was going to waste out here at my parents’ house. “Come to think of it…didn’t we talk about something like this a long, long time ago?”

“I beg your pardon?”

The way she cocked her head, I was starting to think maybe she forgot. “You told me you thought I was born to meet you.”

“Indeed, I did,” she replied promptly. Apparently, she did remember. “This whole world exists because you met me,” she continued casually.

“…Uh, what?”

“Well, you see… How do I explain this? The world as we know it isn’t actually all that flexible. The living beings that are born each day, the locations of objects, the food we consume—in most cases, these things are the same across all possible worlds. For example, in order for a banana to be a banana, it has to have the components of a banana, yes? Likewise, the world has all the necessary components. Without them, it would lack the framework needed to exist as a world unto itself. So for the most part, all worlds are fundamentally the same. In summary, this world is designed so that you will always find Adachi-san.”

Her voice was still youthful and innocent…and yet, she had become a lot more complicated all of a sudden. Honestly, without any visual aids in front of me, I was only really processing about half of it.

“The only difference between this world and the others is that I am here.” Her hair swayed energetically, its color deepened by the shadow of night. “And there is only one of me.”

That, oddly enough, was a statement I could agree with…in a way I couldn’t quite explain. “You’re a real bigshot, eh?”

“Keh heh heh!”

Yashiro was utterly unafraid. Not from courage or overconfidence—more akin to the way we felt no fear toward things we understood, like cell phones or TVs. Perhaps she possessed a similar understanding of the way the world worked. But setting aside whether my suspicions were correct—

“Well, more accurately, I should say it’s because we’re here.”

“Huh?”

“And the reason we… No, the reason I am here…is because you are here. While all versions of you may look the same at first glance, no other Shimamura-san would have sufficed. That is why I believe you were born to meet me.”

This conversation wasn’t especially complex, and yet, it didn’t feel grounded in reality. To her, she was just stating the facts, but her intentions could be thwarted, depending on who was on the receiving end. It could be incredibly difficult to express yourself clearly to another person; one-sided sincerity was simply not enough.

“So basically…it’s destiny. Is that it?”

“It is destiny indeed.”

Using her pet phrase, we simplified the matter even further.

“Honestly, I don’t really understand that sort of stuff.”

“Nonsense! It is all quite straightforward!” She set her hand back on my shoulder like a wise old sage. “Heh heh! Truly a special encounter.”

…Was it? For a moment, I averted my eyes. What had I gained from bringing Yashiro into my life? Alternatively, if she was right…and I was born to meet her…then what had I really accomplished?

I knew I couldn’t truly answer this hypothetical question, and yet, I couldn’t help but hop aboard this train of thought just to see where it would take me. All I could see was a tiny glimmer of light on the horizon, and all I had to offer was an ordinary, run-of-the-mill response: I had accomplished having a good time with a friend.

I looked back at her and chuckled. “Yeah, I suppose so.” Then I reached out to that tiny glimmer…and stroked her hair.

“Oh, Yachi, there you are!” Just then, my younger sister appeared, wearing her ratty old pajamas with the sloppy sleeves. A hint of steam rose from the gap between her neck and the bath towel slung around it. “Oh, and Nee-chan, too.”

“Yep, I’m here too!” I threw up a playful peace sign, but she ignored me.

“Good grief, Yachi, you have to wait until I dry your hair for you! Now the hallway floor’s all wet!”

“I was feeling overheated, so I came to cool off. Would you care to join us, Little?”

“And be mosquito food? Pass. Now, look here! I’ve got azuki ice cream for you!”

“Eeeeee!”

When my sister revealed the treat hidden behind her back, Yashiro jumped to her feet and ran to her. This gave me yet another strange sense of déjà vu, and as I pondered it, I realized: Adachi had baited Yashiro with ice cream too, just the other day. Then, she scrutinized the small girl and muttered, “What a bizarre little gremlin.”

Over the past ten years, Adachi had expanded her circle of friends ever so slightly. Had she taken even greater strides while I wasn’t looking?

Alone, I faced off against the night sky. This time tomorrow, I’d be looking up at a different sky in a different country… The thought made my breaths hitch with excitement and a tiny hint of fear. Perhaps it would get easier if I went on more trips—but for now, I decided to let my fears and hopes play out while I yearned for the other side of the sky.

Emotions were best enjoyed in the moment, after all.

 

***

 

The next morning, I quietly ate the shredded cabbage I was offered.

“I’m not a rabbit either, you know…”

Meanwhile, a single shred dangled from Yashiro’s lip, dancing in midair.

My sister was still asleep, but I didn’t feel the need to wake her just to say goodbye. Chances were high that we’d see each other again at some point during the summer.

The mood was light in the kitchen that morning. The sunlight that streamed in through the window didn’t yet possess the power to weigh me down; the faint rays lifted the lethargy from my neck and shoulders and set me free.

After I ate my rabbit food, washed my face, got dressed, and threw on some makeup, I sent a message to Adachi. “You awake?”

The reply was immediate: “What about you? You didn’t oversleep again, did you?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be typing right now,” I muttered under my breath. Or maybe she thought I had some kind of superhuman powers. “Hmmm…”

On second thought, I did spend every other day practically sleepwalking through my morning routine. A lot of the time, I’d find myself on the train without knowing how I got there. Imagine, if you will, snapping awake to find yourself on a swaying train and nearly losing your balance. This was probably not the sort of experience the average person could relate to.

“I’m gonna head to the airport,” I told her.

“Me, too.”

I looked at this reply and contemplated the significance of her comma. See, if it were me, I would have written it “Me too.” In a way, it reflected our different personalities… These days, I really enjoyed thinking about these sorts of things. Especially in the dark, since it always put me to sleep.

I headed for the front door, and after I gave each of my bags a sturdy pat, I looked over at Yashiro standing beside my mother.

“What is it?” she asked.

Good, there she is.

“Oh, just checking.”

Wouldn’t want a repeat of last time, after all. I slung my backpack over my shoulder, grabbed the handle of my suitcase, and straightened up. The added weight made me a little unsteady on my feet.

“Well, I gotta get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you.”

My mother waved at me dismissively with one hand while she brushed her teeth with the other. Likewise, Yashiro waved a paw—a lion’s paw, to be exact.

“Travel safely, got it?”

“Got it.”

“And another thing—you really suck at packing, you know that?” my mother sighed as she surveyed the state of my luggage. “I can tell you right now, you won’t need all that!”

“Lay off, would you?”

“It will be a struggle to fit all the souvenirs in there,” Yashiro chimed in.

I never said I was buying any… Eh, whatever. I’ll just buy some chocolates or something. “Hrrrg!” I grunted as I started to drag my heavy suitcase behind me.

“Ha ha, you sound like an old man!”

“Shut up!”

My mother was acting like a child, but it was far too much hassle to turn back and deal with her. I opened the door and a silky breeze rolled in, whisking away the last dregs of my drowsiness.

“Hougetsu!”

Annoyed, I turned back at the sound of my first name. My mother was standing there with her toothbrush in her mouth and her arms folded.

“I sure gave you a good name, if I do say so myself!” she announced proudly.

And? So what? I waited for her to continue. But the only sound was that of Yashiro’s flopping tail. “Uh, hello? Your point?”

“That was all I had to say. Run along now.” She shooed me away.

“Uh…okay…” And so I left the house. “God, why is she like this…?”

She’s always off in her own little world with her own priorities… Then again, they say that about me and Adachi too… No, there’s no way we’re that bad…

“On second thought, that wasn’t all.”

“Whoa!”

The sudden voice made me jump, and my heavy luggage miraculously jumped with me. My mother was now standing directly behind me, wearing her flip-flops and still brushing her teeth. Yashiro toddled after her, almost as an afterthought.

“Enjoy your trip, alright?”

My mother reached out and aggressively ruffled my hair, swiftly undermining the effort I put in to make it look nice. I started to resist, but then I saw just how thin her arms were and came to a stop.

“All that really matters is that you have fun.”

“Okay.”

For a while, I stood there and let her mess with my hair. Once she was satisfied, she grasped the handle of her toothbrush and grinned. “See you.” And with that, she went back into the house, her flip-flops clacking with every step.

“Heh. See youuu,” the little lion echoed, waving. Then she turned and followed after my mother. “By the way, Mama-san, what will you be making for lunch today?”

“Leftovers from last night’s dinner.”

“Yay!”

“You get excited no matter what I say, don’t you? Sure makes my job easier!”

Together, the two of them shared a hearty chuckle. And as I watched the mismatched pair, I realized their smiles were contagious. Now I was smiling too.

“Strange…”

For as long as I could remember, my mother was always an adult, and Yashiro was always a child. Neither of them ever seemed to change; their positions were fixed and immutable. And as I gazed at the walls of the house from a distance, I thought of my sister and father too. That alone was enough to fill my chest with what felt like warm, gentle bathwater.

In the end, it seemed I would never quite “leave the nest” the same way Adachi had.

 

***

 

As mentioned earlier, I hadn’t been to the airport since high school. Why did the sight of the timetable and all its text make me giddy? Red partitions extended all the way to the counters, reflected in the polished floor beneath. A tangled mass of footsteps and mechanical sounds and loudspeaker announcements filled my ears. Unsurprisingly for Golden Week, the place was packed.

I pulled out my cell phone and started to message Adachi, since I had a feeling she was already here—

“Shimamura!”

Before I could type a single word, she beat me to the punch—in person. I looked up, mildly amazed that I managed to hear her in the middle of this crowd, and spotted her walking my way with a gleeful smile creeping up on her face. Any time the two of us made plans to meet somewhere, Adachi was almost always the first to get there. At times, I felt guilty, but no matter how early I arrived, she was always just a little bit earlier.

She jogged over to me easily, unburdened by her comparatively light luggage. I waved and shouted, “Hay, gurl!” in the best American English I could manage.

“Oh, um… Hi, there,” Adachi replied in English to match mine, though her diction wasn’t perfect.

“How would they pronounce your name, anyway? Adotchy?”

“Slow down. We’re not even on the plane yet.”

“Fine, fine.”

She had a point; we were still on the ground in Japan. But something in the air smelled distinctly foreign to me, and if even I could feel it, despite my total lack of experience outside my home country, then surely, it had to be the real deal. Maybe if I asked Hino, she could explain it to me.

“I brushed up on my English in preparation for the trip, so I figured I may as well practice, that’s all.”

“I think you’ll have to study a little harder than that,” Adachi muttered under her breath, but I pretended not to hear it.

Together, we set off side by side, the rolling of my suitcase a pleasing indicator that we were moving forward.

“Your luggage is so huge, it’s practically a landmark,” she commented.

My mother already made fun of me for this, and I could feel myself starting to pout…but instead, I leaned into it. “I’ve brought everything we’ll possibly need, so feel free to ask me anytime,” I declared.

She laughed, then checked her wristwatch. “Looks like we’re good on time. In fact, we’re actually pretty early.”

“Hmmm… Wanna head in and kill time together?”

“Sounds good!” she agreed eagerly. “It’s been years since the last time I flew.”

I started to nod but froze. “I thought you said you forgot about our last trip!”

“I did, but now I remember.” Apparently, her memories flashed on and off like a traffic light.

“Honestly, there’s no way either of us could truly forget.” After all, it was our first big trip together. “So much happened.”

“For sure,” she nodded. This time, she didn’t try to play dumb.

To be clear, I don’t mean to suggest that anything particularly dramatic happened; from an outside perspective, it probably wouldn’t seem like much of a special trip at all. It was a perfectly ordinary school trip that Adachi and I got to experience together. Maybe none of it really mattered in the long run. But if the two of us continued to hold the memory of it in our hearts, then surely it had to mean something, right?

“Oh, yeah, I’m excited to ride the ferry while we’re there!”

“Yeah…”

“And maybe we could do something at the beach.”

As I was counting off all the potential plans I hadn’t quite made, Adachi smiled faintly. Quietly, I was delighted to see that she had gotten better at expressing herself.

After that, we went through customs, and once we arrived at our departure gate, we spent the rest of our time sitting and gazing through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Children pressed their hands and noses up against the glass, eagerly peering outside; I followed their gazes to the airplane idling in the hangar, then let my eyes wander down the long, perfectly straight runway, squinting in the bright sunshine.

“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” I murmured aloud. The sound of it rolled on my tongue, wetting my teeth like a fresh apple.

“We’re not even on the plane yet,” Adachi snickered in response.

“Yeah, that’s true.”

Once we boarded that plane, the two of us would go even farther. For now, what awaited me on the other side of the sea was merely a dream…and I was a little over-eager to make it come true.

Together, we would leap into the sky and travel farther than we ever could as teenagers.