Interlude: Yashiro Comes Calling, Part 2

Interlude:
Yashiro Comes Calling
Part 2

 

ONCE I GET HOME, I’ll do my spelling homework, I think to myself as I walk home from school. Then I’ll practice playing my recorder, and after that—

Just then, I hear a “beep beep beep” and glance over my shoulder.

“Whoa!”

It’s Yachi. This is my second time running into her on my way home, and once again, I’m completely caught off-guard. This street runs from the community center to the special education school, and there are pear orchards all around us. But a lot of other kids take this street, and they stare at Yachi whenever she’s around. It’s embarrassing.

Now that it’s winter, she’s wearing a scarf in place of her usual hat. For some reason, the scarf seems heavier than she is. Maybe it’s because she’s so sparkly and floaty. Her butterfly hairstyle is floaty, too. It’s kinda weird.

“You’re Little Shimamura, correct?”

“Um…yeah…?” And what do you mean, little?

“That’s too much of a mouthful. I’m just going to call you Little.”

“That’s not even my name!” Oh well. At least it’s a fun change. Everybody at school only ever calls me Shima-chan. “Are you on your way home from school, Yachi?” I ask. Then I notice that she’s not carrying anything—not even a pack of croquettes like last time.

“I do not attend school. I already graduated many years ago.”

“Lucky!”

“I know, right?” She puffs out her chest proudly, not that she has much of one. I know some grown-ups can be really petite, but still…it kinda feels like she’s lying.

I lean up against the fence outside the special education school. Yachi stands next to me and does the same. But unlike the chipped blue paint on the fence, Yachi’s sparkles are bright and shiny. Farm-fresh, as they say.

For some reason the two of us are friends now, even though she totally chased me around when we first met… Oh well. She did give me that croquette, I guess.

“I have a question.”

“What is it?” she asks politely, though her diction could use some work.

“Are you really an alien?”

She clucks her tongue and wags her index finger in my face. “Of course I am. I’ve never told a lie in my life.”

Grrrr. Are you saying my sister’s a liar, then?

“Prove it. Prove to me that you’re an alien!” I cup my hands together and hold them out like she’s going to pour water into them or something.

She smirks and wags her finger again. “To do so would violate our code of ethics, and so I must decline.”

“Aww, c’mon!”

“Intergalactic policy is very strict.”

“Grrrr…fine then. Rules are rules, I guess.”

I feel like she’s just making excuses. Maybe she is lying. But then again, she’s bright blue…

“Oh? What’s that?”

Yachi grabs the recorder case poking out from inside my backpack and yanks hard. The backpack straps dig into my shoulders. Meanwhile, her hair sparkles fly everywhere with the movement. Whoa.

“Don’t you know what a recorder is?”

“A…recorder…?”

If she doesn’t know what a recorder is, then there’s no way she graduated from elementary school. She takes the recorder out of its case and taps on it with her fingers.

“It’s a musical instrument. You hold it like this, and put your mouth there, and then you blow,” I explain without thinking, because explaining stuff makes me feel cool.

“Oh, I see.” Yachi dutifully follows my instructions.

I don’t normally let other people play my recorder, but with her, I don’t mind. Is it because she seems so…pure? She has this faint chill about her—not like winter wind, but more like a fresh mountain spring. Like an ice sculpture, except she’s warm and alive.

She puts her mouth on the mouthpiece and goes FWEEEEoooEEEEoooEEEE—

“Aaaagh!” It’s so loud and shrill, I cover my ears. You don’t have to blow it that hard!

“Oooh…oh…” Yachi seems a bit dizzy herself, and I can’t help but giggle.

She has this confident, can-do attitude about her, but when it comes down to it, she struggles with stuff like any normal girl. Huh…I guess that means she is a normal girl. Somehow I feel like I can relate to her more.

“What an intense form of music.”

“Only because you blew it too hard!”

I guess she really doesn’t know what a recorder is. But why not? I’m so curious about her life now.

“You have to blow out more slowly than that.”

“Oh, it’s nearly time for bargain hour. I’d better be going.”

Yachi pushes herself off the fence and hands me my recorder back. “Bargain hour”? Like, at the grocery store? Or the butcher’s shop, maybe? Here I thought I would get to teach her how to play the recorder. Now I’m a little disappointed.

Wait… How does she know what time it is when she didn’t even look at a watch or anything?

She turns back and waves at me with a smile. But right before I can yell goodbye—

“×▲△★Å♭々θ!”

“Whuh?” I freeze, stunned, my eyes wide. What the heck was that sound?!

“Whoops. Force of habit. Goodbye!”

Still waving, she dances down the street, zig-zagging along until she’s out of sight.

“Hey! HEY!” I shout after her, but she’s too fast for me, so I give up. “Nnngh.”

Personally, I’m more curious what that sound was. I’ve never heard any words like that before… On second thought, I’m not sure they were words at all. It didn’t sound like they came out of her mouth, but instead transmitted directly to my ears somehow.

Was it English? French? Or…could it be…

“Alienese?”

As I tilt my head in confusion, Yachi’s trail of sparkles float into my nose and eyes. I wipe them away with my fingers, then blow them off into the air, where they rise up and slowly disappear. Is she really an alien, or is she just playing pretend? Either way, there was something fishy about her.

And by “something,” I mean a lot of things.