Interlude: Yashiro Comes Calling, Part 6

Interlude:
Yashiro Comes Calling
Part 6

O N MY WAY HOME from school, I bump into Yachi, same as always.

“From now on, I am Yashiemon, the town mascot,” she says to me out of nowhere.

“What are you talking about?”

Other kids from my school turn to look at Yachi as they pass by. Not that I blame them. I mean, just look at her hair! Every time she moves, she scatters sparkles like they’re sakura petals. And her butterfly hair matches the spring season perfectly.

“In order to acclimate myself to this planet and this town, I must first establish myself as an idol of the people.”

“What?” That’s kinda weird. I’m confused.

“After all, I mustn’t let anyone discover that I am an alien.”

She fixes me with a serious look. That’s funny—isn’t that one of the first things you said to me when we first met?

“I am not the same as my compatriot, you see. Keh heh heh.”

“If you say so. Now be honest: do you really not go to school?”

I peer around behind her. No backpack hanging from her shoulders. If she lives in my neighborhood, then you’d think we’d go to the same school, and yet I’ve never seen her there.

“Are you truant?” Just like my big sister, except not anymore.

“Ha ha ha! Don’t be absurd, Little. As I told you, I’ve long since graduated.”

“But you’re smaller than me…”

“No, I am not. It is you who are small,” she declares, standing on her tippy-toes until her legs start to shake. Hey, that’s cheating! I get up on my tippy-toes, too. Then my legs start shaking.

We compete and compete until suddenly Yachi goes “Boing!” and jumps up. Her toes reach my eye level, and…wait, what the? Did I really see that? Confused, I rub my eyes. Meanwhile, she lands back down on the ground.

“It appears I have won.”

“Uhhh…okay…” I bob my head up and down as I think back over what just happened. “Did you just jump, like, ridiculously high?”

“I’d say it was average at best. Anyone could do that.”

Anyone , huh? Because I don’t think I could do that. Judging from her looks, she’s not from Japan, so maybe her whole country is just really good at jumping.

“Now then, Little, I shall pull anything you desire out of my pocket.”

She gestures to her kangaroo pocket, which looks like she sewed it on herself. I peer into it but can’t see anything in there.

“Anything?” I ask.

“Anything,” she nods.

“Okay then, I want strawberry shortcake,” I tell her, since it’s the first thing that comes to mind. Then I hold my hands out and wait. Not that I really expect it to work.

“Storeberry shotcake?”

“No, that’s not what I said… Whatever. It’s a type of cake, okay?”

“Cake?” She tilts her head.

Huh? I tilt mine, too.

“What is cake?”

“You don’t know what cake is?”

“Not at all,” she declares proudly for some reason.

“A cake is shaped like this, and it’s really sweet—well, most of them. My favorite is the normal kind—at least, I think it’s the normal kind? The kind with strawberries and buttercream frosting.”

As she listens to my explanation, Yachi’s eyes shift from left to right. “Hmmm… I’ll need to see it for myself first.”

“You need an example? Okay, um… Oh, they might have them there.” I remember the convenience store that’s just up ahead. Pretty sure they sell little cakes there. But first, I need to make sure: “Can you really pull one from your pocket?”

“Indeed I can.”

She’s talking like…like she can make it out of thin air .

And so the two of us visit the convenience store on the way home. Honestly, we should probably have a grown-up with us, but Yachi insists she’s 680 years old, so we just walk in. Didn’t she say a different number last time? I can’t remember.

Next to the deli section is a row of baked treats. There’s a bunch of different kinds of pudding, but only two kinds of cake: mille crêpe and Mont Blanc. So I take the mille crêpe, since it’s the closest in shape to strawberry shortcake, and show it to Yachi.

“This is what a cake looks like. This one doesn’t have strawberries, though.”

“I see, I see.” She takes it and heads for the register.

“You’re gonna buy it?”

“Well, I need to find out what it tastes like.”

“Do you even have money?” I ask nervously as I follow along behind her. I sure as heck don’t have any money.

“Money…?” Her eyes wander. “Oh, right. That.”

That’s not very reassuring, Yachi.

As we walk up to the register, I feel my whole body get stiff. Usually my mom or sister is with me whenever I need to buy something, but this time there’s no grown-up to hide behind. I have to be the grown-up.

The lady at the register looks like she’s my mom’s age. She’s big and scary. But Yachi acts like she doesn’t even notice. “I would like this cake, please,” she says, placing the cake in front of the lady.

Then she starts digging in her pocket, and while the lady’s staring at her bright blue hair, she pulls out a bear-shaped piggy bank. What the?! That thing is way too big to possibly fit in her pocket! The cashier lady couldn’t see it since the counter was in the way, but I sure saw it! It was like a magic trick!

She dumps some 500-yen coins out, one by one.

“How many of these do you need?”

That’s a weird question. Can’t you see the price sticker right there?

“Just one,” the lady replies stiffly.

“Oh, okay.” And so Yachi puts the rest of the coins back into her piggy bank…and stuffs it into her pocket like it’s the most normal thing ever. What the heck?! I scream silently to myself.

But then she walks off without taking her change, so I take the change from the cashier lady in her place. My heart is pounding like crazy. It feels like I’m pretending to be a grown-up, and my face feels tingly.

Then I dash out of the convenience store and find Yachi. She’s already opened the little plastic container to get at the cake; she cuts off a small bite with her plastic fork and puts it in her mouth.

I never noticed ’til now, but Yachi’s lips are faintly blue. How is that possible? I forget all about giving her her change and stare at her, transfixed. Her eyebrows are really pretty, too. Does she pluck them? What about her hair—does she do anything special to take care of it? How long would it take before it ran out of little blue sparkles?

“This ‘cake’ is quite good. Very sweet,” she declares as she chews. “You should have some, too, Little.”

Then she cuts me a bite and holds it up to my mouth. I debate whether to take the fork, but then I notice the cake starting to slip off, so instead I lean forward real quick and take the bite. The fork’s pointy ends stab into my tongue slightly, but it doesn’t hurt too bad, since it’s just plastic.

Sure enough, the cake is super sweet. As I chew, my heart starts fluttering again. Whenever I’m with Yachi, something crazy is guaranteed to happen. She’s nuttier than a gag manga. I know I’d never eat cake on my way home if it wasn’t for her.

“Would you like another bite?”

“Huh? I mean, it’s your cake. You paid for it.”

“Go on,” she insists, cutting me another bite and holding it up. So I lean forward and let her feed it to me a second time. My sister used to do this for me, too, until I told her to stop treating me like a baby. So why is it okay when it’s Yachi?

Again, the taste of sugar fills my mouth. Meanwhile, I stare at her pale, delicate fingers up close. If I licked them, would they taste like cake, too?

Once I pull away, Yachi puts the fork in her own mouth to eat the rest of the bite. Including the part my lips touched. She chews and chews and chews, and then…

“Now that I understand the shape and flavor, I should be all set. Just a moment.”

She turns her back to me and starts fumbling around in her pocket. Is this gonna be like the piggy bank moment all over again? I try to sneak a peek.

“Whatcha doing?”

“You mustn’t look!” she shouts, like the crane from that one fairytale, and totters away. Then she totters back and thrusts out her hands.

I stare, wide-eyed, at the thing she’s holding.

“Here you are,” she says, offering it to me.

Sure enough, it’s a cake…except she’s holding it directly in her hands. One wrong move and the whole thing will fall apart.

“Whoa, what the heck is that ?!”

“This is the storeberry shotcake you asked for, is it not?”

“Uhhh…not quite…”

I can’t believe it. She really pulled a cake out of her pocket! What kind of magic trick is this? Did she secretly buy a second cake? No, that can’t be possible. I was standing right there the whole time, and she only bought one! But…the cake she’s holding looks picture-perfect…

“Hmmmm…”

I don’t get it. Is it a magic trick? Or is the “magic” in Yachi’s pocket?

“Heh heh heh. Now you will dedicate all your idolizing to me!” she smirks. I don’t think she understands how being an idol actually works.

As I look down at her kangaroo pocket, I frown to myself. All she’s done is make herself look suspicious…

But then again, I wouldn’t want her to change her mind about giving me this cake, so I guess I’ll save my opinion for after we eat it.