Chapter 2: Fishing for the Future

Adachi and Shimamuralightnovel — LNCrawler · All chapters

Chapter 2:
Fishing for the Future

“O OH, CLASSIC! Truly, this woman hails from the land of Shimamura!”

“Sounds like a nice place. I should move there.”

I pinched the fabric of my culottes and stared down at them. What part of this outfit gave her Shimamura Co. vibes? I hardly ever bought clothes there, but that didn’t matter, apparently. Hino thinks she can treat me like their poster child, just because we have the same name.

So, there I was, at the fishing hole with Hino bright and early Sunday morning. We originally made plans to fish on Saturday, but then it rained, so we postponed it. Fortunately, I didn’t have plans today either, so it worked out.

I hadn’t brought any fishing gear, but as it turned out, Hino dressed fairly normally. I expected her to show up wearing one of those vests with all the pockets on the front, but nope—the most eye-catching thing she wore was an oversized straw hat. Smirking, she fiddled with the brim.

“Call me Sanpei the Fisher Girl.”

“Who?”

“You haven’t heard of Sanpei ? Good grief. Kids these days,” she sighed. Two seconds later, her sunny smile returned in a flash of inspiration. “She just don’t know what Hi-knows! Get it?”

“Oh my god, shut up.”

And so, the Punmaster led me out behind the local elementary school. I’d gone to a different elementary, so I had no idea that there was a fishing hole out here.

Next to the pond was a little store that sold school uniforms and whatnot. We stood beside it in the shade it afforded. Cirrocumulus clouds peppered the autumn sky, and the temperature was relatively mild, but the sun’s rays still retained the strength of summer. I was right to bring a parasol.

“Where’s Nagafuji? I know she was busy with club stuff on Saturday, but what about today?”

“I invited her, but she said she hates fish. This is the fifth time she’s shot me down!” Hino exclaimed gleefully, holding up her hand in a “five” gesture.

That made sense; Nagafuji was more of a “burgers and curry” kind of gal. Mild curry only, though. Absently, I wondered about Adachi’s preferences, thinking back to her clear skin and the way she chugged her mineral water.

“Now, I humbly present you with this 300-yen fishing rod I bought from a priest at the flea market.”

“Gee, I’m so… honored . Thanks,” I replied as I accepted the rod. It was thin and had a simple design—as though someone had just taken a tree branch they found on the ground and painted it black. I probably wouldn’t have known that it was a fishing rod if no one had told me outright. Hino’s rod, meanwhile, was shorter and made of bamboo.

“For the record, this one is a rental. 500 yen per day.”

“You rented it? When? From where?”

“It’s a mystery.”

Apparently, that was all she had to say about it. She reached into her bag and fumbled around as though she were looking for something.

“By the way, Shimamura-chan…”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not gonna start chickening out about having to bait your hook, are you?”

She pulled out a small tackle box and opened the lid to reveal that the box was crammed full of lively little worms, wriggling and squirming and—

I leapt back as the blood drained from my face. She grabbed one between her thumb and index finger and shot me a concerned smile.

“You can’t handle a few creepy-crawlies?”

“No way. Noooo way .” I held my hands up defensively. Frankly, it was a miracle I didn’t scream.

“Fine, fine, if you insist…”

She closed the worm box and took out a different one. I braced myself for some other variety of gross, but when she opened the box, all it held was some sort of yellow putty. Fish eat this?

“I made some paste bait for us yesterday. You can have some.”

“Paste…? I have no idea what I’m looking at, but thanks.” I’d take literally anything over having to touch a worm. “What’s it made of?”

“Wheat flour, water, eggs…plus a bit of my special sauce. Some people use ground-up salmon roe.”

“ Salmon roe ? What a waste,” I mused. I’d sooner eat it myself.

“I also brought you a big ol’ bucket, so feel free to hook as many as you can catch! Aren’t you excited?!” she shouted, shooting me a thumbs-up as she handed me the metal bucket. Is that supposed to be sarcasm?

After we baited our hooks, we positioned ourselves on one of the bamboo platforms around the pond, then cast our lines. I say “pond,” but really, this so-called fishing hole was more of a glorified puddle. Seriously, I’ve seen kiddie pools bigger than this. The water was murky, its depths unknown.

“I feel like it’d be faster to wade in and grab the fish with our bare hands,” I joked, extending my leg as though I was going to dip my toe in.

“You’ll come out covered in leeches, but by all means, knock yourself out.”

I retracted my leg at the speed of light. On second thought, I think I’ll stick to the slow method. For a moment, I stared out at the water’s surface. I was already bored of holding the parasol, so I started spinning it.

Five or so minutes went by.

“So, what’s Adachi like?” Hino asked out of nowhere.

I cocked my head in confusion. Talk about random. “Uh, I don’t know… Normal?”

“That’s not much of an answer, Shima-moo.”

Ugh, don’t give me a weird nickname. Well, anything’s better than Shimamura, I guess. “Why do you want to know about her?”

“Just curious, that’s all. It’s not every day you get to meet a capital-D delinquent!” Hino gave a goofy little laugh.

Adachi didn’t strike me as a “capital-D” delinquent, though. All she really did was cut class, albeit to an extreme degree. Outside of that, she wasn’t much different from any other girl. She didn’t do anything gossip-worthy. Actually, she’s even more scared of creepy-crawlies than I am.

“C’mon. You know her better than anyone else, right?” Hino prompted.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Then again, now that I think about it, Adachi did say I’m her only friend. “Actually, maybe so.”

“Make up your mind, would you?! Look…I just want to get to know your other friends, that’s all.”

“Right.”

“And if you like her, then she must be pretty cool.”

“Right…”

I liked Hino’s unwavering optimism, I really did, but I just wasn’t sure Adachi would want to make friends with her. Adachi didn’t strike me as the type to enjoy having a bunch of friends; I couldn’t picture her opening up like that. Yet, for some reason, she seemed to think I was the antisocial one. Me, of all people. Yeah, right.

Crawly critters aside, I enjoyed lots of things. Like staring at the sky, or eating sweets. I liked Rilakkuma and Mickey Mouse, too. Wait… None of those are people… Okay, forget those.

“Well? What’s she like?”

“Mmm…I’m not sure where to start. Honestly, I don’t really know that much about her myself.”

For example, I had no idea how Adachi spent her Sundays. I decided to stick to inoffensive subjects like her neighborhood and favorite foods.

“She really likes to drink water. Especially mineral water. She doesn’t seem to care what brand.”

Not that there were a lot of brands to choose from. The school vending machines only stocked Crystal Geyser, so that’s what she drank.

“I see. So, she’s a Namekian.”

“Maybe. I haven’t seen her regrow any arms, though. Oh, and she lives over that way.”

“Interesting.” Hino nodded pensively.

In the interest of protecting Adachi’s privacy, I was making an active effort to keep things vague—so vague, in fact, that I wasn’t sure they were all that useful. If Hino still found them interesting, however, then maybe I didn’t need to worry after all. Meh, Hino probably just wants to win Adachi over by buying treats for her. Who knows if it’ll work, though?

Come to think of it, the whole reason had Hino invited me out here in the first place was to meet some astronaut LARPer. The fishing part was just supposed to be a side perk. So, where was my promised weirdo? There were a few other people at the fishing hole, but they all looked like ordinary dudes in their forties or fifties. Did the spaceman have other business today? Not that I especially wanted to meet them. I was fine spending a peaceful day standing around.

But, the very next moment, a voice directly behind me asked, “Anything biting?”

I was so startled, I almost dropped my fishing pole. Then I turned around and jumped out of my skin again . This time, I nearly fell backward into the pond.

Standing there was a person wearing a bright-white space suit. Needless to say, they stuck out like a sore thumb.

“Oh, hey, there you are!” Hino greeted the astronaut. “Glad you could make it today. Otherwise, I would’ve dragged Shimamura out here for nothing!”

So, this is the weirdo Hino was talking about. That’s right—I think she mentioned that they wore a space suit. I wasn’t really paying attention then.

“Krrrssshhh…krrrssshhh…” The astronaut made weird breathing sounds through their helmet.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” I said. “They’re weird, all right.”

Light glinted off the space suit’s opaque visor, blinding me. The whole suit was rather simple in design, not unlike my fishing pole. Although the helmet succeeded in concealing the astronaut’s face, it was obvious from their voice that they were female. Judging from her height, she was probably a grade schooler… But, if so, I was getting a little concerned about where she was headed in life. If she was an adult, there was no hope left for her.

“Who might this be?”

Everything from the neck up pivoted from me to Hino and back. On first glance, the total lack of exposed skin gave me the impression that the suit was bulky and restrictive, but the astronaut’s movements were surprisingly fluid. Maybe her space suit wasn’t as heavy as a real one.

“This is the Shimamura.”

“What’s that supposed to mean…?”

Ignoring my indignant question, Astronaut Girl stared up at me curiously. “Aha… We meet at last.”

I didn’t want to have to call her “Astronaut Girl” for the rest of time, so I decided to put myself out there and ask for her name directly.

“So, uhhh…what’s your name?”

It was a fairly mundane question, and yet her visor seemed to glint smugly in the sunlight.

“Heh heh heh! Unlike my foolish compatriot, I made sure to think of a name in advance!”

For some reason, she sounded very proud of this.

She put her hands on her hips and declared, “You may call me Chikama Yashiro! Krrrssshhh…krrrssshhh…”

Chikama Yashiro. What a weird name. Not that it was any weirder than her breathing noises, mind you. She had a fishing pole slung over her shoulder, so evidently she was here to fish, just like we were. The middle-aged fishermen didn’t seem surprised to see her, either. Why would an astronaut have fishing gear, anyway?

Needless to say, it was pretty surreal.

“I’ve come to Planet Earth in search of my compatriot.”

“Your what now?” Oh, I get it. Her friend, in other words. Wait, did she just say “Planet Earth”?

“My compatriot came to this planet on a mission and hasn’t returned. Thus, I was dispatched as the search party, but it appears I’ve landed in the wrong spot. Krrrssshhh…krrrssshhh…”

The longer her sentences, the heavier her breathing. You know, you wouldn’t have such a hard time getting oxygen if you just took the helmet off. Is your buddy wearing the same outfit? That should make them easy to spot, at least.

Surrounded by this oppressive awkwardness, I really wasn’t sure how to respond. Then Hino clapped me on the shoulder. “Alrighty then! Have fun communicating with the unknown!”

“What?”

“Ooh, I’m getting a reading on my fish-dar! Signs of life waaaay over there!”

Hino wandered away, babbling to herself. I was half-tempted to grab Chikama Yashiro by the scruff of the neck and shout, “YOU FORGOT YOUR WEIRDO!” But then I realized the real reason Hino had brought me here: she wanted me to babysit this kid. I was the bait.

Meanwhile, for some reason, Chikama Yashiro was setting up camp next to me. Her worms were so wriggly, she’d probably found them on the ground right there. And, although she wore gloves as part of her costume, I was still impressed by how comfortable she was spearing the worms with her hook.

“So, you’re Shimamura-san, eh?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. I guess Hino told you about me?”

I hoped to find out what exactly Hino said to her, but somehow doubted I’d get a straight answer.

“I’m told the natives visit you frequently. You must be popular.”

“That’s the other Shimamura, not me,” I corrected her as I cast my line. I did not want her mistaking me for Shimamura Co.

“No need to be modest. Oh, but just so we’re clear, I am not one of the natives. I came here from the future.”

“And I came here from the past. Nice to meet you.”

Whatever, I’m gonna roll with it. She’s not just weird, she’s nuttier than a fruitcake. And there’s more than one of them? I’m starting to think Planet Earth is in trouble.

“You appear to be an ordinary Earthling.”

“Yep.”

“Krrrssshhh…krrrssshhh…”

“You can take your helmet off, you know.”

But this self-proclaimed “time traveler” simply shook her head. “My face isn’t ready yet. It needs more time.”

“What is this, Anpanman ?”

I was already tired of the girl. With every passing minute, I envied Hino more and more. Meanwhile, she was on the opposite bank, deftly hauling up one fish after another. She spotted me looking at her and smirked down her nose at me. God, I want to punch you.

Still, I had to hand it to her: she had turned her lame excuse into the truth through sheer talent. Somehow, she saw through these murky depths to the treasure lurking within. No amateur could manage that.

I glanced out of the corner of my eye at the weirdo next to me to see how she was doing. She was enjoying a peaceful moment, waiting for the fish to bite. Wait, what?

“Don’t you need to go look for your friend—I mean, compatriot?” I asked.

“I have grown hungry,” she replied matter-of-factly.

Something about it struck me as poetic. Pretty delusional of me, I know.

“Now that I have confirmed my compatriot’s relative safety, I feel comfortable taking a moment to relax.”

“Oh. So, you got in touch with them?” I asked casually.

There was a long pause.

“Well… Something to that effect.”

What are you trying to imply? And for that matter —

“If you’ve already made contact with them, can’t you just meet up whenever you want?”

“There are…extenuating circumstances,” she replied quickly, then got really quiet, as though she was trying to be mysterious. Personally, I appreciated the silence, but her sudden change of attitude made me curious. That said, I strongly doubted that any further questions I asked would lead to answers that made sense. One look at the space suit, and that much was obvious.

As for my fishing line, it wasn’t even twitching. This is boring.

“Seems like nothing’s biting, huh?”

“Yes, that’s the perfect mindset.”

“What?”

“When nothing’s biting, when it’s not going very well, that means there is infinite potential for change,” Chikama Yashiro explained. She hauled up her line, expertly cutting through the water, only to reveal a barren hook. Then she happily cast the line back into the pond. Were you just practicing or what?

Meanwhile, Ms. Straw Hat on the other bank was having the time of her life, shouting “FISH!” with every catch.

“From there, all that’s left is to cast your line and hope for a better future,” the astronaut continued optimistically, gazing out at her line as her stomach rumbled. If I ignored all the nutjob comments she made earlier, that almost sounded like good advice that could apply in a lot of cases.

For example, the stuffy gym loft.

Maybe I just have to put myself out there.

***

“And that’s the gist of what happened,” I finished, after recounting Sunday’s events to Adachi at lunch on Monday.

“Huh,” she replied, sounding less than interested. Her voice was as dry as a pile of autumn leaves.

“Oh, I’m sorry, was I boring you?”

For the record, Chikama Yashiro ended up catching five, maybe six fish. I wonder if she actually ate them.

“No, you weren’t boring me. Don’t be so passive-aggressive.”

“You’re right. Sorry.”

Adachi and I were hanging out in the gym loft, as usual. No sign of Hino or Nagafuji, and I got the sense that Adachi was happy about that. For me, it was a lot easier not having to play mediator between her and the others. My friendship with Adachi was just too different from the one I shared with them.

Was it my fault, or was it Adachi’s fault?

I decided not to think about it.

I sat with my back against the wall and my legs splayed out; she lay on the floor, using my thigh as a pillow. Supposedly things had gotten hectic at her part-time job last night, so she was exhausted. That surprised me somewhat, because I didn’t know she had a part-time job at all. Now I know what she gets up to on her days off.

“Where do you work, anyway?”

“Not telling,” she shot back, rolling onto her side. Her cheek felt nice and cool against my skin.

“Aww, why not?”

“Because I know you’ll come see me.”

“You’re right. I totally would.”

“Well, I don’t want you to. It’s too embarrassing.”

She pushed her face against my leg, and her silky hair fell like a curtain, concealing most of her expression. I grabbed a lock of hair and ran it through my fingers; it slipped away so fast, it practically evaporated.

“Aww, c’mon! There’s nothing to be ashamed of! If anything, you should be proud to have a job!” I insisted, patronizingly stroking her hair as a joke. I expected her to slap my hand away, but…she didn’t. Maybe she was just too tired to fight it.

Her jacket hung from the ping-pong table, where she’d thrown it, and her shoes lay scattered on the floor. Absolutely no sense of decorum, this one.

She rolled over to face me, her cheek brushing my skirt. I squirmed slightly as gravity pulled her hair down onto my leg, tickling me. Meanwhile, Adachi stared blankly at my stomach area, blinking hard, as though she was trying to will away drowsiness. Her nose twitched slightly, and she smiled.

“I think I like facing this way the best.”

“Yeah?” Personally, I figured the limited field of vision would feel claustrophobic.

Adachi leaned closer, her nose in the air. “Yeah… This way I can smell your scent.”

“Wait, what? Do I stink or something?” That was news to me. I felt my self-esteem getting ready to plummet.

“That’s not what I mean… Fine, I won’t do it, then.”

What? Why is she pouting all of a sudden?

“Shimamura, you have no class.”

“No class? Hmm. No one’s ever said that to me, either.”

“Classiness” was a concept I rarely encountered in my day-to-day life. Out in the sticks, we were about as uncultured as you could get.

Adachi and I were twenty minutes into lunch break, and we still hadn’t eaten. Even if I wanted to go grab food, Adachi was using me as a pillow, so I couldn’t move. After all, she hardly ever showed affection like this; it’d be cruel to shove her off, onto the floor.

I looked back at the clock, even though I’d only just checked it. Somehow, I dreaded every tick of the second hand. Soon lunch would end, cleanup would begin…and then what?

“Hey, Adachi?”

“Hmm?” she responded softly, without looking up.

“Wanna go to class with me after lunch?” I asked, stroking her hair.

She raised her head, then pushed herself up off the floor. Toying with her hair, she peered into my eyes. “Where’d that come from?”

“Well, you need to attend class a certain number of days, or else… I mean, wouldn’t it be more fun to pass our first year and be second-years together?”

There was no telling whether we’d end up in the same class again, but passing together would at least be less awkward than Adachi getting held back. I mean, the idea of her being junior to me was kind of funny to think about, but when I imagined myself as her senpai, it didn’t feel right.

Then again, I hadn’t exactly kept track of her attendance, so it was possible she’d already exceeded the maximum permissible absences. Still, I’d meant to suggest this idea for a while.

First I started skipping class, then I met Adachi, then I started asking her to go to class with me. Something about that felt distinctly out of order, or maybe inconsistent. But I couldn’t just kick back and enjoy the status quo. Not while the threat of flunking loomed on the horizon.

I attended this school on my family’s dime, not my own. If I got held back, they’d probably throw me out on the street. They were typically fairly hands-off, which is why they expected me to behave responsibly. Failure to do so would result in harsh consequences.

“Uhh…well…”

Scratching her cheek, Adachi looked around, surveying the loft. Once she’d had her fill, she collapsed back onto my leg. Apparently, she liked it there.

“Sure… I guess it can’t hurt every now and then,” she conceded.

Of course, that wasn’t very convincing coming from the girl sprawled out in lounge mode on the floor. But at least she hadn’t said no. I knew she generally acted on a whim, and since she specified “every now and then,” chances were high that she’d go right back to skipping class the next day. Nevertheless, something about this felt reassuring, almost like a cool breeze had blown through the stuffy loft.

“In that case, we should go somewhere after class,” Adachi suggested, raising her head. She sounded enthusiastic, which was a good sign. “Got any plans with anyone?”

“Nope, not today. To be honest, I almost never have plans.”

“Gotcha.” She rested her head back onto my thigh…in relief? Truth be told, my whole leg was starting to go numb, but whatever.

The idea of going somewhere with Adachi was actually kind of a novelty. After all, she was usually already gone by the time the final bell rang.

“Okay then, how about we stop by the place where you work?”

“I told you, I don’t want you to visit!”

She turned her back to me, pouting. It reminded me of a little kid who didn’t want their mom to visit them at school. I understood the feeling, though; if it were me, I’d probably be just as opposed. High school was basically its own separate society, and it was always weird to see elements leak out into the “real” world. I could imagine why some people would want to live at school full-time.

But I digress.

I wanted a better future, so I cast my line in Adachi’s direction. Not that I was actually taking cues from that time-traveling astronaut or anything.

“Looks like I landed a big one,” I murmured. But the way Adachi had settled on my lap reminded me less of a fish and more of a puppy.

Yep, she definitely likes it there.

***

When we entered the classroom, we attracted a bit of attention—probably because Adachi had actually shown up for class, plus I was with her. We were both seen as bad kids, after all.

Biting back a yawn, Adachi looked around the classroom. Did she forget where she’s supposed to sit? Her desk was by the door, right at the very front. As for me, I sat over by the windows, three desks down. Because our assigned seats were so far apart, we ended up going our separate ways soon after walking in.

Once I sat down, I started taking out materials for our next class. Then it hit me. Did Adachi bring her textbook? Curious, I glanced over…and saw her desk stacked high with every single textbook for every single class. Apparently, she’d left them all in the classroom.

Once she found the right one, she put the others back, then leaned her elbow on her desk with her face in her palm. She evidently didn’t feel like getting out a pencil or anything else. She glanced over at the windows—probably at me. It was so sudden that I didn’t look away in time.

She seemed surprised to find me peering at her, but it was too late to look away. So, instead, we exchanged silent “What?” looks a dozen or so times. I was admittedly the one who started it, so logically, it was up to me to answer the question…but how? I couldn’t exactly shout across the classroom at her.

Instead, I pointed to her textbook. Maybe that way she would understand why I was looking at her. She lowered her gaze and stared at the book for a moment. Meanwhile, I admired the symmetrical slope of her face in profile.

She looked back at me and mouthed something I couldn’t quite catch, so she repeated it. Did you forget your textbook?

Much as I wanted to take offense at that, I couldn’t exactly pretend that I was an honor student. To Adachi and everyone else, there was no notable difference between us. That was my fault, 100 percent.

The teacher walked in. He seemed surprised to see both me and Adachi at our desks; he shot us each a curious glance, but otherwise said nothing as he walked to the lectern and stood behind it.

Class started, and I wondered just how long it had been since Adachi and I last shared a classroom. Her attendance had been a bit better during first semester, but naturally I hadn’t paid attention to her then. Now, however, I was extremely, weirdly conscious of her. Terrified that she might catch me looking again, I focused all my energy into not glancing in her direction. Instead, I simply followed along with whatever the teacher wrote on the chalkboard.

As my eyes and hand moved on autopilot, my brain was left to twiddle its thumbs. In my boredom, I found myself wondering why I couldn’t get a read on the emotional distance between myself and Adachi. Was it because one of us was unstable?

That was all that occupied my thoughts as I copied down my notes like a robot.

***

“How’d it feel to be back in class after so long?”

“History class was great, but math… I have no idea how to do anything anymore.”

“Ha ha ha… Oh, you…”

I didn’t know how to do anything in math either, and I went to class way more often than she did. Maybe I’m just a more right-brained person. Yeah, that’s it.

After school, as per our agreement, Adachi and I left together. Once again, her bookbag was practically empty.

“Everybody was looking at you today, huh, Shimamura?” she commented, glancing back down the hallway at the classroom door. I hadn’t noticed.

“Nah. They were probably looking at you .”

“Nope. It was you,” she insisted firmly.

How does she know that for a fact? I don’t get it.

“Probably because you’re so beautiful,” she continued casually. I was caught so completely off-guard that I nearly walked straight into the wall ahead of me. I jumped back in the nick of time and almost lost my balance.

“Having fun over there?” Adachi asked dryly, one foot on the stairs. Don’t you laugh at me! This is YOUR fault!

“I’ve just…never been called beautiful before, that’s all.” My relatives had called me “pretty” in the past, but they were only being nice.

“Really? Not even by your boyfriend?”

“I’ve never had one.”

“Huh,” Adachi replied, as though she was unsure how to react to that information. She looked up, her expression stoic. “I guess they’re all blind idiots, then.”

Right back at you, I wanted to say, but I didn’t want to shoot down her compliment.

At the bottom of the staircase, we arrived at the shoe lockers. “So, where do you want to go?” I asked, changing the subject.

“We didn’t eat lunch today, so I’m kinda hungry,” Adachi answered as she changed into her outdoor shoes.

“Okay then, wanna grab a bite somewhere?”

She glanced around pensively, rubbing her stomach. “I could go for something simple, like donuts.”

“Donuts, huh? Okay then, let’s go. The closest place is over by the train station.”

We left the school building and started walking. Although the station square was a bit far from here, I didn’t mind.

But when we reached the school gates, and Adachi was still standing next to me, I couldn’t help but ask, “Uh, what about your bike?”

“I didn’t take it to school today. Had to get it repaired.” She acted as if that was no big deal, but I knew the walk from her house was pretty lengthy.

“Whoa… I’m kinda impressed that you’d bother walking all this way to school. Y’know, since you’re a delinquent and all. Good for you!” I joked.

But she didn’t even crack a smile. Instead, she shrank down and mumbled, “Well… I thought maybe you’d be here.”

She was practically implying that I was the entire reason she bothered to show up. Embarrassed, I fumbled for a response. “Y-yeah.”

Unfortunately, my awkwardness seemed to make Adachi feel awkward, too; she turned a bit red in the face. Or maybe I was just seeing things. What is this weird tension between us?

My whole body grew uncomfortably stiff, like a piece of beef jerky, as we walked to the station in uneasy silence. I wasn’t even that tired, yet my legs felt like lead. Every now and then, I felt a gaze. When I turned to look, sure enough, our eyes would meet. Then, like clockwork, we’d both immediately look away.

What is this? What is happening right now?

We carried that bizarre tension all the way to the station—a shabby, two-story building frequented by students and adults alike. Once we’d stepped inside, we walked straight into the Mister Donut to the left of the entrance. The shop was crammed full of train commuters both young and old, so there was nowhere for us to sit. Worse still, there was a long line at the register.

“Looks like everybody wants donuts today,” I mused, glancing around.

That finally got a smile out of Adachi. “I love the way it smells in here. Nice and sugary.” She took a big sniff of the cloying fragrance that permeated the store—so thick, it was practically a meal all on its own.

“Reminds me of ants on honey.”

At that, Adachi grimaced. “Gross. I do not like that analogy.”

Right. I forgot how much she hates bugs. At least now we’re actually talking to each other, though.

“Which one are you gonna get?” she asked, enthusiasm steadily returning to her voice and body language. Seriously, we had both been total stone statues on the way to the train station, so it was refreshing to see her acting like a human again…not to mention a major relief.

“I always have a hard time choosing, but I’ll probably get an Angel French. Plus two extras to take home to my little sister.”

Whenever I approached the counter, I was prone to getting distracted by all the appetizing options, but ultimately I always fell back on the Angel French donut. My mom bought them for me as a treat when I was little, so at this point they were probably imprinted in my brain as a comfort food or something.

“You too, huh?” Adachi struck a pensive pose. Was she going to get the same donut?

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Well, I don’t want to order the same thing.”

“Why not? What’s the harm?”

“Mmmm…I’ll just get this one.” She took a Honey Dip donut from the lower rack as she spoke. I guess she doesn’t want to seem like a copycat. As we waited in line, carrying our chosen donuts on a tray, she asked me, “Are you going to class again tomorrow?”

“Yeah, probably. Wouldn’t want them to think I’ve given up entirely, you know.”

“Gotcha.”

That wasn’t to suggest that I was never going back to the loft, or anything like that; Adachi and I would have plenty more opportunities to hang out.

Smirking at her curt response, I peered into her eyes. “Care to join me, Adachi-san?” I asked her in my best theatrical voice.

For a moment she seemed caught off-guard, but then she laughed. “Sure, maybe just for a few more days.”

Despite her surprise, she didn’t put up much resistance to the proposal. She was like me; she skipped school for no deeper reason than because she felt like it. And now she simply felt like attending class for a change.

After a loooong wait, we paid for our food and left. Once we were outside, we found a free spot near the escalators and decided to eat our donuts leaning against the wall. Adachi took out my Angel French, opened the wrapper, curled a napkin underneath, and handed it to me.

“Thanks.” I took the donut and immediately sank my teeth into the chocolate dip. “Mmm, sugar.”

I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast that morning. The donut overloaded my taste buds with an intensity only matched by sour candy—though the flavor was completely different, of course. It was so good. The blissful sweetness danced across my tongue and teeth.

Meanwhile, Adachi ate her donut by pulling it apart one piece at a time. While her method certainly looked more elegant, it was an easy way to get your fingers sticky, which is why I preferred to bite the donut directly. Then again, my method usually ends with me getting sugar all over my face, so I guess it evens out.

“That reminds me—Hino asked about you yesterday,” I told her as we ate. She fell still and looked away.

“Which one is Hino again? The short one?”

“Yeah, the shorter one. She said she wants to get to know you.”

“Gotcha.”

“Yeah… I figured you wouldn’t be interested,” I muttered under my breath. Evidently, Hino had her work cut out for her. But, then, how did I make friends with Adachi so easily? I wasn’t sure what it was about me specifically that set me apart.

“So, you said you have a little sister?”

I debated whether to let Adachi change the subject, then ultimately decided to go along with it. “Yeah, I do.”

“How old?”

“She’s in fourth grade. But, to me, she’s just a baby.”

According to my mom, my sister acted a lot different when she wasn’t at home. She was apparently a model student at school—soft-spoken and mature. That was nothing like the way she acted at our house, where she often unleashed her “ultimate attacks” on me mercilessly. The stark contrast actually reminded me of Adachi, in a way.

“A mini-Shimamura, huh…? I bet she’s cute.”

“She is…when she’s not kicking me or being a brat,” I answered absently.

“Lucky,” Adachi murmured, smiling softly. Maybe she’d always wanted a sibling or something. I guess that means she’s an only child.

She tore off another piece of her donut and offered it to me. “Want some?”

“Oh, um…sure.”

I leaned forward and bit the donut piece right out from between her fingers. The honey glaze’s sweetness spread across my tongue, making my teeth ache. It was even more sugary than my Angel French’s cream filling.

“You can have some of mine, too,” I said, offering her my half-eaten donut. She stared at it, unmoving. What’s the problem? I wondered, looking down at the donut with her. Then I realized. “Ohhh, I get it.” I took another small bite so that the cream filling was clearly visible, then offered her the donut again. “This is what you wanted, right?”

“Okay then…since you’re offering,” she replied vaguely.

She took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. It was strikingly elegant for a girl who never bothered to wear her uniform properly, and I wondered if perhaps Adachi’s parents were strict with her at home.

“Where do you want to go after we’re done?” I asked her, wiping the sugar from the corners of my mouth.

The train station had plenty of restaurants where businessmen could get drunk after a hard day at the office. However, not many places targeted a teenage demographic. In addition to the Mister Donut, the first floor had a grocery store, a bakery, and a MOS Burger—nothing but food, food, and more food. There was also a Matsumotokiyoshi, but I didn’t really feel the need to wander through a drugstore.

“Not a lot of places to shop around here, huh?” Adachi commented.

“I know, right? This place is nothing like Nagoya.”

“Yeah, but Nagoya’s always so crowded. I think I like it better here,” she laughed. I could agree with the first half of that, at least. I popped the rest of my donut into my mouth and zoned out while I waited for Adachi to finish hers.

In elementary school, my teachers always wrote “inattentive; lacks focus” on my report cards. To be honest, they weren’t wrong. My mind loved to wander; whenever there was a quiet period, I always ended up lost in thought. I lived for the moment when a daydream took root, whisking me away from the five senses chaining me to reality. In that regard, maybe I preferred being alone. After all, spacing out while in another person’s company was generally frowned upon.

“Okay, I’m done,” Adachi announced, wiping her hands with a napkin. At times like these, I envied her mostly-empty bookbag.

“All right then, uh…let’s go.”

We didn’t have a set destination in mind, but we set off walking nonetheless. Our legs moved automatically, carrying us to the exit.

If I’d come to the train station alone, I would have wandered around absently, then gone home when my feet started to hurt. But today I had Adachi with me, and that meant I had to consider her needs, in case she had a bad time. The longer I was obligated to spend time thinking about that, the more it started to feel like work . Hanging out with people was always a little miserable for me because of that.

Being considerate, dealing with problems, repairing or ending friendships… So much emotional labor. Yet I knew the key to happiness hid somewhere underneath all that misery, like a child’s toy lying forgotten in the backyard.

I wanted to believe that meeting Adachi had changed my future for the better.

As we walked outside the station, I felt a sudden squeeze. I couldn’t speak—I was too shocked. Instead, I stopped short and turned to look.

Adachi had grabbed me by the hand. Her gaze flitted around timidly, as though she was trying to gauge my reaction.

Now, if that had happened because I’d zoned out to the point that I was about to walk into traffic, it would’ve made sense. But that wasn’t the case.

“Oh, uh, I can let go if it bothers you. Just let me know,” Adachi blurted out.

Her nervous energy made me nervous, too. I looked from the station building to the border fence to the “Under Construction” sign hanging from the overpass.

“It doesn’t really bother me. I just wasn’t expecting it,” I explained.

Seriously, for a minute there I’d thought it was a purse-snatcher or a really aggressive guy trying to hit on me or something. I was relieved, if anything, to find that it wasn’t the work of a stranger. But, to be honest, I was resistant to the idea of holding hands with Adachi, regardless of her reasons. It kinda felt like we were flaunting our friendship for all the world to see, and that made me uncomfortable.

Yet, despite that, I was somehow totally fine with her lying on my lap earlier.

“Should I let go?”

“No, it’s fine. Come on.”

I couldn’t bear to wrest my hand away; I wasn’t capable of being that rude to another person. Instead, I gripped her hand back and started walking again, consciously keeping my head held high and my posture perfectly straight. If I let my guard down for even a second, I felt as though I might slouch my shoulders in shame.

It caught me by surprise, but now that I was thinking rationally, holding hands was hardly that unusual. Granted, I hadn’t seen any girls at our school do it, but sometimes I glimpsed women walking arm in arm downtown. At those times, I dismissed it as something that would never happen to me—until now. It felt weird to be on the other side for a change.

Last time I held hands with someone was…Sports Day, back in grade school. Wow, that was a pretty long time ago.

Adachi’s hand was soft and squishy, if a bit fidgety.

“I didn’t know you were such a needy little baby,” I mused.

“I’m not… needy ,” she replied, though I could hear uncertainty in her voice.

As we headed down the road, she gave my hand a couple tiny squeezes. The way she seemed to beg for my affection was driving me crazy.

“I had no idea,” I repeated absently, proving how surprised I was. If someone had told me back when Adachi and I were eating donuts that this would happen, I probably wouldn’t have believed them.

“Is it weird? Because, to me, this is…pretty normal.”

Obviously you think it’s normal, or else you wouldn’t have initiated it. The problem is that I don’t understand why you did it.

As we walked, her hand was all I could think about. Did she do this with everyone? Maybe I just didn’t know about it because I hadn’t walked anywhere with her until today. Some people needed a little physical reassurance to combat anxiety and things like that; maybe she was one of those people. She probably wasn’t a closet lesbian or anything like that…probably.

I couldn’t bear to look at her, so I stared straight ahead.

She probably wasn’t gay for me…but what if she was? What if she asked me out? What would I do then?

“Where are we going, Shimamura?”

“Huh? Oh, I haven’t really decided. Any suggestions?”

“Wherever you wanna go is fine with me.”

That was the least helpful answer she could have given me. When two passive people needed to make a choice, it always turned into a game of hot potato. But, in my view, Adachi was clearly more responsible than I was. So, really, it was her decision to make. As it stood, we were no better than two lost children wandering around without our parents. Like Hansel and Gretel or something.

I felt Adachi’s fingers twitching…no, pulsing . And as I concentrated on that tiny pulse, I twitched my fingers in kind. In response, she shifted slightly, and the pulse disappeared. In a way, it reminded me of fishing—each side carefully testing the waters, each side searching for something.

So, what was Adachi searching for within me?

There were admittedly a lot of things we had yet to talk about, but I was pretty much an open book.

By this point, I couldn’t focus on anything else, not even the scenery around us. I needed to snap myself out of it, fast. It felt as though this information overload would give me brain freeze and make me scream my head off like a lunatic otherwise.

Where should we go? Shopping? Noooo, no, no. No way.

Now that I’ve got her caught on my hook…should I go ahead and reel her in all the way to my house?

Just before I could suggest it to her, I heard a familiar grating…chirp?…right behind us.

“Krrrssshhh…krrrssshhh…”

“Whoa!”

Together, Adachi and I spun around. Sure enough, there stood the astronaut from yesterday. At least, I was pretty sure it was the same person, since they were the exact same height.

Our town was kind of small, but for someone on foot, it was still a fairly big place. Yet, somehow, I’d managed to encounter this girl two days in a row.

The clear sky glinted off her visor, and when her helmet wobbled, a galaxy of blue sparkles lit up like stars.

“Hello there,” she greeted us, bowing politely.

“Uhhh…hey,” I replied, reflexively bowing back.

“Saw you passing by, so I thought I’d say hi. Krrrssshhh…krrrssshhh…”

“Is…is that what the ‘krrrsshhh’ sound is supposed to signify?”

I felt the conversation giving me an ulcer. Then I realized that Adachi was no longer holding my hand, though I couldn’t remember when she’d let go. She stood a short distance away from me, cradling her hand protectively. Her nose looks a bit red—is she blushing? She didn’t seem that embarrassed walking down the street, though… I don’t get it.

“So, you walk around town in that getup, do you?” I asked.

“It is all I have to wear.”

She doesn’t have any other clothes?

The longer I talked to Chikama Yashiro, the more I felt the world around us silently judging me. Oh well. Truth be told, this had actually helped me break out of the self-consciousness I felt holding hands with Adachi.

I reached out for the girl’s helmet, and she hastily shuffled backward. I wiggled my fingers at her teasingly for a moment, and when I stopped, she quietly shuffled forward again. The more she resisted, the more I wanted to snatch the helmet off her head.

Then Chikama Yashiro (you know what, let’s just call her Yashiro for short) brought her face—er, helmet—close to my fingers.

“I smell something wonderful and sweet emanating from your fingertips.”

Like ants to honey, indeed. Better Yashiro than an actual bug, though. She pressed her visor against my hand, as if to imply that she was sniffing it, though I couldn’t tell one way or the other. In fact, it was impressive that she managed to smell anything through that giant, heavy helmet. What if she’s secretly a talking dog?

I could see the reflection of my face in her visor. Shifting my perspective, I spotted Adachi’s reflection, too. Her expression was decidedly unamused.

“What is this lovely smell? I rather like it.”

“Donuts, probably. We just ate some.”

“Donuts?” Yashiro tilted her head. Then her helmet turned toward the to-go bag in my hand. I instinctively hid the bag behind my back, and a split-second later, Yashiro’s gloved hands closed on the empty air where it once hung.

“What do you think you’re doing? And how did I know you would do it?”

“I’ve detected donuts on my radar.”

“Yes, there are donuts in here, but they’re not for you. This isn’t the fishing hole.”

For that matter, I’m pretty sure the fishing hole charges money to fish there. Did Yashiro even pay?

“Give me a…donut?…and I shall tell you one of the secrets of the universe,” she declared, holding her index finger aloft.

“Wow, for free? Golly,” I replied dryly.

Why should I have to give you a donut? I thought to myself. Then I realized: If she eats something, then that means she’ll have to take her helmet off. And if I’m here, THAT means I’ll get to see her face! I’d been dying to know what she looked like since yesterday, so to me, that was quite the enticing bait.

“Fine, you can have one. But just one .”

“Wow!” The way she lifelessly raised her arms into the air, I couldn’t tell if she was being sincere or sarcastic.

Meh, my sister doesn’t really need more than one. Besides, if I spoil her too much, she won’t want to eat dinner, and Mom will get pissed at me.

After a brief internal debate, I ultimately decided to hand over the Custard Cream.

“So, this is a donut…oh ho…oh hooOOoooh…”

Is she trying to sound impressed? To me, she sounds like an owl.

Instead of removing her helmet like I’d hoped, Yashiro raised her visor a tiny fraction and wedged the donut in like a letter through a mail slot. The loud, wet chewing sounds that followed were some of the grossest noises I’d ever heard. How does she manage to inspire repulsion AND disappointment at the same time?

“This is heavenly! It’s so sugary sweet!”

In stark contrast to me and Adachi, Yashiro was on cloud nine, her helmet wobbling to and fro.

“Normally I’d say it’s weird that you’ve never had a donut before, but…in your case, that’s hardly the weirdest thing about you.” Still, it was nice to see her so overjoyed.

“Got anything sweeter?”

I felt her gaze bore into me through her visor. Annoyed, I put my hand on my hip.

“You want more? Go buy your own.”

“I don’t have any money!”

And you’re proud of that why, exactly? “How can you possibly survive without—”

“Hey, Shimamura.”

I flinched. There was a hardness in Adachi’s voice as she called my name.

She slung her bookbag over her shoulder and jerked her chin down the street.

“I gotta go get my bike.”

“Huh?” But you didn’t ride your bike today.

If I’d been thinking clearly, I would’ve realized that she meant from the repair shop .

“See you, uh, tomorrow, I guess.” With a wave, she headed off down the street alone.

“Hey!” I called after her.

She glanced back, offered me another wave, and kept going. Weren’t we just talking about going somewhere together? What brought this on?

“Is she mad or something…?”

Was Adachi throwing a fit because I talked to someone else for five minutes? No, surely that couldn’t be it. Maybe she was just too embarrassed to be seen with us and had to leave. But then again… Well… But what if… Ugh! Forget it! I don’t get you, Adachi!

As I debated whether to go after her, Yashiro turned to me, still smacking her lips. “As payment for the donut, would you like me to explain what just happened?”

“Knock yourself out.”

“She’s jealous that she didn’t get a donut.”

“Go home.” I flicked my hand at Yashiro in a shooing gesture. If you were a fish, I’d throw you back.

Now I had yet another mystery on my plate. Knowing Adachi, she’d probably get over it by tomorrow, but still… I pressed a hand to my forehead and sighed. “Why do interpersonal relationships have to be so complicated? It’s just too much work.”

“I can relate.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

***

So, yet another weirdo had inflicted themselves upon our town. Would this self-proclaimed time traveler change my life drastically? I had no clue. Life wasn’t really something you could change in the first place.

After all, how could any of us alter the future when we didn’t even know what it looked like to begin with?