Chapter 8: Nameless Wonder

Clear blue skies weren’t exactly a thing in Niigata, and clouds dotted the otherwise sunny day. Even at 9:00 am in the morning, the temperature was beginning to soar, and the fiery sun quickly sapped the strength from Kai’s sleepless body.

After walking around aimlessly for a little while, Kai found himself at the train station. With no plans of taking a train anywhere, he bought a sports drink at the nearby convenience store and decided to set a destination for himself. Misako had told him to walk until his mind was empty, but at this rate he was prone to collapsing. His usual lack of fitness was multiplied by the all-nighter status condition, so Kai wanted to find a place to sit down and rest.

Ten more minutes of walking led him to a sizable park. It was apparently a community staple, as a children’s pool had been appended next door, and the largest library in the area was also nearby. The park served simultaneously as a relaxing spot for the denizens of the town and as a playground for the elementary schoolers on summer break, who were playing baseball with soft rubber balls and plastic bats. Kai caught them in the corner of his eye as he took a seat on a bench beneath the shade of a large tree. He was either more exhausted or out of shape than he had previously thought, because he felt his hips melt into the bench as he sat down.

“...Phew,” Kai unconsciously exhaled. The red hotness in his face had subsided, but now his entire body was overheating. He regretted not having bought ice cream at the store.

“Excuse me, young man.”

“Yes?” he turned toward the sudden voice to find an elderly woman with a hunched back pushing around a stroller.

“Have you seen a cat around here?”

“A cat?” he echoed.

“She’s a black cat with golden eyes. And her tail is like this,” she said while making a right angle with her hands. “It’s all bent up.”

“I haven’t seen her. Um, if you’d like...” Kai rose to offer her the bench.

“Oh, you’re too kind.” The old woman moved frame by frame in slow motion until she finally came into contact with the seat.

“Did she disappear?” he asked.

“We were out on a walk, you see.”

“A walk?” he asked. “With your cat?”

“We always come out to this park together. Both of us are reaching our final years... Before I knew it, the days would fly by with us cooped up inside. Miyo rides on this,” she said, eyeing the stroller, “and I push it to the park. When I take this collar off of her, Miyo’s free to walk around the park, and she comes back after a little while...”

“But she hasn’t returned yet?”

The gray woman slowly nodded. “Maybe she went on without me.”

“No, come on.” What is this lady saying? he wondered uneasily. But out loud, he said, “Um, if you come here often, then she’s probably still somewhere within the park. I’ll go look around for her.”

“...Mister,” she responded with a wrinkly smile, “You’re a good man. How would you like to marry my granddaughter?”

“U-Uh, that’s a bit...” Kai floundered. “Um, I’m gonna go look for her.”

“Ah, wait,” the old lady said. “Take this collar with you. If you put that on her, Miyo will know it’s time to go home.”

“Your cat must be very smart,” he commented.

“Ha, ha, ha,” she cackled. “I wonder if there’s any animal smarter than a cat out there. She’s got eyes like a full moon and fur like a beautiful night sky, so you can’t miss her.”

I see, Kai realized. The Japanese ‘Mi’ for beautiful and ‘Yo’ for night were probably the basis for her name.

“Sorry to ask this of you,” she said as he walked off.

Kai didn’t get any leads from the kids playing baseball, so it seemed unlikely that Miyo was sunbathing somewhere out in the open. He began to ignore the open areas to focus on the more hidden spaces, and began his search from the corner of the park.

“Miyo-chaaan,” he called, and stumbled upon her quicker than he had expected. Right after raising his voice, a meow came back in response. On the other side of a few small trees, he could see a black cat clearly meowing atop a fence in his general direction. She wasn’t that high off of the ground—she was perched a little above head-height for Kai—but according to the old woman, the cat was getting up there in age. The chances are that she had gotten stuck up there, he realized.

Kai pushed his way past the shrubbery, which caused Miyo to flinch back in surprise. Praying that she wouldn’t run away, he walked up with his arms outstretched, to which the cat responded by stepping into his embrace. He could feel her warmth on his stomach as he carried her like that all the way back to the woman.

“Excuse me, is this the one?” he asked.

“Ohh,” the old lady marveled, her mood visibly improved. “Miyo.” As soon as her name was called, Miyo hopped out of Kai’s arms and climbed onto the bench to lay down on her owner’s lap. The cat replied to her master’s summons with a comfortable purr and then balled herself up. The woman offered her gratitude by saying, “Thank you, young man.”

“No, I found her right away, anyway... I’m glad she’s back.”

“Miyo, say thank... oh, she’s tuckered out. Looks like it’s time to head home,” she said, while loading Miyo onto her carriage. “Alrighty, mister, thanks for everything.” The cat was still comfortably balled up in the stroller as the woman rose up from the bench and left.

...And left.

.........And left? The elderly woman had frozen up like a bugged out game character. Kai could have sworn that a minute or so had passed before she sat back down and laughed heartily.

“Ha, ha, ha,” she cackled again. “Looks like I’m all tuckered out from looking for Miyo, too.”

◇

The old lady’s name was Haruko.

“You really are a good man, mister.”

Kai couldn’t just leave her there, so he now found himself listening to her incessant praise as he pushed the carriage along in her stead. The black cat on board hardly stirred and remained still as they walked along.

The walk to Haruko’s house took thirty minutes from the park—though Kai alone could have made it in ten. Her home was a solitary unit made of wood, and sectioned off by a concrete fence. There was a path to the garden right beside the front door, and Miyo trotted along it until she was out of view once she noticed they were home.

“I’ll feel awful if you don’t at least help yourself to some tea before you go,” Haruko offered with a smile. Kai couldn’t figure out a way to decline.

Once inside, there was a staircase immediately in front of the entrance. The old woman showed him past it to the doorway on the left, which led to a traditional Japanese living room floored with tatami mats. She instructed him to sit down on a floor cushion and headed to the kitchen in the room over. The garden was right outside of the living room, and Kai could see Miyo curled up in a ball, sunbathing out on the veranda.

It was an idle, warm space in which time stood still. Until—tap tap tap, a set of footsteps rang down the staircase. Those footsteps—or rather, the girl they belonged to—didn’t seem to notice Kai’s presence as they approached.

“Grandmaaa? You’re finally back! Are you okay? Geez, this is why I told you that I’d walk Miyo in—” her voice tapered off into silence.

Kai locked eyes with her.

She probably had a room on the second floor, and had come down when she sensed her grandmother was home. Her hair was messier than what Kai had seen at school, and she was lightly dressed: she only had on a thin camisole and a light jacket sloppily sliding off her shoulder. Her eyes were wide open, and her shock was surprisingly easy to read.

Aina rubbed her eyes in an exaggerated way. Kai did the same.

...Oh god, this is reality, he thought. What now?

“Wha—” Her eyes grew sharp as she shouted, “What are you doing here?!”

“No, well, there’s a reason for—whoa, wait!”

“Wait for—oh,” she suddenly paused. Aina had been stomping toward him, but finally realized what she was wearing as she did so. “I can’t believe you!”

“But that wasn’t my fau—” he tried to protest.

“Shut up! In the first place, why are you even—”

“Aina! Quit that!” Haruko returned to scold her granddaughter. “Watch that mouth around our guest!”

“B-But, Grandma, this idiot—”

“Don’t go calling him an idiot,” she chided. “This nice young gentleman helped me find Miyo when she got lost, and went out of his way to bring her all the way home for me. We ought to be thanking him, not insulting him... Now, where’s your ‘I’m sorry’?”

“B-But, Grandma...”

“Aina.”

“...I... I’m... Sorry.”

It appeared that Aina couldn’t lift a finger against her grandmother, and her face was a complicated mish-mash of embarrassment and frustration. Kai could hardly believe she was the same person as the cool beauty at school.

“Good girl,” Haruko praised her.

“You! Don’t you dare leave!” Aina demanded with an outstretched pointer finger. Then, she turned to clamber back up to the second floor.

“Here you are, mister,” Haruko said encouragingly. “Drink up.”

“Th-Thank you.” Kai took a sip of the barley tea that had been placed in front of him to calm his restless heart. As the chilled tea made its way down his throat, he finally felt like he could face the situation he was in.

“Do you know Aina?” Haruko asked.

“...We’re in the same club,” he told her reluctantly.

“Is ’at so. Mister... do you know Aina?”

Do I know her? Kai could tell what the old woman meant from the look in her eyes. “...I do.”

After their encounter at the bookstore, he had looked her up online. Aina’s parents were famous enough to have their own Wikipedia pages: her father was an academy award-winning actor, and her mother was a top class model who toured overseas. Written alongside their accolades was information about their thoroughbred daughter, Yozakura Aina, who had worked under her real name as a child star. She had inherited her father’s acting prowess and her mother’s charisma to make for a level of genius that certainly went beyond riding her parents’ coattails. However, the article ended by stating that their talented daughter suddenly quit her line of work and disappeared from the entertainment industry.

“Children... don’t get to choose their parents.” Haruko’s voice was accompanied by the refreshing jingle of the wind chimes hung on the veranda. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her talk to one of her friends... It’s supposed to be so normal. Please, just be her friend.” Haruko spoke as if to entrust her fate to the wind, and her words echoed in Kai’s ears.

◇

Aina came back after a short while, looking like the personification of the word ‘fashionable.’ Her newly donned blouse went well with the shorts, which in turn accentuated her long legs. She retained a natural appearance despite her sophisticated apparel, and her bed head had been replaced with straight, silky black hair. Given Kai’s memory of her appearance just moments before, Aina’s transformation was magical. Without so much as uttering a word, she was commanding him, “Forget what you saw earlier.”

The only reason Kai was still sitting in the living room was because Aina had told him to wait (surely a terrible fate would await him had he gone home), and he planned on knocking back the rest of his tea and heading out as soon as she returned.

But then Haruko said, “Oh, it’s noon already? I’m boiling somen noodles, so have a bite before you go,” effectively cutting off his escape path.

To be more precise, Kai wanted to push through and decline her offer, but Aina snuck up behind him and grabbed him by the back of his shirt. “...Don’t worry about me, just nod along with Grandma,” she whispered. He couldn’t sense any ulterior motive, so he found himself staying put.

As a result, there was now another cup of tea on the other side of his own second helping, and farther beyond that, Aina was sitting across the table.

“...This is the happiest Grandma’s looked in a while, so.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“...You’re so softhearted,” she accused.

“I mean, it’s just lunch.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. Well, that too, but... the thing with Miyo... I’m not sure what happened, but you helped her out, right? In that case, thanks,” Aina said. “She’s... getting old, after all.”

Miyo moved from the sunny spot outside in order to lay across Aina’s lap, as if to declare that it was her destiny to ball up there. She let out a happy purr as Aina’s white fingers scratched gently at her neck.

“...You don’t have to think too much about what Grandma told you,” Aina said after a while.

“Huh?”

“My room is right above this one. The house is old... I could hear you.”

“...I’m sorry,” Kai apologized.

“Stop.” Aina’s clear voice carried directly to Kai. “There’s nothing that warrants an apology just for knowing. The past is the past; the present is the present. I... am me.”

Miyo twitched awake, and Aina petted her head to make it up to her for moving. “...This girl was a stray,” she explained. “I’m not too different, myself. Grandma picked us up, and now our family is Grandma, Miyo, and me. That’s all there is to it.” Her words were cold, but carried no loneliness. In fact, they conveyed a core strength that made the table’s worth of distance seem far out of reach.

“Um...” For whatever reason, Kai found himself thinking of Nanaka’s smiling face as she set aside the reason for her tears. He was scared that he might be hated, but he’d had enough of thinking, if only I had asked back then. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. “We’re in the same club, and I think... we’re friends,” he added slowly.

“............Huh?” The exasperated look on Aina’s face was physically painful to see. “Are you... trying to console me?”

“Um, well... Yeah... I’m sorry.” Why didn’t I just say yes? Kai wondered, and instantly felt regret. He wanted to hang his head in shame at how pathetic he was, but this was the best he could do.

Aina heaved a sigh and quickly turned away. Her manner of snubbing him was far more cat-like than the old furball sleeping on her lap. “If you’re going to apologize afterwards, then don’t say it at all... You’re confusing me,” she told him.

Then, changing the subject, she said, “Anyway! Hurry up and go make a super-plan that makes good use of me! Going for a walk is well and good, but you have been working on the Summit proposal, right?”

Aina hit him where it hurt. Kai reflexively winced, which was met by another sigh when she noticed. “Well, I’m not exactly surprised. I had a feeling it’d turn out this way when I saw you at the bookstore. What, are you the artsy type? Do you have something against discussing with the other members?”

“N-No,” he denied quickly, “I don’t.”

“Then it’s simple,” she said with another deep, exasperated sigh. “If you have someone you can talk to when things don’t pan out, then go talk to them.”

“...That’s... true....”

—To ask is a moment of shame. To not ask is a lifetime of shame. These are words that all know, yet none can execute, Shiraseki. Planners worry over much, and they decide much, as well. However, trusted advisers are among a planner’s greatest assets... Oftentimes, proposals made with the cooperation of many minds contain their passions, too.

Another lesson from Akane sprang to life, triggered by Aina’s refreshing advice. That’s it, Kai thought. With infinite time to ponder, he could deliberate all he wanted. There were some things that only revealed themselves after exploring his own mind.

But the situation at hand was different. Their time was limited, and he was wholly inexperienced. He could think and think and think, but it would all be for naught if he dug a hole to nowhere. “...You’re completely right, Aina-san,” he admitted. “Thanks.”

“‘Thanks’?” Aina repeated. “...I can’t tell if you have too much pride, or too little... Oh,” she paused. With a sly grin, she took Kai’s hand and pulled him up to his feet. “In that case, come with me. Grandmaaa! We’ll be upstairs!”

“Mmkay!” came a delayed response as Kai went down the same path that the bedraggled Aina had disappeared into earlier. Back in the hallway, he walked up the wooden staircase with his clubmate and made his way to the farthest doorway on the second floor. There was a nameplate that read ‘AINA,’ which felt out of place in the Japanese building. Clearly, this was her room.

“Come on, come on, ♪” Aina sang, and beckoned Kai through the door before he could prepare himself to enter. The room was again of Japanese style, and was six tatami mats in size. Other than the drawer, wardrobe, and full-length mirror, the only things in her room were a desk and chair. He would go so far as to describe it as being drab. However, her desk was cluttered with school supplies, cheap cosmetics, and scripts with tabs sticking out of the top. He felt like that space alone showed a glimpse into her daily life.

“I don’t have any cushions,” Aina told him, “so sit wherever you want.”

“O-Okay...” Kai sat down, and the grassy smell of tatami blended in with Aina’s usual sweet aroma (though that was a given, considering this was her room) and wafted into his nose.

“Uhhhm...” Aina opened her drawer to retrieve a tripod stand for her smartphone. As she was about to set her phone onto it, she froze. “Hm?”

“...Is there something wrong?” he asked.

“No, I usually stand my phone up for this, but I forgot I don’t have to do that since you’re here today,” she explained. “Here.”

“Uh, what?” The smartphone Kai accepted had been paused in the middle of an anime. He recognized the show as being a recent hit about a group of high schoolers who were trapped in a wish-granting mirror. He recognized the UI, as well; she was using a subscription streaming service.

“What are you doing?” Growing impatient, Aina’s hand stretched into view and tapped the screen. Of course, that caused the anime to play, and the characters’ voices echoed throughout the room.

“Uhh...”

“Pay attention,” she urged. She watched the screen intently until the scene ended, at which point she tapped the screen again. “Alright!”

Suddenly, Aina shot back up to her feet and took a step away, twirling back to face Kai on the tips of her toes. Her smug grin was clearly designed to provoke, but—drip, a single droplet rippled out to overwrite her expression in an instant. Kai held his breath. He felt that even the sound of a gulp would get in her way, so he silenced himself entirely. His hands were frozen and he didn’t so much as dare to blink as he watched her.

“‘I prayed within that mirror.’” A beautiful sound reverberated amidst the silence, and Kai realized all at once that the sound had come from Aina; that the sound was a line of dialogue; and that the line belonged to the heroine from the scene they had just watched.

The memories of the anime were rapidly replaced with Aina’s voice, but it wasn’t just her voice, either. Every fiber of her being, from her emotive expressions to the tips of her fingers, played a part in her sublime performance. Kai had never seen her work as a child actress, and it had felt wrong to watch an online recording behind her back. He had never paid much attention to anyone’s acting skills before, so he knew his opinion was uninformed... but after seeing it with his own eyes?

Without a doubt, she’s worthy of being called a genius. In fact, Kai was so moved that he had forgotten that he was in a desolate six-tatami-mat room.

“‘I know it’s only a reflection—a fake... Can’t you let me have this one, real wish?’”

Kai felt his soul tug away from his body. If this were a manga, he felt, then he was sure his soul would be slinking out of his mouth; her act was that enchanting.

“Hey,” Aina cut her own portrayal off abruptly, and that was the cue for the magic to end. That had been the last line in the scene they watched. “I practice... or more like, compete like this all the time... How was it?”

Kai could tell she wasn’t testing him. She was serious—perhaps even darkly so—and her gaze and tone of voice clearly conveyed that message.

“That... That was amazing. That was amazing! Honestly!” Kai didn’t have time to pick and choose his words. If there was any risk of this state of wonder passing him by as he embellished his compliments, then he wanted to go ahead and lay his sentiments out while they were still raw.

It was amazing. It was amazing. Her voice, her expressions, her mannerisms—her performance was emphatic down to the tips of her fingers. There was a real possibility that Kai was simply impressed due to his untrained eye. But there was no greater truth than the fact that his heart had been touched, here and now.

“...You know,” Aina began tightly. She had seemed quite happy at Kai’s first outburst, but her mood soured more and more as he pointed out her acting. “I want to be a voice actress.” Her pale hand had balled up into a fist, and was shaking ever so slightly. “You keep talking about my expressions and mannerisms... but I don’t need any of those! When I asked you, ‘How was it?’ I was asking if my voice was better than the voice actress in the anime!”

After a beat of silence, Aina herself seemed to regret having raised her voice. “Sorry,” she apologized into the corner of the room.

“...Why does it have to be voice acting?” Kai wanted to know, because Yozakura Aina was extraordinarily beautiful. Her presence alone would steal people’s gazes. She didn’t need to lift a muscle to exert her pressure, and mere eye contact with her was enough to send a heart into overdrive.

Kai was glad they didn’t share a classroom, because he was sure the boys in her class couldn’t help but unconsciously steal glances her way all day long. She was like a vampire in a fantasy novel, capable of magically charming anyone in her path; a person like that was capable of such bewitching acting.

It wasn’t as though Kai wanted to devalue voice-based work. He himself was a great fan of games and anime. He couldn’t count the number of times he had been moved, saddened, cheered up, and brought to tears by the skilled voice actors behind the scenes.

But all that having been said, she had so much talent that he had to ask, Why?

Aina approached him with a tip-tap in her step and lunged at him, her face a razor’s edge away from his. With the casual annoyance of someone tossing away her trash, she asked, “I’m beautiful, aren’t I?

“I don’t need an answer. I know. I know... better than anyone else. But you see,” she continued, her right hand creeping up to grab Kai by the collar. They were close enough for their hair to be touching when she finally whispered, “I hate that ‘beauty’ more than anything in the world.” Her heart screamed those quiet words into his ear.

“It’s readyyy!” her grandmother’s call echoed obtusely.

“...Lunch is ready.” Aina’s grip loosened and the slim fingers around his neck slid away. “Forget it,” she muttered quietly, and, like a cat, slipped out of the room alone.