Chapter 3 Jealousy and more jealousy
1
April 5th.
A tranquil Wednesday. Leaning back in a sunlit terrace seat, dozing off, it feels like I could drift straight into a pleasant dream world.
“Thank you very much!” I say as I clear away the cup of a businessman who lingered over a single coffee. The lunch rush has passed, and the flow of customers slows, leaving room to breathe.
As I clean up, I recall the man’s haggard face, marked with the shadow of death. He’s probably another warrior trapped in that brutal, dark world.
I was lucky to escape it so soon. Honestly, though, being worked to the bone as a grunt isn’t much different here, helping with the family business.
2:00 p.m.
The shop is completely empty when the doorbell chimes.
“Welcome!” I call out, turning around.
Before I can process, the customer—a beautiful girl with short black hair—is already right in front of me. No, not just in front of me—she’s practically diving into me.
“Wah?!”
My face is buried in her ample chest. I—I can’t breathe!
Warm, soft, and somehow sweet-smelling… but seriously, I can’t breathe!
I’m gonna die. I’m actually gonna die!
“Guh, h-hey, let go! What the hell?!”
Completely bewildered, I struggle to make sense of the situation.
Why is some random, busty beauty throwing herself at me? Even in a rom-com, you’d rarely meet a girl this wild!
“Hehe, sorry, sorry!” she says, finally pulling away.
Reluctantly parting with that lingering warmth on my face, I take a closer look at her.
She’s tall for a girl, easily over 170 cm—taller than me by a few centimeters, and I’m exactly 170 cm. Her skin is pale, smooth like silk. And then there’s that deadly chest weapon that nearly killed me.
“Hm? Wait, you… could it be?”
Her boyish, sharp features. Short black hair. And those infuriatingly smug eyes.
A memory flickers to life, pulling a certain energetic girl from the depths of my mind.
This beauty—no, this girl—is…
“You’re Mahiru, aren’t you?”
＊
Hey there, everyone. Miya Haruyama here.
Today was the opening ceremony, so there were no classes. School ended in the morning, and after stopping by my club, I came here.
I asked Oba-san to let me sneak in through the back, and now I’m hiding in the shadow of the kitchen entrance. It’s a blind spot from the shop, so no one should spot me. Mahiru said she was going to see Yuu-nii, and I figured I’d keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn’t say anything unnecessary…
But here’s a sudden question for you.
I’m really mad right now. Can you guess why?
“No way, it’s been a while, hasn’t it, Mahiru?” Yuu-nii says.
“Hehe, Yuu-nii, you haven’t changed a bit!” Mahiru replies.
“You haven’t changed either. Well, except for growing in… certain areas.”
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“It’s really been forever, huh? Ten years?” Yuu-nii continues.
“Ten years since you didn’t come back even once,” Mahiru says.
“There’s a long, dark story behind that.”
As the two share the joy of their reunion, I’m burning with jealousy.
What the hell?
What’s that?
What’s going on here?
Why did he recognize Mahiru right away?
No, hold on a second.
Seriously?!
Sure, Mahiru’s been the same since elementary school—same hairstyle, same personality. But still!
The difference in how he treated me is night and day!
And Mahiru, why the hell did you just throw yourself at Yuu-nii’s chest like that?! And Yuu-nii, why are you grinning like an idiot?!
Mahiru takes a seat at the counter.
“Ojisan, a cola, please.”
“Coming right up,” I say.
“Come on, have a drink with me!” Mahiru insists.
Sipping her cola, Mahiru pulls Yuu-nii to sit beside her.
“Why didn’t you come back for ten years?” she asks.
“It’s a long story, but in short, I didn’t have the chance to visit,” Yuu-nii replies.
His face betrays the hardships he’s faced in Tokyo. Shaking it off, he changes the subject.
“Mahiru, you’re a third-year in high school now, right? Doing any clubs?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah, I’m in the volleyball club. I’m actually the captain.”
“Volleyball?”
“I started in sixth grade.”
“Volleyball, huh… Wait, captain?”
“Yup, well, kinda,” Mahiru says, her face flushing with a mix of pride and embarrassment.
“That cheeky little kid, a captain… It’s enough to make my eyes water,” Yuu-nii says.
“…I’m not a kid anymore,” Mahiru mumbles.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re still a kid to me.”
“…Idiot.”
“That uniform—it’s from Kita High, right?”
“Yeah. Today was the opening ceremony. We were at training camp until yesterday—”
Ugh, I want to join in on these conversations too!
Why are they getting all nostalgic without me?
Ugh!
“Oh, by the way, how are Miya and Asaka doing?” Yuu-nii asks.
I made it very clear last night that he’s not supposed to know that the mystery beauty he’s been trying to name is me.
Come on, Mahiru, play it cool.
“Hm, they’re doing alright. Asaka’s at a boarding school now, so we don’t see her much,” Mahiru says.
“Hmm, I wonder how those two turned out. Miyo’s probably grown into some wild gyaru or delinquent by now… Huh? Why’re you laughing?”
“Pfft? Oh, no reason,” Mahiru says, barely holding back her laughter.
Knowing the situation, she must find this whole thing with Yuu-nii and me hilarious.
“No, really, it’s nothing,” she says, covering her mouth to stifle her giggles.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, I said!”
Before Mahiru can slip up, I decide to separate them. I pull out my phone and send a message.
“Mahiru, meet me at the M•cD•n•lds in •on. (Angry)”
“Oh, by the way, next time, bring those two along—” Yuu-nii starts.
Mahiru notices the message.
“Oh, Yuu-nii, I gotta go for today.”
“Huh? Already?”
Mahiru stands, and Yuu-nii looks a bit disappointed.
“Thanks for the drink. See ya!” she says.
“Alright,” Yuu-nii replies.
After confirming Mahiru’s left the shop, I slip out through the back door. Quickly.
2
“Man, Yuu-nii hasn’t changed at all, has he? Maybe his hair’s gotten a tad thinner? Haha!” Mahiru says.
We’re at a window seat in the M•cD•n•lds in on.
Mahiru’s munching on fries, her notably larger chest resting on the table, her toned legs—trained from volleyball—casually crossed. Just sitting there, she’s a magnet for attention, radiating a dangerous charm.
I can feel the leering gazes from guys at nearby tables.
“Look at those two, they’re on another level,” one whispers.
“Go talk to them, dude.”
“No way, you go.”
They’re glancing over, debating whether to make a move.
I sigh.
I’m not a fan of being stared at by strangers, but that’s not the issue right now.
There’s a much bigger problem staring me in the face.
“Why did he recognize you right away?!” I demand, leaning forward.
It’s not fair!
I tried all sorts of strategies, and he didn’t have a clue it was me. But with Mahiru, he knew instantly!
It’s discrimination!
A conspiracy!
Utterly unjust!
“Why? Don’t ask me…” Mahiru says, reaching for a nugget and munching away.
“I mean, you’ve changed a lot since back then, Miya. You’re more reserved now, calmer.”
“And you’re still the same old Mahiru,” I point out.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Anyway, why didn’t you just say, ‘Hey, Yuu-nii, it’s Miyo!’ when you first saw him?”
“Guh…”
“Why didn’t you?”
She’s got a point. But a maiden’s heart isn’t so easily swayed by logic.
“Because… when we ran into each other at the station, I recognized him right away, but he didn’t recognize me! Even when we met again that same day! If I’d introduced myself in that situation…”
“Yeah?”
“It’d be like I was desperate for him to notice me!”
“Well, aren’t you?”
Mahiru reaches for her shake.
“No way!”
“What a complicated girl you are.”
“I’m not complicated! I just want to enjoy watching Yuu-nii squirm when he finally figures it out and gets all shocked and flustered!”
“Whoa,” Mahiru says.
“Don’t give me that look, Mahiru!”
“I’m not, I’m not.”
I know I’m heading in a bit of a crazy direction here.
“But he’s totally treating you like a stranger, right? Without any hints, he might never figure it out. It’s Yuu-nii we’re talking about.”
“I know that,” I admit.
Mahiru grabs her second box of fries.
“A decade for an adult and a decade for a kid are totally different. Kids change so much as they grow. Like, you see a relative’s kid after a year, and they’re practically unrecognizable.”
“That’s why I’m doing something about it,” I say.
“Doing what?”
I explain the name-guessing game, and Mahiru’s face pales.
“…Wait, you’re doing that?”
“Don’t look at me like that, Mahiru!”
“I can’t help it, that’s pretty out there.”
“Anyway, from now on, you’re gonna help me with this, got it?”
＊
I can’t help but think—Miyo’s always been stubborn. She’s gotten quieter, but that part of her hasn’t changed one bit.
If I spilled the beans and told Yuu-nii her name, she’d probably lose it.
Well, it’s entertaining, so I’ll let it slide. Yuu-nii will figure it out eventually.
Still, seeing Yuu-nii after ten years…
Memories flood back.
We used to play all sorts of games together.
Going to the pool, playing video games, hitting up festivals. Looking back, we probably caused him a lot of trouble.
I touch my chest, and the sensation of Yuu-nii’s face against it comes rushing back.
My heart pounds.
“…”
“Mahiru, you’re thinking something naughty right now, aren’t you?”
“Huh? No way!”
“And what was with you shoving your chest in Yuu-nii’s face? Total perv move!”
“No, that was just a hug!”
“Why’d you need to hug him?”
“Come on, it’s been ten years! I got excited, so I hugged him. That’s normal, right?”
“No, it’s not!”
“You used to cling to him all the time too, Miya.”
“That was when we were kids… Don’t bring up weird memories!”
“Looking back, we were kind of brats, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“But it was fun, wasn’t it?”
“…Yeah.”
Gazing out at the bustling crowd beyond the window, we lose ourselves in memories of Yuu-nii.
3
Homeroom ends, and the final bell echoes through the school. Students spill out of classrooms into the hallways, reversing the density.
In the now-quiet classroom, I stretch dramatically.
“Nnngh!”
I’m not a fan of crowds.
Ever since my chest started growing, I’ve been hyper-aware of people staring. I can tell exactly where their eyes go. Especially guys—they look down before even meeting my gaze. It’s exhausting.
Those who have, have their own struggles.
I wait until the hallway clears.
“Yawn…”
Outside, I can already hear the shouts of the sports clubs.
It’s 4:10 p.m.
Time to head out.
No club today, so I can take it easy.
“Mahiru!” a voice calls from the doorway.
It’s Miya.
“Off today, right? Let’s head home together.”
“Sure.”
We walk side by side through the school gate.
“Wanna stop by Yuu-nii’s place?” I ask.
“Of course. But don’t mention my name, okay? He’s gotta figure it out himself.”
“Got it, got it.”
Still, if we show up together, even Yuu-nii might put two and two together. Is that Miyo’s plan?
‘Mahiru and this mystery girl are connected → they’ve been friends since way back? → Way back… Miyo?’ Something like that.
Hmm, that logic might be a stretch.
She should just drop the silly pride already. We arrive at Moonlight Terrace.
“Okay, I’m serious—don’t call me by my name. He’s gotta figure it out on his own.”
“Yes, yes.”
Miya opens the door.
“Welcome!” Yuu-nii greets.
It’s pretty busy for this time of day. There’s just one table open, so we settle there.
Yuu-nii comes to take our order and gives us a curious look.
“Hey, Yuu-nii!” I say.
“Oh, Mahiru, you know this girl?”
You know her too.
“Yeah, we’re friends from school,” I say.
Not a lie.
“Hello, Yuu-san,” Miya says.
Yuu-san?
What’s with that cringe-inducing way of addressing him?
“Hey there,” Yuu-nii replies, grinning like an idiot.
“It looks busy today,” Miya says.
“Yeah, it’s always like this at this hour.”
“Must be tough.”
“It’s the job. Haha! I’m surprised you two are friends, though.”
“You know Mahiru-san?” Miya asks.
“I’ve known her since she was this small,” Yuu-nii says, holding his hand at waist height.
“Wow, really?” Miya says.
…What am I watching here?
Yuu-nii, that girl you’re fawning over is one of the brats who used to drive you crazy ten years ago.
“I’ll have an iced coffee. Mahiru?” Miya says.
“Hm? Grown Search Term: cola.”
“Got it.”
The drinks arrive in about five minutes. The reddish-brown liquid fizzes, bubbles rising from the bottom of the glass. A sip sends carbonation tingling through my mouth.
This is pretty amusing to watch. They’re both so serious, it’s hilarious.
“Yuu, we’ve got things handled here, so go entertain the young ladies,” Oba-san says with a smirk.
She’s definitely in on it.
“Huh? But it’s kinda busy…” Yuu-nii says.
“Go on, go on.”
“Well, if you say so.”
Yuu-nii sits at our table. Miya seizes the moment.
“So, what was Mahiru like as a kid?” she asks.
She’s probably trying to jog his memory with childhood stories. But that question could also imply she doesn’t know my past…
“Let’s see… In a word, a total brat,” Yuu-nii says.
“Really?” Miya says.
“Yuu-nii, you don’t have to say that stuff,” I warn.
“Breaking into abandoned houses and getting lost, building secret bases in the mountains…” he continues.
“Wow, that sounds wild,” Miya says.
You were part of it too.
“There were two other brats besides Mahiru. One of them lived next door—”
Miyo’s eyes sharpen.
“W-What was she like?” she asks.
I swallow hard.
This doesn’t feel good.
Yuu-nii, don’t say anything stupid…
“She was the biggest brat of them all,” he says.
Idiot!
“Every single day, she’d pull some outrageous stunt or prank. I was always cleaning up her messes. What a handful, right, Mahiru?”
"Yeah, that's right."
"Yeah, I mean, you were pretty naughty too."
"Y-yes."
“Oh, wow,” Miya says quietly, sipping her coffee.
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“You know, Miya, I get why you’re mad, but you kinda brought this on yourself, didn’t you? If you’re gonna hold a grudge, blame the little brat you used to be!”
“She was called Miya,” Yuu-nii continues, “and with how outrageously wild she was back then, I bet she’s turned into some kind of delinquent or gyaru by now. Hahaha!”
I feel a menacing pressure.
Not even at the national women’s volleyball tournament or standing on the podium did I feel this kind of tension.
Yuu-nii, you’d better stop there. Any more, and it’s a matter of life and death.
“So, what do you think of that girl?” Miya asks.
“Let’s see…” Yuu-nii says, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
The air grows heavy. While the other customers relax and enjoy their time, our table is shrouded in an eerie tension.
I’m starting to sweat.
Please, Yuu-nii, don’t say anything unnecessary.
Under Miyo’s and my gaze, Yuu-nii opens his mouth.
“She caused me all sorts of trouble, but to me, she’s like a cute little sister I’ve known since she was a baby. She moved away, so it’s not like I can just see her whenever I want… but I’d love to meet her again.”
“Huh, really?” I say.
My whole body itches.
To say something so sappy right in front of her without realizing it—this is gonna be a mess when he figures it out.
And Miya, her mood’s flipped to cheerful in an instant.
What a simple girl.
“That’s nice. I hope you get to see her soon♪” Miya says, her voice rising a pitch in her good mood.
“So, shall we hear today’s guess?”
Guess?
Oh, right, she mentioned that name-guessing game.
“Uh, let’s see… Satomi Kujou, maybe?” Yuu-nii says.
What kind of naming sense is that?
“Wrong. But I’ll let you off without a penalty today,” Miya says.
“Huh? Really?”
“Yup, I’m in a good mood today. Let’s go, Mahiru.”
“Uh, yeah. See ya, Yuu-nii.”
“Later.”
As we leave the shop, Miya starts skipping in high spirits. Watching my childhood friend’s back, I think to myself:
These two are such a pain.
4
Lunch break, behind the school building. I was called to this secluded spot.
Waiting for me is a younger male student.
“Haruyama-senpai, please go out with me.”
I take a small step back, staring at his outstretched hand.
It’s a bit conceited to say, but I get confessed to a lot.
No matter who it is, though, I’ll never say yes to a confession.
I’ve never once felt my heart flutter for a guy my age. I couldn’t relate at all to the romance gossip the girls in my class obsess over.
Handsome actors or idols on TV? No reaction. Characters in 2D worlds? Not interested.
For a while, I wondered if I just wasn’t interested in love at all, but that wasn’t it either.
“Um…” I say.
“I’m serious, I’m totally into you! I don’t care about the age difference!” the boy says, grinning confidently.
“I’m… sorry,” I say in a faint voice.
I’m really bad at these situations.
“Huh?! W-Why?!” he exclaims.
He’s a first-year who just started this year. Apparently, he’s caused a bit of a stir for being a cute, handsome guy.
He’s probably never struggled with romance before. The shock on his face is clear.
“Why… you ask…” I mumble.
Would it hurt him if I said I’m just not interested?
“Is there… someone else you like?” he presses, stepping closer with a hint of anger.
“…”
When I saw Yuu-nii again at the station, a flood of emotions hit me.
Nostalgia.
Joy.
Loneliness.
Anger that he never came back even once.
Anger that he didn’t recognize me.
Amid all that, I noticed a spark I’d never felt before in my life.
I wasn’t some cold girl uninterested in love. The person I was meant to fall for had just been far away all this time.
I turn on my heel and run.
“Hey, wait!” he calls.
“S-Sorry!” I stammer, tripping over my words as I glance back.
I dash into the school building, racing up the stairs. My destination…
“…Haa, haa…”
I’m out of breath by the time I reach the landing. My side aches. From there, I climb slowly, step by step.
The top floor of the north building, the westernmost classroom. That’s my oasis.
“All done—phew!” I say.
“Why are you so out of breath?” asks Sena Nonaka, lounging deeply on a leather sofa.
“Well, actually…”
I explain what happened.
“Another confession? You’re something else,” Sena says.
This is the clubroom of the Mystery Novel Research Club, or “Mystery Club” for short.
The walls are lined with shelves packed tightly with classic and modern mystery novels from around the world.
By the way, my love for mystery novels comes from Yuu-nii’s influence. He was into them too, and his room was full of his collection.
After he moved to Tokyo, I often visited his room to ease my loneliness. The books were too hard for me as an elementary schooler, but by middle school, I could read them and got hooked.
“As expected of one of Kita High’s three Ironclad Maidens,” Sena says.
“Stop it!” I protest.
Sena-chan, by the way, is the president of the Mystery Club. She’s petite, about 150 cm, with semi-long black hair and black-rimmed glasses—a quiet girl at first glance, but a total weirdo who loves murder mysteries more than anything.
“Third-year Mahiru Ryuseki, Miya Haruyama, and second-year Yuhin Togami. All stunningly beautiful, yet none have boyfriends and reject every confession outright. Not a single guy has managed to win them over.”
“Why are you narrating like that?” I say.
Mahiru’s super popular too. And surprisingly, she’s got a big following among girls as well.
“And so, they earned the nickname Ironclad Maidens,” Sena continues.
“Stop, it’s embarrassing!”
Who came up with that cringey, chuunibyou nickname?!
“Seriously, it’s so embarrassing,” I say.
“Alright, alright,” Sena relents.
I sigh.
At least once a month, someone confesses to me. Each time, the whole school stares, and it’s mortifying.
Some girls look at me with jealousy, and some guys hype me up weirdly. But honestly, talking to people I’m not close with makes me nervous, and sometimes it’s so bad I feel nauseous.
Deep down, I’m an introvert who hates being the center of attention.
I sigh again.
“Too popular for your own good? Talk about a luxury problem. In a classic mystery novel, you’d be the first to get killed,” Sena says.
What a thing to say!
But I really don’t like guys hitting on me.
Back in the classroom, I lift the lid off the trash can in the corner and pull out the bag. It’s my turn for trash duty today.
“Ugh, heavy,” I mutter.
“Hey, Haruyama-san, I’ll take care of that,” a guy from my class says, appearing out of nowhere.
“Oh… th-thank you,” I say.
He grabs the overflowing trash bag and carries it off.
During fifth period, another guy says, “Haruyama-san, I forgot my textbook. Can I share yours?”
“Uh, sure,” I reply.
The guy next to me scoots his desk closer. He forgets his textbook all the time, and I end up sharing mine, our desks pushed together.
The bell rings—ding-dong-ding-dong—signaling the end of the day.
“Hey, Haruyama-san, wanna hit up karaoke with everyone?” the class’s resident playboy asks.
“Uh, no, I’ve got something today…” I say.
The girls behind him glare at me. What did I even do?
“Phew,” I sigh.
Dodging the overly forward guys, I somehow make it through another day. Normally, I’d head to the clubroom to chat with my close clubmates or go home to read, but…
As I leave the school gate, my steps feel lighter.
Like I’ve sprouted wings. My stride is buoyant, my heart racing. Soon, the sign for Moonlight Terrace comes into view.
“W-Welcome!” Yuu-nii’s voice greets me.
His tone sounds a bit strained. Is he tired?
Being here brings back my childhood.
“Hehe, hello, Yuu-san,” I say with a mischievous grin.
Now, how should I make him figure it out today?
＊
Twenty minutes earlier, before Miya arrives at Moonlight Terrace.
＊
Yuu Hazuki, the bug-averse guy.
Or rather, now he’s a bug-averse guy. As a kid, he used to head into the mountains to catch beetles and stag beetles, dive into the grass for grasshoppers—(the rest omitted).
Moonlight Terrace, near the restroom. Behind a potted plant, something radiates an overwhelming presence.
“…”
It’s dark and hard to see, but there’s no mistake.
A glossy black body, antennae as long as its body, and a visceral disgust that sets my instincts on edge. My bug-hating sensor is going wild.
No doubt about it—it’s him.
To think I’d run into him here. I didn’t see many in Tokyo, but the countryside is different.
The enemy of humanity.
The gleaming black devil.
G.
Tarou-san.
The black bullet.
The nicknames for him are as numerous as the fears humanity holds. But this is Moonlight Terrace, a restaurant. I can’t just call him by his true name. If a customer noticed him, it could lead to complaints and lost business.
It’s 4:30 p.m.
The idle time is over, and customers are starting to trickle in. There are three groups in the shop right now:
An elderly couple.
A young salaryman.
Two neighborhood aunties.
I’m the only one who’s noticed him. Mom’s on break, and Dad’s in the kitchen cooking orders.
I’d love to call Dad for backup, but I can’t risk leaving and losing sight of him.
Which means I have to handle this myself.
Can I even do this?
I’m not bragging, but I once fainted facing a beetle.
“Excuse me, I’m heading to the restroom,” one of the aunties says, coming my way.
“Oh, uh, sorry,” I say, stepping in front of the plant to block him from view.
Right now, he’s behind my right foot…
Just thinking about it gives me cold sweats. Please, stay quiet.
What do I do now? There are two options:
1. Maintain the status quo until the customers leave.
2. Take him out without the customers noticing.
Option 1 is tricky. He’s a living creature. He’s still for now, but who knows when he’ll move? If I lose track of him… No, I need to deal with him while I know where he is.
But if I fail to take him out, he’ll escape. At breakneck speed.
If the customers see him darting around the shop, it’s over for us.
The auntie comes out of the restroom, and I finally step away from the plant.
Good, he hasn’t moved.
I scan the area.
Nothing around that could work as a weapon…
The broom and mop are in a locker out back, and I vaguely recall seeing insecticide in the second-floor living room, but I don’t want to leave my post.
Which leaves… crushing him with my bare hands?
No, no, no, no, absolutely not.
Dad, what kind of hygiene management is this for a restaurant if he shows up?
“Wait a sec,” I say.
An idea hits me.
I could surround the plant with some kind of board to barricade him in. Then, when the customers are gone, I can take my time dealing with him.
“Ha,” I scoff.
As if there’s a convenient board lying around. Dad, hurry back already. I could signal you with eye contact.
Guess I’ll have to stomp him?
It’s way better than using my hands, but these are brand-new sneakers…
What do I do?
What should I do?
The doorbell jingles—ding-a-ling.
“?!”
There, at the entrance, is that mystery beauty whose name I don’t know.
This is bad. There’s only one way a girl reacts to seeing him: screaming “Kyaa!” at the top of her lungs.
Especially a girl like her, who probably lives a life far removed from bugs. She’s bound to freak out and cry.
“W-Welcome!” I stammer.
“Hehe, hello, Yuu-san,” she says with a sly grin.
“Yuu-san, what are you doing over there?”
Even in this crisis, her cuteness knows no bounds. She’s like the embodiment of adorable. If she sees him…
“N-No, it’s nothing,” I say, turning to block her view.
“Are you hiding something?” she asks.
“It’s nothing, really! Hey, Dad, we’ve got a customer!” I call.
“Suspicious,” she says, leaning to the side to peek downward.
“Oh!”
Crap, she saw him. Please, don’t scream…
“So that’s what’s going on,” she says.
What I see next is unbelievable.
She crouches swiftly, reaches behind the plant, and picks him up.
“There we go,” she says.
Her expression doesn’t even flicker—such a swift, natural motion.
“Huh?!” I exclaim.
“?” she says, standing and holding it out.
No, don’t show me the underside!
“Yuu-san, this is a figurine. It’s really well-made,” she says.
“Huh? A figurine?”
“Look.”
In the light, I see it’s indeed a detailed figurine—not him, but a beetle.
“What? What’s going on?” I say.
“That’s my line. What’s the situation here?” she asks, tilting her head.
＊
The beetle figurine rests in my palm as Yuu-nii and Oba-san peer down at it.
“I taught you what to do if a cockroach shows up in the shop, didn’t I? This was a little test to see if you could handle it. We don’t have a cockroach figurine, so I used a beetle one instead,” Oba-san says with a sigh.
“Oh, right. My bug phobia was messing with my head,” Yuu-nii says.
“And we have exterminators come regularly, so we haven’t seen a real cockroach in ten years. Right, dear?” Oba-san says.
Ojisan nods silently.
“Yuu-san, you’re scared of bugs, huh?” I say.
It’s clearly a beetle figurine. Oh, wait, didn’t Yuu-nii once faint when a beetle landed on his face?
Another nostalgic memory surfaces for me.
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