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Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T04:17:23Z

Andrewgr: corrected word

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because they didn't know about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone entered into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of our earlier talk," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa and the others had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' had added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we talk!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified for her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I assured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for. 

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?".

Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had instead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!" 

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy, and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent without notice from the cooking school she works at," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call." 

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it stand out from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone on the way, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore by the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table against the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T04:15:37Z

Andrewgr: normal phrasing

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because they didn't know about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone entered into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of our earlier talk," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa and the others had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' had added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we talk!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified for her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I assured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for. 

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?".

Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had instead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!" 

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy, and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent without notice from the cooking school she works at," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call." 

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it stand out from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone on the way, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore by the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table against the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T04:14:18Z

Andrewgr: extraneous word

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because they didn't know about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone entered into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of our earlier talk," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa and the others had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' had added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we talk!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified for her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I assured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for. 

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?".

Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had instead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!" 

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy, and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent without notice from the cooking school she works at," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call." 

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it stand out from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone on the way, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore by the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

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[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T04:10:33Z

Andrewgr: "underway" doesn't make sense; "by the time" implies duration, which is appropriate here

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because they didn't know about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone entered into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of our earlier talk," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa and the others had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' had added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we talk!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified for her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I assured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for. 

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?".

Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had instead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!" 

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy, and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent without notice from the cooking school she works at," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call." 

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it stand out from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone on the way, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore by the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T04:08:36Z

Andrewgr: we normally wouldn't describe a house as "protrubing"

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because they didn't know about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone entered into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of our earlier talk," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa and the others had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' had added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we talk!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified for her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I assured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for. 

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?".

Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had instead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!" 

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy, and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent without notice from the cooking school she works at," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call." 

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it stand out from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T04:05:47Z

Andrewgr: Question for translator

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because they didn't know about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone entered into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of our earlier talk," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa and the others had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' had added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we talk!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified for her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I assured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for. 

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?".

Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had instead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!" 

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy, and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent without notice from the cooking school she works at," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call." 

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it protrude from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T04:04:24Z

Andrewgr: moved modifier to proper place

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because they didn't know about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone entered into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of our earlier talk," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa and the others had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' had added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we talk!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified for her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I assured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for. 

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?".

Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had instead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!" 

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy, and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent without notice from the cooking school she works at," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call."

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it protrude from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T04:02:28Z

Andrewgr: better rhythm

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because they didn't know about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone entered into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of our earlier talk," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa and the others had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' had added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we talk!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified for her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I assured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for. 

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?".

Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had instead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!" 

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy, and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent from the cooking school she works at without notice," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call."

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it protrude from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T03:33:40Z

Andrewgr: Question for translator

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because they didn't know about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone entered into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of our earlier talk," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa and the others had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' had added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we talk!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified for her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I assured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for. 

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?".

Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had instead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!" 

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent from the cooking school she works at without notice," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call."

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it protrude from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T03:32:00Z

Andrewgr: correct typo

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because they didn't know about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone entered into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of our earlier talk," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa and the others had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' had added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we talk!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified for her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I assured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for. 

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?".

Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had instead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!"

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent from the cooking school she works at without notice," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call."

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it protrude from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T03:22:41Z

Andrewgr: Question for translator

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because they didn't know about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone entered into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of our earlier talk," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa and the others had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' had added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we talk!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified for her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I assured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for. 

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?". Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had in stead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!"

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent from the cooking school she works at without notice," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call."

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it protrude from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T03:20:40Z

Andrewgr: removed typo

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because they didn't know about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone entered into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of our earlier talk," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa and the others had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' had added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we talk!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified for her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I assured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for.

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?". Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had in stead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!"

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent from the cooking school she works at without notice," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call."

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it protrude from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T03:15:43Z

Andrewgr: changed to correct word

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because they didn't know about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone entered into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of our earlier talk," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa and the others had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' had added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we talk!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified for her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I assured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for.

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?". Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had in stead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!"

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent from the cooking school she works at without notice," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call."

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it protrude from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T03:14:19Z

Andrewgr: added missing word

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because they didn't know about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone entered into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of our earlier talk," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa and the others had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' had added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we talk!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified for her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I ensured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for.

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?". Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had in stead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!"

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent from the cooking school she works at without notice," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call."

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it protrude from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T03:12:51Z

Andrewgr: fixed grammar

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because they didn't know about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone entered into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of our earlier talk," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa and the others had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' had added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we talk!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I ensured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for.

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?". Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had in stead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!"

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent from the cooking school she works at without notice," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call."

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it protrude from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T03:11:19Z

Andrewgr: made tense consistent

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because they didn't know about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone entered into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of our earlier talk," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa and the others had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' had added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we were talking!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I ensured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for.

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?". Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had in stead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!"

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent from the cooking school she works at without notice," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call."

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it protrude from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T03:10:04Z

Andrewgr: got rid of et al again. If "and others" becomes to repetitive, maybe some could be changed to "and crew" or "and friends" or "and his cohorts"

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because they didn't know about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone entered into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of our earlier talk," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa and the others had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we were talking!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I ensured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for.

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?". Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had in stead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!"

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent from the cooking school she works at without notice," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call."

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it protrude from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T03:08:20Z

Andrewgr: more natural phrasing

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because they didn't know about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone entered into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of our earlier talk," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa et al had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we were talking!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I ensured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for.

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?". Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had in stead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!"

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent from the cooking school she works at without notice," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call."

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it protrude from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T03:05:18Z

Andrewgr: changed to standard phrase

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because they didn't know about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone entered into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of what we have been talking earlier," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa et al had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we were talking!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I ensured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for.

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?". Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had in stead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!"

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent from the cooking school she works at without notice," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call."

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it protrude from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T03:04:26Z

Andrewgr: read awkwardly, and wasn't logically true (if some random person in Iowa knew about the recipe, they'd still be acting friviously; it isn't important that nobody knew about it, only that they didn't know about it)

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because they didn't know about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone mixed into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of what we have been talking earlier," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa et al had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we were talking!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I ensured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for.

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?". Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had in stead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!"

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent from the cooking school she works at without notice," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call."

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it protrude from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T03:02:05Z

Andrewgr: changed to correct word

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to assure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because nobody knew about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone mixed into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of what we have been talking earlier," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa et al had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we were talking!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I ensured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for.

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?". Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had in stead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!"

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent from the cooking school she works at without notice," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call."

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it protrude from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T03:01:01Z

Andrewgr: Question for translator

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?" 

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to ensure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because nobody knew about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone mixed into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of what we have been talking earlier," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa et al had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we were talking!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I ensured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for.

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?". Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had in stead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!"

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent from the cooking school she works at without notice," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call."

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it protrude from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T03:00:21Z

Andrewgr: et al doesn't really read well in fiction

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa and the others had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?"

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to ensure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because nobody knew about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone mixed into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of what we have been talking earlier," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa et al had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we were talking!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I ensured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for.

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?". Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had in stead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!"

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent from the cooking school she works at without notice," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call."

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it protrude from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T02:58:49Z

Andrewgr: Question for translator

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily. 

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa et al had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?"

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to ensure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because nobody knew about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone mixed into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of what we have been talking earlier," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa et al had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we were talking!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I ensured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for.

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?". Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had in stead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!"

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent from the cooking school she works at without notice," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call."

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it protrude from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T02:56:33Z

Andrewgr: Question for translator

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?" 

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily.

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa et al had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?"

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to ensure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because nobody knew about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone mixed into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of what we have been talking earlier," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa et al had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we were talking!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I ensured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for.

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?". Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had in stead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!"

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent from the cooking school she works at without notice," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call."

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it protrude from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine

2011-10-27T02:54:51Z

Andrewgr: Question for translator

==[Orange & Wine]==

Our classroom at the beginning of the week. Tsukimori greeted me with a warm smile upon seeing me, "Good morning."

After wavering for a few seconds, I quickly replied, "Good morning," and hurried to my desk.

I didn't want to look like a coward, but neither did I feel like arguing with her early on a Monday morning. If possible I wanted to put some distance between us and not see her face for a while. Because looking at her face would remind me of that Friday night that had become a dark memory I wanted to bury as fast as possible.

However, Tsukimori is a girl who is unaware of your feelings at such times.

"Nonomiya-kun, your collar is awry," she pointed out cheerfully and stood naturally before me as if this had been her place for a hundred years. Then she fixed my collar with her white slender fingers.

Below my eyes was her white neck. I closed them firmly for a moment as if to shake off my stray thoughts.

My collar wasn't awry at all.

"When are you visiting me next?" whispered Tsukimori, moving her lustrous lips.

She just wanted to bring Saturday's business up again. 

"As bright as you are you should be able to tell if anyone would ever come to your place again after experiencing such a night."

While I was helpless,

"I am free next week on Saturday evening. My mother should be late on that day, too, because of a meeting of the association,"

She couldn't have been more nonchalant.

"Do you even think I'd say 'Yes'?"

"Do you even think I'd want to hear 'No'?"

"It looks like I have to be clear to you since you seem to become dull when things don't go the way you want."

I approached until we were nose to nose, and declared point-blank:

"''You won't see me there a second time!''"

To top off my remark, I flashed a Tsukimori-like smile.

"You needn't be embarrassed."

However, the originator's smile was uninterrupted.

"From time to time you really behave idiotically, you know?"

"Whereas you are always mealy-mouthed, right?"

Others looking on must have seen best friends, smiling at each other from that close distance.

"Aren't Youko-san and Nonomiya kinda like... newly-weds...?"

And so some voiced unhappy, ill-informed comments with discontented expressions. Chizuru Usami had made the newly-wed remark.

I didn't know what a baby blow fish looked like, but I figured it must be somewhat like Usami just then, scowling at me with her chin on her desk and blowing up her cheeks like a balloon.

Usami really was a peculiar girl. I reckoned there weren't many people that were that adorable when in an ill temper.

While I was happily observing Usami with a sidelong glance, Tsukimori said embarrassedly, "Have you heard that? Like newly-weds!"

"A bad joke indeed."

If by any chance Tsukimori had blushed with at least one cheek, so to speak, I ''might'' have reconsidered and I ''might'' have admitted her cute sides. Unfortunately though, Youko Tsukimori couldn't be understood that easily.

[[Image:Gekkou-139.jpg|thumb]]

The next moment, her eyes changed to moon crescents. The devil hath ascended to earth. In my eyes I could see a black pointed tail growing from her.

"Welcome home, darling. Would you like to take a bath? Or would you rather like... me?"

Then she giggled amusedly.

To the others that didn't know her real nature, she must have looked like the purest girl who had successfully played a little prank.

"...a bad joke ''indeed''."

But to me it was a nightmare in many senses. One of them being that there was that one guy that couldn't keep quiet when the topic revolved around Youko Tsukimori.

"Hey! Nonomiya!"

There he stood, Kamogawa, with a grimace resembling the doorkeeper of hell.

"Of course it's the bath, right? You naturally go for the bath, right?"

Much to my chagrin, he was followed by a regiment of guys who were eager to support him, "Say it!"

"If you do not choose the bath... you know what happens then, right?"

The group exchanged glances and then simultaneously cracked a friendly smile. They were disgusting.

"Well, as a man it's clear what I take—"

It was up to me to choose, so what? Kamogawa et al had no say about it.

"—as a man one must take the meal, right?"

But I didn't like trouble.

"A wise choice, Nonomiya-kun!"

"I'm so happy you understand what I mean, Kamogawa-kun."

"Then let's go over there and hear what you have to tell us, shall we?"

"...There are no words to express my current feelings appropriately."

This marked the start of a lot of wasted time, during which I was going to be questioned whether I dated Tsukimori and during which I would have to ensure them over and over that that was not the case.

Good grief, they hadn't a clue. They could only act that frivolously because nobody knew about the murder recipe.

And without an inkling of my troubles, Tsukimori waved her hand cheerfully.

"Goodbye, darling!"

Therefore I gave her an appropriate answer.

"I'll be late tonight, honey."

Annoyance drove me to it.

I am sure that a blanket of grief must have enveloped me as I was led away like a low-grade employee who must obey his boss.

—At the time, I had already noticed that an usually noisy classmate of mine, Usami, had been silent the whole time.

But I had no time to worry about her because I had my hands full dealing with Youko Tsukimori, Kamogawa and the rest.

Well, it's hard to say if dealing with her then would have changed what happened after school.

Classes had ended and I was getting ready to leave when I was suddenly stopped by a timid Usami, "...Nonomiya?"

"What's the matter?"

"Err, I noticed that... you and Youko-san have been getting on quite well lately..."

"Not more than what's normal."

Annoyed at hearing that question again, a firm tone mixed into my voice.

Usami registered that my mood wasn't favorable and thus got even more faint-hearted.

"...but you're always together."

As I was fed up of talking about Tsukimori, I quickly declared, "We simply see each other often at work and as class officers. That's all." Then I fetched my bag and hurried out of the classroom.

But in the next moment Usami had gone round me and was blocking my way.

"Stooopp!" 

"Come on, what is it?"

"Err, say, do you have a few minutes?"

"No."

"I-It's really just a few moments, honestly!"

My stare seemed to be intimidating; she averted her eyes and looked about in the room like a frightened pygmy marmoset.

I took a deep breath—inconspicuously enough to remain unnoticed.

"Depends on what you want."

When I contemplated that I had acted a little too immature and implied that I was willing to compromise, she was visibly relieved.

Usami wasn't at fault. I had just gotten tired of Tsukimori leading me around by the nose and of being picked at by Kamogawa and his followers. In short, I had taken it out on her though she wasn't to blame.

After peeking around at our surroundings, Usami whispered to me, "I'm uncomfortable here... can we go someplace else?"

As I was ready to accompany her for whatever she wanted from me — not least because I wanted to make amends — I nodded wordlessly.

"Shall we go then...?"

Her tense face and awkward gait had me a little worried about what was to come. Still I relaxed because it was only Usami, after all.

I was led to the back of the gym, which was unusually quiet that day.

"Club activities have been suspended starting today, because of the upcoming midterm exams."

"I see." Two questions of mine, namely why the gym was so silent and why Usami wasn't busy with her club, were answered at the same time. "So? What do you want from me?"

I sat down on the concrete edge of the gym, perking up my ears.

The standard line when calling someone out to such a place would surely be "You piss me off!", followed by a quarrel, and I would have found it amusing if that actually was her issue, but as I was likely to lose to her in a serious fight, she being very athletic, I prayed that it was something else. Something peaceful.

"...It's just a continuation of what we have been talking earlier," said Usami while peeking at me from time to time, "Say, Nonomiya, are you, and Youko-san, um... you know, a couple?"

I wasn't startled. Kamogawa et al had asked me the same a few moments before. Though ''they'' added "If you are, consider yourself as dead as a doornail" with rather serious bloodshot eyes.

"Don't be silly. Of course not!" I laughed, but Usami was still in earnest.

"B-But! You're the only boy she gets on with especially well!" 

"As I mentioned earlier, that's merely because we often have to work together."

"But still! Lately, Youko-san has been mentioning you all the time when we were talking!"

"Same as above."

"But then! But then, why does Youko-san gaze at you from time to time during classes?"

"...You're barking up the wrong tree. Go ask her!"

That was new to me.

"Say what you want, but I think you two are suspicious! I know it!"

"So?"

"...eh? So what?"

Usami looked dumbfounded.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

Seeing the question marks above her head, I pressed for her answer.

"Will it make you happy if I say that we're dating?"

"No! You mustn't!" she shouted, just to make a 'Oh what have I said!'-like expression the following moment. "...Ah, n-naturally this is not something I have a say in, it's a problem between you and her after all, but, umm, I mean, isn't Youko-san, like, everyone's idol and all? So, you see,..."

Her choppy justification seemed to have no end if nobody interrupted her.

"Usami."

I tapped on the concrete next to me and signified her to take a seat. She obediently sat down there while embarrassedly toying with her hair.

"Honestly, there is nothing between Tsukimori and me," I ensured her firmly, looking into her eyes.

"I see... so there's nothing, huh."

Usami's face began to shine like a child who has been given candy. She was so easy to understand.

That was probably also the reason why I had easily noticed that she was attracted to me, even without Mirai-san's superior intuition.

"Very well then, it seems that I have gained your understanding."

When I was about to stand up, thinking that this was all, she seized my belt.

"Can I ask just one other thing?"

Originally, I planned on just ignoring her grip and standing up, after which I would take a look at her reaction, but since my hips didn't move a bit, I gave up and sat down again.

"...Please go ahead."

"Yeah, um, Nonomiya... you aren't going out with anyone at the moment, right?"

"Right."

Usami cast her eyes down.

"Then—i-is there someone you like?" she asked towards the ground. Her face was tense and her lips pursed like a duck's bill.

Her question wasn't a remarkably rare one. At least to me it wasn't something to get that flustered about anyway. Usually.

However, because of a name that flashed through my mind for a split second, I forgot to answer her.

"...W-Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her anxiety helped me find my tongue.

"...that's already the third question!"

"Uwa! You distracted me! That means there is one! There is someone you like!"

Usami widened her round eyes and leaned backward, completely shocked. I was tempted to give her a push.

"Eh? Who? Who?! Ah! It's Youko-san, isn't it? It's Youko-san!"

"Now we're back where we started. What were those minutes just now? Give me back my time and labor!" 

"But who else should it be!"

"Can you tell me what exactly makes you so sure, then?"

"My womanly intuition!"

Her prompt reply made me wonder what nonsense the pygmy marmoset was babbling, but since she really was a woman, I was powerless in front of the weapon called "womanly intuition", which remains a mystery to men.

On top of that, the name that had come to mind actually ''was'' Youko Tsukimori, so I couldn't bring myself to deny it.

"I think Youko-san sees you in a different light. I know she does, because we've known each other for a long time." The nervousness from before was disappearing. "Even if ''you'' deny it, I think she is different toward you."

Usami spoke staring straight at me with a resolute gaze.

"...and I understand you just as well, Nonomiya... You're always in my eyes, after all."

It was the gaze of someone who had made up her mind.

"I think you just aren't aware of it, but you consider her special too... I can't put it into words well, but I think you are kind of special to each other. Like, actually it would have been mutual for a while, you just haven't noticed, so what's needed is just a little push... and you know, I was like 'I have to hurry up now!', but then I thought that it would be sort of selfish of me. But then, instead of playing a good girl and having regrets, I thought that it suited me more to be a bad girl for once...go my own way and be straightforward, you know... so, umm..."

Usami hurriedly added, "J-Just a moment," took a few deep breaths and jumped to her feet.

"I, Chizuru Usami, love... you."

The way she confessed couldn't have suited Usami better.

I suppose there aren't any humans on this planet who would not like to receive such a confession from her. I became even fonder of her than before.

"Thank you," I said more or less automatically.

"Eh? Um, you're welcome...?" replied Usami, visibly confused.

I was genuinely happy about her confession since I liked her—a girl that couldn't be more different from me.

[[Image:Gekkou-149.jpg|thumb]]

A soft breeze blew gently past us as though the school building had smoothed down its edges upon passing by. The back of the gym was so calm that the usual noise felt like a mere illusion.

Suddenly, Usami stretched herself hugely like a cat and—

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

—released a yell towards the blue sky that sounded like a cat's death cry.

"Aah! I feel SO liberated now! So glad I told you!"

Her face was literally shining.

"...Sorry for disturbing you while you're savoring your attainment, but what should I do now?"

"Mh?"

"I haven't given you a reply yet, have I?"

I thought that I was supposed to return her straightforward ball, in whatever form—even if the ball went in a direction she didn't wish for.

The next moment Usami let out a laughter like a baby frog.

I actually meant to be as considerate as my limits allowed, but it seems doing something you aren't used to always yields bad results.

"...No need to strain yourself. I'm not expecting a reply anyway. I mean, we're talking about you, Nonomiya?"

She was whispering. Since she was looking at the ground, I couldn't recognize her expression.

"I don't know what's that supposed to mean, but for now I'll just be shocked."

"...you've caught my eye ever since we entered this school, and I've long known that you're not that simple. I'm not expecting a favorable answer!"

My pride didn't let me admit that she was spot on.

"I have mixed feelings about being viewed as such a guy."

I automatically shrugged. So that's what they call a loss of face.

"But you know...," started Usami timidly while swinging her legs, "I still fell in love with you, so I had no other choice but to give it my best shot!"

Her earlobes were almost as red as a ripe tomato at that moment.

"You have rather peculiar tastes, don't you?"

"W-Whose fault is that!" objected the bright red Usami.

Even her sentimental and simplistic side, which would normally be viewed as a weak point, added only to her loveliness in conjunction with her straightforward and diligent nature.

She reminded me of a certain remark.

«Someone once said that girls in love are invincible.»

Usami pointed her finger straight at me before my nose.

"But one day I will hear you say that you love me! ''Definitely''!"

Her timidness went somewhere far away, replaced by her usual vigor.

However, I noticed that that her little finger was trembling slightly.

That pet-like girl named Usami struggles doing so many things I can do easily, but at times she accomplishes feats which I can only dream of.

As was true of her confession as well.

It might be a little exaggerated, but I admired Usami. Most likely, because she had traits I could not even wish for.

And so she looked most impressive to me at this very moment, making me want to just take her in my arms.

However, I deliberately went another way.

"Interesting. Please give your best!" I said, making an unimpressed face on purpose. "But let me warn you: don't think I'd fall that easily for a girl like you!"

"What did you just say?! Keep those words in mind!"

"Yeah yeah."

"Dammit! I'll show you what a good woman is!"

I couldn't help it. After all I am a "not so simple" weirdo who thinks an angry Usami is the cutest of all of them.

And once again I arrived at the same conclusion: I would have been be so delighted if she were the one I loved the most.

It was also that moment when I became fully aware that there was one person on my mind whom I could not ignore.

The next day. It had been raining continuously since morning.

My feelings towards her were swaying in an unsure state. Too impure to be called love, yet too strong to be called interest.

It was the first time in my life that I was overcome by emotions. But if this was the price I had to pay for my autonomous mode of life, I was ready to accept and deal with that discomfort.

Of course, it was no doubt the murder recipe that put a brake on my feelings.

I am most definitely not averse to mysterious girls, but even I feel a tiny bit uneasy when it comes to endorsing a secret that exceeds the bounds of good sense.

Murder being one example thereof.

It is not easy to accept a person who may have killed someone. Not only because of ethical reasons, but also because one rebels instinctually, fearing that one might become the next target.

In any event, in fact there was a break-out solution.

It was simple actually: I just had to go ask her directly whether or not she had killed anyone.

If she answered "No", I could dismiss my exaggerated ideas with a sneer, send the crumpled murder recipe flying to the burnable trash and obtain an everyday life that was just a bit better than the status quo: a thrilling one including Youko Tsukimori.

Wasn't that sufficient to justify the venture? Asking for more would be greedy. There's always a straw that breaks the camel's back.

However, what if the answer were "Yes, I have killed someone"?

I gave thought to the fact that the content of the murder recipe was in line with the cause of her father's death. Anyone, even without a tendency to fantasizing like me, should, provided these two facts, come to the conclusion that the murder recipe was written with the objective of killing her father.

Moreover, it is completely natural to consider the author of the recipe as the murderer as a consequence.

I dropped my gaze to my shoulder. Before my eyes and nose, there was a lock of black hair painting an elegant curve.

As if riding a roller coaster, a water drop slid along that smooth hair just to eventually arrive at its end and jump into the dark gray air.

I lost a little heart when I associated my own fate with the last moments of that water drop.

Probably noticing my gaze, "Mh?" she inclined her head slightly while wearing that caring sister-like smile of hers.

"I'm drawing a little nearer. Otherwise I'll get wet."

She happily snuggled up to me as though we were a couple. As a natural consequence, her handful-sized breasts were gently nudging the region around my elbow.

Devil that she was, she must have been enjoying seducing me.

But there was nothing I could do about it. It was raining and mine was the only umbrella, narrowing my options to one. Thus the distance between us was shorter than usual.

I suspected, however, that she was hiding a collapsible one in her bag. I couldn't believe that a forward thinker like her would forget her umbrella.

Of course there was but one girl in my circle of acquaintances that conformed to the above description.

Youko Tsukimori.

We had ended that day's work and were walking toward the nearby station. Seeing her to the station after work had been a regular task of mine since the day she told us of her potential stalker.

After that night, Tsukimori had told me, "I felt really safe when I was seen home by you. If it's not a bother, would you mind accompanying me all the time?". Naturally, I had immediately refused, "No, because it is," but sadly we had been in the staffroom just then, which had in stead gained me the bother of turning the whole staff, led by Mirai-san, against me: "Come on, do it!"

I had not escaped without begging off with, "Please, let's compromise with seeing her to the station!" It was truly incomprehensible.

However, life sometimes takes an unexpected turn. To my great joy, the way to the station was ideal for talking privately with her.

I waited for the moment the traffic light turned red. "When I watched the news yesterday, I started wondering—," I began, "—why do people kill?"

Actually, I hadn't watched the news the day before. But well, there was bound to have been at least one murder, considering the current state of society.

"Oh, you're quite the philosopher today, aren't you? I like your contemplative face!" she said in a voice that was strangely wet, as if not only her hair but also her voice had been hit by the rain. "Is it because of the rain? One always gets into a somewhat sentimental mood when it is raining, don't you agree? It gets you into the mood to read books you usually wouldn't."

"Indeed, if I am acting unusual today, then it might really be because of the rain."

Her words gave me the hunch that I hadn't chosen the day by chance, but because of the bad weather.

"Anyway, would you mind sharing your thoughts?"

Our background music was composed of the rain drops lapping against my umbrella, the watery sound of tires on the asphalt and the blood circulating through my veins.

"Well—"

Tsukimori brushed away the black hair that had stuck to her cheek, releasing a scent of roses.

"—Because they feel like it, perhaps."

Her voice was indifferent.

"...Because they feel like it? That's all? Do you claim that that's reason enough to kill someone?"

I was offended by her obviously negligent answer.

"That's not it."

"What do you mean? Unless you elaborate some, a mere mortal like me can't comprehend your genius, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't be angry. I'm not joking, really. I ''do'' think so!"

She shrugged her shoulders slightly upon noticing my sidelong glare at her.

"You see, I think that in most cases the problem could actually be solved without resorting to murder, for example if it's a grudge or a fatal tangle of jealousy. Of course there are exceptions like life insurance murder."

The traffic light changed to green. A swarm of umbrellas was set in motion, leaving back only the red umbrella under which we stood.

"Don't you think that there are numerous ways of taking revenge or venting a grudge which are more effective than killing?"

I had trouble thinking of one, but I had ''no'' trouble assuming that Tsukimori knew of some.

"Every murderer has to atone appropriately for his misdeeds, be it through the law or social sanctions. There is the saying 'Live by the sword, die by the sword'. I think that applies to murder as well. Thus it is a foolish and careless method and nothing more in my opinion. There are probably many ways to call it, 'fury' or 'impulse' for instance, but it sums up to a matter of mood—a matter of 'feeling like it'—for me," she said, then added, "I consider all irrational actions as a matter of mood."

"As you say, murder might indeed be a nonsensical conduct."

I concurred with her opinion. I was even moved. But that was probably also the reason that queerly comfortable moment seemed a bit off-kilter to me.

At first glance, her well-reasoned speech made her seem like an upright model student. However, upon further thought, she was only really talking ''about the means of reaching a goal''.

Put in a nutshell, she had only argued about the effectiveness of murder as a method.

Didn't that mean that she was not absolutely disapproving of murder?

"But as you admitted yourself, there are exceptions, right?"

From my diagonal angle, I could not see all of her face. Only her mouth was barely in view.

"...For example?"

And that mouth of hers was smiling.

There we stood together under a round, small umbrella, surrounded by a massive wall of rain and night.

Even though the town was filled with all kinds of sounds, painted in various colors and packed with people, I felt somewhat separated from everything, as if we were alone in an elevator at midnight.

"For example, if you were able to kill completely unnoticed."

The cause of that phenomenon was simply me: ''I'' had locked out the world.

At that moment, Youko Tsukimori was the totality of my world.

"Could you be a little more specific? Your twisted thoughts are too complicated for an honest person like me to understand, I'm afraid."

She affected a shrug, teasing me.

"I am talking of the perfect crime, as a third party in the know would call it if a premeditated murder was deemed an accident by all the world, rather than the crime it is."

When I was done with my explanation, Tsukimori answered, giving her full concentration.

"—Indeed, we need to draw a line between unplanned murder and a perfect crime, which you can certainly not commit just by feeling like it. You have to keep a cool head and be rational if you aim for perfection."

The focus of our discussion was fully and solely on utility and efficiency—ethics and morals were not under discussion.

"But our country's police are respected worldwide, aren't they? I hear scientific crime detection is making rapid progress, too, compared to the past. Isn't the perfect crime impossible in fact?"

She smiled as if to imply that it was all just a pipe dream.

It was then that I finally found a possible reason for the awkward feeling I had sensed earlier:

Our conversation was clearly too unromantic for two teenagers clinging together in midst of the street under one umbrella. And yet there I was, absorbed in it, which was most likely because that's the kind of person I am.

The death or life of someone unrelated is of no concern to me. At most I would be curious about the death of such a person. No, my only response would be curiosity.

I was very well aware of my slightly unconventional sense.

But what about her?

Would the renowned, upright Youko Tsukimori really allow such an immoral conversation? For someone as tolerant and ever-smiling as her, talking about it to me without showing the faintest displeasure should have been no problem, even if she had to hide her disfavor.

However, it didn't look like that to me.

How so? Well, because I felt that, just like me, she—enjoyed immoral topics to the fullest.

"Okay, but then as a purely hypothetical question—"

I carefully touched the left pocket of my uniform from above. Inside it was a four-times folded scrap of paper.

"—what would you do if there was a plan that made the perfect crime possible?"

I always carried the murder recipe around with me.

The next moment, she gave a smile that reminded me of the sound of a bell.

"A good question. Indeed, I might consider murder as a means of achieving an objective if I were able to commit the perfect crime. But in my case," she said with a mischievous, crescent moon smile very much to my liking, "I would never base such a conduct on a written plan that ''might'' remain as proof later on. It would be ridiculous if a plan that makes the perfect crime possible caused it to fail. I think a plan should only and entirely be in one's head."

She pondered for a few moments, humming, and then added, "...if you ask me and think simply about it, it doesn't matter whether it is planned or just a product of coincidences. After all, it's a perfect crime if no one notices your willful action, right?"

Something unfolded before my eyes that exceeded my expectations. It almost went so far that I suspected I was dreaming while awake.

"It is entirely the result that determines whether a crime is perfect or not. However perfect a plan is, it's over as soon as someone else takes note. Put the other way, however 'flimsy' a plan is, it is a perfect crime as long as ''no one'' takes note."

Suddenly, I noticed that I was shivering.

"But don't you agree that mistakes are inherent if a human takes part? Humans ''are'' imperfect, after all. It's the imperfect human that makes the mistake in the very end. So, eventually I think it is the executor who holds the final key."

Not because I was cold. Not because the weather was getting dreadful. Not because she scared me.

"To sum up my thoughts, the most important condition for a perfect crime is neither a perfect plan nor a perfect execution, but a perfect human—"

I was probably trembling with excitement. Because I seemed to be extremely agitated.

She giggled.

"Laughable, isn't it? That's just another impracticable theory on paper; perfect humans do not exist after all. Well, of course the ones who are to investigate the crime are human, too, so there are mistakes on that side as well. But still I think that a perfect crime is infeasible unless you come upon a remarkable succession of coincidences."

SoICantHaveKilledMyFatherRightNonomiyaKun?

Perhaps my warped personality was just playing with me, but I couldn't help thinking that that was what she proclaimed.

I shook my head strongly.

"Highly doubtful."

I turned towards her and looked into her big almond eyes. "Why?" she asked, giving a moon-like smile again, while reflecting me on her retina.

"You lied. You claimed there were no perfect humans in the world—but I know of at least one in my vicinity."

She didn't ask "Who?" but only nodded briefly, "I see."

...She got me there. That way it was only funnier!

It was all Youko Tsukimori's fault that I was more talkative than usual and felt my heart throb with excitement.

Why were the thrilling conversations with her so amusing?

Perhaps I was simply drawing pleasure from talking about immoral topics—but what if the other party hadn't been her? Would it have been just as enjoyable?

One the one hand, I tended to be annoyed by her behavior, but on the other hand, there seemed to be some anticipation of associating with her deep within my heart.

So did it even matter what we would talk about? By associating with her, wasn't I just seeking a thrill that hadn't existed in my previous everyday life because of the murder recipe? Wasn't ''that'' the reason why I—unconsciously—kept on walking a tightrope without getting to the point?

Wasn't I afraid of awaking and being drawn back to the boring reality if I confronted her with the murder recipe?

There was no sense of justice in my actions. There was only interest, curiosity and the desire to learn more about her.

So all I wanted might have been a link to the fascinating person named Youko Tsukimori.

However, at the same time I also wanted to make sure whether she really had used the murder recipe to kill her father. I contradicted myself.

—Yes. I was about to make the next step towards her.

I was craving knowledge of a face of hers that no one knew.

The green light of the traffic light started to blink again. The nth red light awaited us.

The rain still showed no sign of weakening and hit the asphalt in a steady rhythm. The crush of people heading towards the station, however, had become sparser as the temperature dropped in town.

I recovered my breath silently so that she wouldn't notice my growing excitement. Then I slowly led my fingers through between my buttons, reaching into my inside pocket.

—I had made up my mind. I intended to ask her directly about the murder recipe.

But then, all of a sudden, Tsukimori embraced me from front. I was caught with my fingers still in my pocket, unable to take them out.

"...I'm cold," murmured Tsukimori along with a white sigh before I could raise my voice in surprise.

Her upward-glance was watery, her black hair soaked, the way she leaned against me with all her weight sexy and her beautiful lips at my chin's height seemed to beg for a kiss.

The soft touch I could feel beyond her uniform was still the same, but she had grown cold indeed.

It ''was'' my mistake to have her talk that long in a wet state, but neither was I crazy nor so experienced in love matters as to hug a girl with all the eyes of the town upon us just because of that.

I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to release myself from her embrace, but she immediately shook her head, stubbornly saying, "No!" and hugged me even stronger. Contrary to her childish attitude, her body was more than mature enough to give rise to some complicated feelings on my part.

It was then that I felt a vibration at Tsukimori's breasts, which were pressed against me.

"...what a shame for the good mood."

While making a regretful face, she took her mobile phone out of her chest pocket. It was quite ticklish when she operated it at zero distance.

I slid my hand out of my jacket and tucked it into a pocket of my trousers. My excitement was entirely spoiled by that intrusive phone call.

"...Yes, Youko speaking."

Her expression became earnest promptly after she had begun the conversation.

"...my mother? No, I haven't heard of anything. She was at home when I left for school this morning."

As they exchanged words, her expression got darker and darker. I couldn't perceive what the caller was saying, but it was obviously not good news.

"...Yes. I understand. I'll return. Yes. If I find out something I will immediately give you a call."

She cut the connection and let out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She gazed at me with watery eyes for a few seconds, hesitating.

"...my mother was absent from the cooking school she works at without notice," she replied at last, "She would never do that. Thus, someone of the staff was worrying about her and gave me a call."

"Maybe she's sick?"

I voiced a cheap word of consolation.

"I wonder... he told me that he has tried calling our home number several times. Of course, he tried her mobile as well. But it didn't connect, so he called me, her daughter, since I might know something..."

She cut off her sentence and started to ponder, furling her long eyebrows.

I let out a sigh. Somehow I sensed that nothing but trouble was waiting for me.

"Let's hurry home."

I grabbed her cold hand firmly and walked towards the station, pulling her behind me.

"...eh?"

I heard her confused voice from diagonally behind.

"Seems like you're in for some trouble, so I won't stop you any longer and go home," I said quickly. "—Saying that would have suited me better, I guess... But seeing you make such a face, how should I leave you to your own devices? Besides, I don't even want to think about Mirai-san's reaction if I left you at this point."

To my plain remark, she replied: "This warped side of your personality is so lovely."

I heard her pleased voice from diagonally behind.

Thinking that she was teasing me, I promptly searched for a nice objection. However, when she whispered, "...Thanks," at my ear and I felt her freezing fingers that held firmly to me, I became unable to complain.

Not a soul was to be seen in the dark and cold residential area. The unceasing rain falling upon us conjured up a sense of isolation in me, notwithstanding that Tsukimori was by my side.

We hurried up the long, steep stairs, at which end ''that'' house awaited us—with its very unique geometrical design that made it protrude from the rest of the rich neighborhood.

Tsukimori had tried countless times calling her home phone and her mother's mobile phone underway, but the only voice she got to hear was the response of the answering machine. Because of pressing restlessness, I suspect, I heard none of her easygoing remarks anymore at the time we reached our destination.

Pathetic though it was, I found myself unable to find the right words to console her.

I followed Tsukimori through the entrance. There was an absolute silence inside.

The end of the long corridor blended with the darkness. The dire situation made it seem to me as if we had lost our way into an eerie haunt of devils.

When I took off my loafers at the entrance, she said, "...you'll catch cold. Wait a moment, I'll get you a towel."

While swiftly proceeding through the dark corridor, Tsukimori confidently flipped several switches on the wall, filling the house gradually with light.

I slowly walked through the lit corridor to the living room, where I started to wait for her.

I gazed at the arrangement which had remained unchanged from last time, and as it had then, the tranquility made my ears sensitive. Thinking back, we were alone that night.

So this time we were probably alone, too.

No one else was here. That's what my intuition told me the moment I had made my first step into the building.

Well, of course it was possible that her mother had collapsed somewhere in the house, but judging from what Tsukimori said when she returned, "When I went to fetch the towel, I also peeked into several rooms, but I didn't find her. She might not be here...," her mother ''was'' absent.

"I just hope she hasn't been involved in some accident..."

I smiled at the pondering Tsukimori.

"But maybe it's not such a big deal and she just didn't feel like going to work because of all the rain today, you know."

"You mean she simply ditched work?"

"Well, I, for one, often seriously consider escaping from school or work and going out somewhere when I ride my bike on nice days."

I found my own remark laughable.

"I hope so."

But thanks to her laughing faintly, I was spared from self-loathing.

"Perhaps there's a message for you somewhere? A note or something that says where she is and what she's doing?"

"You're right. I'll take a look."

Tsukimori nodded cheerfully to my suggestion. Apparently, she had regained her usual composure.

I unobtrusively followed Tsukimori into the kitchen.

As much as I felt bad about taking advantage of her worries about her mother's safety, I certainly did not intend to miss out on a chance to openly search her home.

An elegant system kitchen with a yellow theme filled my view.

"As expected from a teacher at a cooking school," I commented on the large fridge, the unfamiliar cookware and the various ingredients.

"Made in Italy if I remember correctly."

While Tsukimori was inspecting the kitchen, I looked around without anything better to do and took one of her mother's cookbooks to flick through it.

I didn't actually hope to find a message. Would be nice if there was one. Personally, I hoped much more to find something related to the murder recipe.

For example—a bit of new information about the recipe.

I was aware that I was being indiscreet. However, in all honesty I was fond of that kind of mood. I was enjoying a thrill comparable to detective work or exploring of a cave for a treasure.

"It looks like there is nothing here. Maybe in her room...?" said Tsukimori gloomily and left the kitchen, wordlessly followed by me.

She opened one of the doors alongside the corridor. The instant the door went open, I could smell the overly sweet scent of perfume.

The walls were covered with white wallpaper, a curtain decorated with lace, a dressing table put at the wall and a dresser that was laden with countless makeup goods. It was obviously the room of her mother.

"You get on well with your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, certainly not badly."

On the nightstand by the bed, which had a flower pattern, there were several picture frames, each of which depicted Tsukimori and her mother.

"Did your parents sleep separately?"

There was only one bed in the room - a bed for one person only.

"I have always thought this way was natural, but is it more common that spouses sleep in one room, after all? Well, it probably is. Perhaps they did so because both of them had to work, and I guess it was more convenient this way due to those circumstances."

"At my place, both the parents sleep together, whether peacefully or not I couldn't say, in a king-size bed. But judging from the 'I woke up in the middle of the night because you kept stealing my blanket', which I often hear my mother shout in the early morning, I guess they get on well."

She flashed a warm smile while listening to me.

"You have fantastic parents."

Therefore, I just answered expressionlessly, "They're normal."

"I don't want to stay too long in a lady's room," I said and left the room quickly to wait in the corridor. I was merely annoyed by the overly-sweet perfume.

I asked Tsukimori, who was searching the area around the dressing table in the meanwhile: "Where is your father's room?"

I can't say I had no ulterior motive.

"You can find it just on the opposite side."

Neither can I deny that this was a pretext to explore her house on my own.

"We'd should probably search separately. I'll look through the room of your father."

But it's also true that I wanted to do a good deed, much as it didn't suit me, and help her out at least a little after seeing her behaving with such maturity.

"That would be a great help. But his room might be a little dusty. It has been left untouched since his passing...," said Tsukimori apologetically.

"I don't mind," I replied and headed towards the door opposite.

My first impression was that it looked like a library.

All of the books that covered one wall of the room dealt with construction, which I noticed when I fixed my eyes on their spines. On the shiny silver desk was a large pile of books and a desktop PC. Both sides of the desk were equipped with a cordless telephone each. I figured that this room served as both his library and working area.

As Tsukimori had warned me, my steps left behind footprints outlined in dust on the floor. There was also a lot of dust on the window frames.

I stopped. I had registered a sound.

According to Tsukimori, that room was supposed to be untouched. But still a subtle sound resembling the buzz of a mosquito reached my ears.

It was the sound of a small fan.

I stood before the silver desk. The PC seemed to be turned on, though in sleep mode. I pressed a random key.

"—Tsukimori."

The instant I saw the display, I called her name.

She then came from the neighboring room and, squinting one eye, asked, "Mm?".

"This," I said, pointing at the screen.

Indeed, her mother had left a note with a message.

"That's...," she muttered, surprised, and kept silent, staring at the screen, as though time had frozen. The only sounds in the room was the rain hitting the window and the regular buzzing of the computer fan.

At the time, I could do nothing but watch her beautiful yet so sorrowful face from the side.

Her mother's name was typed in the "notepad" on the screen, along with the following short comment.

«I'm sorry»

On that day, I didn't get home until past three at night in a police car.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Cigarette Tiger|Cigarette Tiger]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare

2011-10-26T22:31:16Z

Andrewgr: correct form

==[Sweet Nightmare]==

At the staff room after closing time.

"I would like you to see me home," requested Tsukimori after changing into her school uniform.

"See you home...?" I repeated warily like a parrot.

"You see, I always feel someone's gaze on me on the way from the café to the train station..."

She gave a shiver.

"Aren't you just being paranoid?" I wanted to say at first, but I reconsidered because it was quite possible in her case. After all, she was no doubt eye-catching. Instead, I suggested, "Then you should consult the police rather than me."

"Weak, Nonomiya! That's weak! Come on, be a man and protect her!"

Mirai-san, who had apparently followed our exchange, thumped a table close to her. The staff nearby turned around, surprised, to see what was going on.

"I don't mean to brag, but I don't have confidence in my strength. Even if she gets attacked by a stalker, the best I can do is get beaten up myself."

"You aren't bragging at all! And if you're a man, you ought to bravely fight all the same, even if you have to put your neck on the line!"

"I'm under the impression that you would make a better bodyguard than me, Mirai-san."

"Moron! I'm a delicate young lady, you know? I also need to be protected."

I shrugged exaggeratedly and took a look at the faces of the rest of the staff. They could only answer my gaze with lopsided smiles because they feared her, but their real thoughts were bound to be the same as mine.

"Very funny, indeed."

"Heh, does your face look like you wanna complain? Nonomiya?"

Mirai-san drew closer with glaring eyes.

"Mirai-san, let it be. If Nonomiya-kun refuses so adamantly, there is nothing that can be done about it. I will try my best to get home alone...," Tsukimori sighed and plodded towards the entrance.

The very moment before she closed the door—

"..................haah..."

—She let out a deep sigh that resounded through the whole staffroom.

All gazes focused on me at once, each of which was reproachful. A close friend can become a close enemy, indeed.

"See her off, Nonomiya-kun," said the manager at last, siding with Tsukimori like the others.

Powered by this, the whole staff started criticizing me. I was attacked from all sides. Outnumbered. I was completely made out to be the bad guy.

"Fine, fine, I've got it already! I'll go see her home, okay?" I groaned and jumped out of the uncomfortable staffroom to run after Tsukimori.

To my surprise, I caught up with her immediately after leaving the café.

Tsukimori was leaning against a telephone pole in front of the shop, waiting below a street light like the queen of the night.

"I knew you would come."

She spotted me and smiled like a blooming flower—revealing to me that my action wasn't unexpected at all.

I looked up at the night sky in order to suppress my boiling emotions. A crescent moon grinned at me tonight.

"You're not fair."

"What do you mean?"

"What are you scheming?"

"That's not nice, you know? As a girl I am very frightened to walk alone at night, you know?"

"Then why didn't you have your mother pick you up, or ask someone else among the staff see you off, or contact the police?"

"As always, you seem to have no idea of how a girl's heart works. I wanted ''you'' to see me home."

She laughed as though she was humming and linked her arm in mine. ''"Shampoo?"'' I wondered silently as I could perceive a sweet fragrance of flowers from her.

"Let's go."

From my experiences so far I had learned that one couldn't get free so easily once Tsukimori had taken the lead, but it was also fact that I, only ''unwillingly'' accepting her lead, certainly had no submissive nature.

Therefore, the few meters during which my arm was pressed against her full bosom were the purest humiliation to me.

I was beyond hope, though, because for just a second I had thought that, while Youko Tsukimori herself may have been the most ill-natured woman on earth, her soft bosom was blameless.

"I won't run away, so please stop this," I begged her with a sigh mixed in, and finally shook her off.

"Too bad. And we had finally created such a nice mood."

Tsukimori was sullen, but her steps remained light.

While watching her black hair dance behind her, I let out a loud sigh.

It may go without saying, but ''my'' steps were heavy.

We got on a train heading out of the city and passed through four stations while getting a good shake. When we alighted at our destination, we were in a residential zone in the outskirts.

"I live over there. A few minutes' walk from here."

Tsukimori pointed at a hill. I saw immediately that we would have a hard time climbing, looking at all the slopes and stairs that could be seen there. The sight alone had me dispirited.

"Don't frown like that. Going out with me means coming up this way all the time, you know?"

"My sympathies to your boyfriend."

"Don't worry. You'll get used to it in no time."

Tsukimori walked off without caring about my sagging spirits. "Look, the stars are beautiful tonight," she said, sounding easy-going.

Since I didn't want to turn around after coming so far, I followed her reluctantly.

It was a tranquil residential area and rather "classy".

The streets were lit with comparatively short gaps, but it was still eerily dark around us. I had to admit that the shivering she had shown earlier might have been more than mere acting.

As expected, I was completely drained by the time we came to a stop. Tsukimori, accustomed as she was, showed no indication of strain, making her appear more irritating than ever to me.

"Here we are," proclaimed Tsukimori and stood before the entrance.

It was a large white building. The term "mansion" might be appropriate.

Since her father had been the head of a construction design company, it was a rather fancy design, constructed with tetrahedrons systematically put together, giving it an overall geometric feel. I would have nodded in comprehension if someone had told me it was the house of a physicist.

There was no light inside, so her mother was apparently absent.

While I was curiously looking up at the house, Tsukimori tugged at my sleeve.

"Now that you're here, why don't you come in?"

Her proposal was most suspicious and virtually crying out to be doubted.

I knew it would be a pain if anyone got wind of that visit. If, on top of that, the guys at school learned that no one else had been in the house at the time, the rumors that might emerge from it exceeded my imagination. Especially in Kamogawa's case... I didn't even want to think about it.

By now I was sure everything had been an act of hers to make me enter her house. It would certainly rub me the wrong way if her plan succeeded.

"Good idea. I'm pretty thirsty; can I come in for a drink?"

Nonetheless, I accepted her offer because it was a very rare opportunity.

Though I had, as a matter of fact, ''suspended'' doubting her due to a lack of progress, I had by no means ''stopped''. The suspicion due to the murder recipe was still smoldering in my mind.

Originally I had expected that new progress would come from associating with her and learning more about her, but all my attempts had remained fruitless. The more I was in touch with her, the less I understood her true nature. I had no clue how to distinguish between her jokes and her serious statements. In other words, she was as slippery as an eel.

Hence, I had come to the conclusion that it might be better to approach her mother. From what I had seen of her at the funeral, she was not as complicated a person as Tsukimori. It shouldn't be necessary to probe Tsukimori herself to find out about her relationship to her father.

I followed Tsukimori into the house. Not a sound was to be heard inside.

While taking off my shoes at the entrance, I asked: "What time is your mother coming back?"

"Do you have a soft spot for older women?" teased Tsukimori with a laugh.

"At least more than for you," I answered—with an earnest face as a test.

"Now that's a shock, even if it is meant as a joke."

Tsukimori shook her head while taking out some slippers for us.

It seemed that I had taken the lead.

"My mother has gone out and will be back late. Today is your chance!"

"...just what sort of chance would that be, I wonder?"

I pushed her head away, since she had come closer to peek at my face.

And the lead went back to Tsukimori.

"I only wanted to introduce myself to her since I'm here."

"Oh, that pleases me to hear. Did you finally warm up to me?"

"I don't know how you took my words, but let me assure you that you're wrong."

I followed her into the living room.

"I'll bring something to drink. Make yourself comfortable on the sofa."

Tsukimori disappeared into the neighboring room, turning on the light there. Half of a well-equipped system kitchen entered my view.

I let my gaze sweep through the living room.

Like the outside, the residence of the Tsukimoris looked quite respectable from the inside: there was a leather sofa with an amber luster and a queerly shaped glass table which even an amateur could identify as a designer table. Furthermore, I found a terrifyingly large LCD TV and luxurious hi-fi equipment. The rumors were true: they were quite a wealthy family.

To my disappointment however, there was nothing special apart from that, like an object that would have served me as a clue for Tsukimori's relationship with her father.

Well, it was only natural that nothing too peculiar was placed in the living room where a lot of people went in and out. Unfortunately, though, I didn't have any pretext that would have allowed me to look through the other rooms, either. I couldn't help feeling that I had forfeited the rare chance of getting into her house.

I was still reeling in disappointment when Tsukimori came back with a tray of drinks.

"I hope you are fine with black tea?"

"Perfectly."

I intended to leave after emptying my cup. There was no use in staying for too long. However, Tsukimori had apparently read my intentions: "Make yourself at home! It's only Saturday tomorrow, so there's no need to hurry, right?"

"Are you out of your mind? I'm a man, you know?"

As if to make her the outlet of my letdown, my wording became a little harsh. I realized that I was acting pretty selfishly, since she wasn't to blame that I had set my own expectations too high.

"That only supports my argument! A boy should never leave an anxious girl behind alone."

"But this is your own home."

"Do you believe stalkers care about such obstacles?"

"How should I know how a stalker thinks? In the first place, that story sounds quite fishy to me anyway."

"Too bad," Tsukimori sighed slightly. "You sure don't let me have my way, Nonomiya-kun."

"That's my line. You lead me by the nose all the time!" I objected promptly. I was naturally unable to just accept it that my opponent forestalled me in saying what had constantly been on my mind.

A moment later, she whispered in a voice that was too loud to be a monologue: "...I wonder if I should consult Mirai-san about Nonomiya-kun..."

I almost spit out my black tea.

"...is that a threat?"

I stared with hostile eyes at Tsukimori.

"It's unavoidable. I simply wish to receive a piece of good advice from an older woman like Mirai-san. There's nothing strange about it, is there?"

Tsukimori covered half of her face under a cushion as if to block my gaze.

"Consulting Mirai-san about love problems is like asking the devil the way to heaven."

"That was a good one."

Tsukimori buried her nose in the cushion and giggled.

"It's no laughing matter. It's a most serious matter of life and death!"

I almost got a headache just by imagining a merry Mirai-san teasing me. I would surely have to say farewell to my busy yet peaceful work life, because she would be asking me about Tsukimori non-stop.

"I would not mind the colleagues at the café knowing about us. I don't like having secrets."

"''You'' don't mind."

Tsukimori may have been used to being the center of attention, but I was not. Just the thought of capturing everyone's attention gave me the shivers.

A comfortable role as a spectator suited me best. Everyone has his own qualities.

"To be frank, I would love to openly attempt winning you over."

"After all, you seem to be good at getting all the others on your side, right?" I said with a full load of sarcasm.

"An inborn virtue of mine?" countered Tsukimori without trouble.

"You don't say. You are a schemer, an actor and, if we get to the heart of it, just plain wicked. It's just that everyone is being deceived by your beautiful looks and doesn't notice your deadly thorns."

"You think I am beautiful? I am on cloud nine!"

"Where have the 'deadly thorns' gone?"

"Paying regard to things that aren't true goes against my principles."

Judging from her serious mien, she did not in the least mean to be joking. Most likely she was even scandalized, in fact.

But strangely enough, I also realized that a girl as "eye-catching" as her might actually need such nerves of steel.

"Would you like another cup?" smiled Tsukimori, ladylike and slightly inclining her head, with a porcelain tea pot in her hand.

"Please."

I held out my tea cup to her, waving the white flag in my mind.

I had chosen to watch her devilish scheme for a little longer.

Thirty minutes later.

"Your mother is pretty late," I addressed Tsukimori, who was sitting opposite of me.

"Yes, she said she would be."

"When is she going to be back then?"

"Hm... sometime around ten, I suppose?"

"That makes thirty minutes from now, huh."

I was starting to feel uncomfortable sharing the same time and room, just the two of us, but I was willing to bear up another half an hour and lay back in the sofa.

Tsukimori murmured, "Well, twenty-four hours from now, to be exact."

I bolted upright on the sofa and stared at her. She was leisurely browsing through a fashion magazine.

"What does that mean?"

"She has gone on a company outing and will be back tomorrow."

"—You deceived me?"

I was surprised myself by how deep my tone was.

"I honestly told you she would be late."

"How's that honest!? I'm leaving," I declared , stood up and headed towards the entrance. Most of the irritation was at myself for readily taking her bait.

Suddenly, something soft enveloped my arm. Tsukimori had clasped it.

"...please, don't leave me alone. I'm frightened!"

Her begging attitude and the soft touch against my arm made me falter.

The unusual fragility she was showing me was more than enough to activate my protective instinct—even if it was a deliberate action of hers to seduce me.

But my rationality cooled down the overwhelming reality and kept me from making a wrong decision.

"Your charm doesn't work on me! Besides, that's not fair. I never have accepted going out with you."

Two teenagers alone under one roof — an alluring setting. Being a boy in his teens myself, I was naturally interested in what would happen in such a situation, all the more if the girl in question was Youko Tsukimori.

"I don't mind if it's you."

As expected, she tried to capture me with inviting eyes and sweet words.

Had I met Youko Tsukimori under any other circumstances, I would have stood no chance against her seduction.

"I feel honored, but I have no such intentions!"

However, unlike the Nonomiya in that hypothetical world, the real one bore up against her. Because, much more than I was hoping for an alluring development, I was scared.

It was wariness that sustained my rationality.

What was Youko Tsukimori scheming?

It was then that I felt that I had caught a glimpse of the true intention behind her request to date her.

Perhaps, Tsukimori didn't have in mind to get rid of me, but to get me under her control?

She was well aware of her own attractiveness and knew how to use it effectively. I had been able to observe that fact more than enough lately. So, perhaps she was trying to make me her faithful puppet of sorts? She could be sure that I would not leak her secret in that case, couldn't she?

Of course, provided that she really had noticed that I knew of and had the murder recipe.

Either way, I had to get out of there as fast as possible. Even if my assumptions were true and confirmed by Tsukimori at that, it was only a matter of time until I would give in to her.

Because her words may have been lies, ''but her attractiveness was a fact''.

As things stood, I was going to fall victim to her venom. I knew for sure that as soon as that happened, the poison would spread slowly but surely and paralyze my will to resist.

I shook her off and hurried towards the entrance, but Tsukimori rushed after me in the same breath. This time she clung to me from behind, restraining me.

Her warmth, her softness, her entrancing fragrance blended into a charm deluding the senses and attacked me from behind.

"...It does not matter what you feel for me..."

Her soft breath touched the nape of my neck. I knew that I had to escape, but I couldn't move a muscle.

"...touch me... do whatever you want with me..."

Her delightful words entered my head through my eardrums and turned into paralyzing electrical signals flashing through my entire body. My poisoned legs had already lost the strength to resist a single high school girl.

[[Image:Gekkou-122.jpg|thumb]]

She gently pushed me into the sofa, leaning against me. The lamp behind Tsukimori created a mystic contrast on her face. She placed her head on my shoulder and put her hands lightly on my chest—as if to feel my heartbeat. Her white, slender neck was exposed to me right by my chin.

While I was still bereft of speech, she whispered into my ear, "Please. I want you to."

It sounded to me like a saint's enigmatic absolution.

A moment later, she nibbled the defenseless nape of my neck.

The soft sensation of her tender red lips caused my shoulders to jump. I had never experienced such an impulse before, it was similar to tickling but still different.

My body was about to run out of control. In an attempt to push her away, I slid my hands between us and thrust towards the ceiling. Unwilling to be separated, she resisted and twisted her body. My resisting hands merely brushed against her soft breasts, stroked her smooth sides and lost themselves in blank space.

At that moment, Tsukimori uttered a suppressed moan and writhed, still straddling me.

It was smashing. My rationality was entirely blown away by her unexpectedly sensitive reaction.

Letting my instincts take over, I swapped places and sat astride her. I laid one hand on the white nape of her neck and traced her lush red lips with my fingers. I inhaled her intensive flowery scent, kissed her collarbone and put my knee between her thighs.

She reacted exquisitely to each of my actions. I was aware that the blood circulating in my veins was enraptured by pleasure.

Right now———Youko Tsukimori was under my control.

That feeling of elation was far beyond normal. Even I, the cool thinker by principle, would have loved screaming as my feelings told me.

While frantically suppressing the urge to rush, I kept on caressing Tsukimori. I wanted the pleasure to hold on for as long as possible.

However, I was suddenly stricken by a shock that made my heart skip a beat. I had noticed her unusual reaction.

"—You're trembling."

Tsukimori blinked a few times with her eyes that in passion had lost focus.

"...I am?" she asked with gentle lip-movements, her voice full of heat.

She was unaware of it herself, but she was trembling all over.

Feelings of guilt that I had pushed aside as my rationality had gone out of the window suddenly sprung up in me like water.

"...we really shouldn't be doing this. Let's stop," I stated while raising my body.

Tsukimori's "tremor" appeared to me like "rejection".

I certainly didn't stop because I was a good person but, on the other hand, neither did I enjoy subjugating girls against their will for my own satisfaction.

I was frightened, plain and simple. Frightened of shouldering a sin against ''her'' that could not be amended.

She was still lying on the sofa, looking up at me with wondering eyes. Behind her rumpled uniform, I could see her bulging snow-white skin. I averted my gaze automatically.

"Why? Didn't I say it's fine?"

"But you are trembling."

"That's because of excitement!"

"I don't think so."

"It is!"

The next moment, Tsukimori said something I couldn't believe.

"It's my first time after all!"

"So I can't help it," she added.

No words.

I cast her off and stood up as if to retreat.

"Why?!" I shouted, channeling all my bewilderment into one word. That was the only thing I could do.

"Everyone has a first time," replied Tsukimori with girlishly pure eyes.

"But that's not how you go about it!"

"That's different for everyone."

"...do as you please as long as it's your own problem. But this time it's me that would have been your partner, you get that?"

"Yes, you are right, I don't know if I am able to satisfy you because it's my first time...," she worried.

She had to be joking.

"Ah, but I'm positive that I will develop excellent skills the more we do it. You know that I'm a fast learner, right? Be it at school or at work."

However, Tsukimori looked dead serious.

"That's not the problem!!"

When was the last time I had become that agitated? I couldn't remember. Thank you very much for this valuable experience, Tsukimori.

"Why are you always so... so reckless!"

"I am surprised myself."

"Don't act so unconcerned!"

"Someone once said that girls in love are invincible; there might be more truth to it than I thought. After all I do feel capable of anything right now," she nodded approvingly.

"Please, don't only think about yourself..." I let out a grand sigh. "In the first place, what happened to the rumors about you? Haven't you gone out with numerous boys so far?"

It's not like I believed her offhandedly.

A girl like Tsukimori should have had countless opportunities to lose "it" in her life. Wasn't she just playing with me?

"...I don't want to tell you," she averted her gaze to the side.

"You can't say that after dragging me in like that, can you? I have the right to know."

"I don't care."

"Don't be such a child."

"I bet you see me as some kind of slut!"

Tsukimori pursed her lips.

She was now sounding queerly like a precocious little girl. Where did the bewitching girl go that seduced me?

"Fine! I won't ask anymore if you don't want to tell me."

I thought there was no use questioning her in that thickheaded state.

"...Do you really want me to tell you?"

"...Which is it now!"

Good heavens. As always she was hard to read.

Tsukimori took a deep breath and made up her mind.

"I'll be honest. I have gone out with several boys until now."

"As I thought."

"Hey, that's not nice, you know. Let me assure you: I may have gone out with various boys, but not once have I given myself to anyone. I didn't even let them touch me like you have. Honestly."

"You want me to buy that?"

"They were all good and kind people and really loved me."

"...Good for you..."

"But every time something felt off. In some way I knew that none of them was my destined partner," she told me with slightly downcast eyes, wallowing in reminiscences.

"Then why me?"

"Because you seemed different from the others! In the beginning it was just a baseless intuition, of course. At first I wanted to go out with you without thinking too deeply, as I used to do with the other boys. Because getting someone to date me is simple."

"That sure doesn't sound like something someone my age would say. Come on, how old are you really?"

Tsukimori found my apathetic attitude funny, it seemed. She giggled with great amusement.

"But I had not dreamed that you would reject me."

"So sorry for not living up to your expectations."

"No, by no means! Thanks to that, I gained a sudden burst of enthusiasm. So the result is absolutely fine!"

"...That's how life goes, I guess. Never the way you want it to."

Tsukimori's triumphant joy had the opposite effect on my mood. She made me remember that whatever I did to her always ended up backfiring on me.

"Indeed... I wonder why things never work out the way you want them in life."

This time it was me who couldn't help laughing, seeing her say that with a solemn mien.

"If ''you'' of all people don't get your way, us commoners are stumped."

The worries of someone who had everything seemed incredibly ridiculous to me.

"You are all just overestimating me, really."

"But you deserve to be overestimated, from a neutral point of view."

"Why is it that I cannot make you mine, then?"

She squinted at my eyes as if to peek into my heart.

"...Who knows? It's a riddle even to me," I answered vaguely, looking away. For obvious reasons I could have never told her that it's because the murder recipe was on my mind.

"Meany."

"Call me whatever you like."

"But I like you anyway, Nonomiya-kun, even if you are cruel and mean to me," laughed Tsukimori while brushing her hair. It was a gorgeous demeanor. "How can I explain it...? It is just so enjoyable to talk with you."

She carefully chose her words, which made me realize that she was trying her utmost to convey her feelings precisely.

"You could say that we are... trying to outdo each other? Our conversation feel so exciting and enjoyable to me because they're unpredictable. I just can't talk enough with you."

Her words silenced me, and caused me to stare at her. I was struck by surprise that she was of the same mind as me.

Strong sympathy can change ridiculously easily into a sense of closeness.

Indeed, at that very instant, Youko Tsukimori became a special girl to me.

"When I imagined how stimulating every day would become if I went out with you, I realized that you had to be my destined partner. So I did not really need to hesitate. You are the one I deemed destined for me; I wanted you to have my first time."

To make matters worse, she looked even more attractive now that I had become conscious of her. I've heard subjectivity incorporates a function that applies a filter to the brain that makes you interpret things in your favor.

"I didn't know I was so bold."

"And I wish I didn't know that you were so sharp tongued."

I shrugged extensively for show. Of course, I was not at all composed. It was quite the contrary: I was disturbed. You could say that I had a hard time dealing with the radical change of my feelings.

I had previously regarded any situation objectively with the utmost effort in order to bear up against Tsukimori and her staggering presence. Otherwise I would have fallen victim to her charm like everyone else.

However, now that subjectivity had mixed into my view, I couldn't remain calm anymore. My awakened instincts told me to savor the defenseless fruit before my eyes.

"I'm leaving."

This time I seriously had to leave or I would end up loathing myself.

"Don't you want to check?"

I heard Tsukimori's voice behind me when I was walking towards the living room door.

"Check what?"

"—Whether it really would have been my first time or not."

I felt the urge to turn around, but I chose to remain on course.

She would have surely shown me a devilish smile that very much met my preference and ruined my newly gained determination.

"Please forget what happened today. I wasn't myself."

"I don't want to," she declared.

"It's in both our interests."

"It's a valuable memory of the 'destined partner' I finally found."

"I'm stunned that you can use that phrase so carelessly. Say that again in ten years."

"I am not using the word carelessly. Didn't you know that every girl is searching for her 'destined partner' from the moment she is born?"

"Well, my sympathies for all the trouble."

With that parting shot I opened the door. In that instant, I heard footsteps rushing towards me resounding on the flooring.

"Are you really leaving me?"

...No use using such lonely words.

"Of course."

"Even though I want you to stay so much?"

...No use using such pleading words.

"Well, ''I'' want to go home as fast as possible."

"You really are hard to deal with, Nonomiya-kun," she said, sighing.

I spontaneously turned around and glared at her. "You're the last person I want to hear that from!"

Tsukimori laughed heartily at seeing my unwilling attitude.

...Please, let me go already.

"Goodbye."

"Be seeing you."

Even though I intentionally stomped on the floor to express my bad temper, I happened to see her sad and weak wave goodbye. It would be a lie to say that I didn't feel anything while closing the front door.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Bitter Chocolate|Bitter Chocolate]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine|Orange & Wine]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare

2011-10-26T22:28:33Z

Andrewgr: reads better

==[Sweet Nightmare]==

At the staff room after closing time.

"I would like you to see me home," requested Tsukimori after changing into her school uniform.

"See you home...?" I repeated warily like a parrot.

"You see, I always feel someone's gaze on me on the way from the café to the train station..."

She gave a shiver.

"Aren't you just being paranoid?" I wanted to say at first, but I reconsidered because it was quite possible in her case. After all, she was no doubt eye-catching. Instead, I suggested, "Then you should consult the police rather than me."

"Weak, Nonomiya! That's weak! Come on, be a man and protect her!"

Mirai-san, who had apparently followed our exchange, thumped a table close to her. The staff nearby turned around, surprised, to see what was going on.

"I don't mean to brag, but I don't have confidence in my strength. Even if she gets attacked by a stalker, the best I can do is get beaten up myself."

"You aren't bragging at all! And if you're a man, you ought to bravely fight all the same, even if you have to put your neck on the line!"

"I'm under the impression that you would make a better bodyguard than me, Mirai-san."

"Moron! I'm a delicate young lady, you know? I also need to be protected."

I shrugged exaggeratedly and took a look at the faces of the rest of the staff. They could only answer my gaze with lopsided smiles because they feared her, but their real thoughts were bound to be the same as mine.

"Very funny, indeed."

"Heh, does your face look like you wanna complain? Nonomiya?"

Mirai-san drew closer with glaring eyes.

"Mirai-san, let it be. If Nonomiya-kun refuses so adamantly, there is nothing that can be done about it. I will try my best to get home alone...," Tsukimori sighed and plodded towards the entrance.

The very moment before she closed the door—

"..................haah..."

—She let out a deep sigh that resounded through the whole staffroom.

All gazes focused on me at once, each of which was reproachful. A close friend can become a close enemy, indeed.

"See her off, Nonomiya-kun," said the manager at last, siding with Tsukimori like the others.

Powered by this, the whole staff started criticizing me. I was attacked from all sides. Outnumbered. I was completely made out to be the bad guy.

"Fine, fine, I've got it already! I'll go see her home, okay?" I groaned and jumped out of the uncomfortable staffroom to run after Tsukimori.

To my surprise, I caught up with her immediately after leaving the café.

Tsukimori was leaning against a telephone pole in front of the shop, waiting below a street light like the queen of the night.

"I knew you would come."

She spotted me and smiled like a blooming flower—revealing to me that my action wasn't unexpected at all.

I looked up at the night sky in order to suppress my boiling emotions. A crescent moon grinned at me tonight.

"You're not fair."

"What do you mean?"

"What are you scheming?"

"That's not nice, you know? As a girl I am very frightened to walk alone at night, you know?"

"Then why didn't you have your mother pick you up, or ask someone else among the staff see you off, or contact the police?"

"As always, you seem to have no idea of how a girl's heart works. I wanted ''you'' to see me home."

She laughed as though she was humming and linked her arm in mine. ''"Shampoo?"'' I wondered silently as I could perceive a sweet fragrance of flowers from her.

"Let's go."

From my experiences so far I had learned that one couldn't get free so easily once Tsukimori had taken the lead, but it was also fact that I, only ''unwillingly'' accepting her lead, certainly had no submissive nature.

Therefore, the few meters during which my arm was pressed against her full bosom were the purest humiliation to me.

I was beyond hope, though, because for just a second I had thought that, while Youko Tsukimori herself may have been the most ill-natured woman on earth, her soft bosom was blameless.

"I won't run away, so please stop this," I begged her with a sigh mixed in, and finally shook her off.

"Too bad. And we had finally created such a nice mood."

Tsukimori was sullen, but her steps remained light.

While watching her black hair dance behind her, I let out a loud sigh.

It may go without saying, but ''my'' steps were heavy.

We got on a train heading out of the city and passed through four stations while getting a good shake. When we alighted at our destination, we were in a residential zone in the outskirts.

"I live over there. A few minutes' walk from here."

Tsukimori pointed at a hill. I saw immediately that we would have a hard time climbing, looking at all the slopes and stairs that could be seen there. The sight alone had me dispirited.

"Don't frown like that. Going out with me means coming up this way all the time, you know?"

"My sympathies to your boyfriend."

"Don't worry. You'll get used to it in no time."

Tsukimori walked off without caring about my sagging spirits. "Look, the stars are beautiful tonight," she said, sounding easy-going.

Since I didn't want to turn around after coming so far, I followed her reluctantly.

It was a tranquil residential area and rather "classy".

The streets were lit with comparatively short gaps, but it was still eerily dark around us. I had to admit that the shivering she had shown earlier might have been more than mere acting.

As expected, I was completely drained by the time we came to a stop. Tsukimori, accustomed as she was, showed no indication of strain, making her appear more irritating than ever to me.

"Here we are," proclaimed Tsukimori and stood before the entrance.

It was a large white building. The term "mansion" might be appropriate.

Since her father had been the head of a construction design company, it was a rather fancy design, constructed with tetrahedrons systematically put together, giving it an overall geometric feel. I would have nodded in comprehension if someone had told me it was the house of a physicist.

There was no light inside, so her mother was apparently absent.

While I was curiously looking up at the house, Tsukimori tugged at my sleeve.

"Now that you're here, why don't you come in?"

Her proposal was most suspicious and virtually crying out to be doubted.

I knew it would be a pain if anyone got wind of that visit. If, on top of that, the guys at school learned that no one else had been in the house at the time, the rumors that might emerge from it exceeded my imagination. Especially in Kamogawa's case... I didn't even want to think about it.

By now I was sure everything had been an act of hers to make me enter her house. It would certainly rub me the wrong way if her plan succeeded.

"Good idea. I'm pretty thirsty; can I come in for a drink?"

Nonetheless, I accepted her offer because it was a very rare opportunity.

Though I had, as a matter of fact, ''suspended'' doubting her due to a lack of progress, I had by no means ''stopped''. The suspicion due to the murder recipe was still smoldering in my mind.

Originally I had expected that new progress would come from associating with her and learning more about her, but all my attempts had remained fruitless. The more I was in touch with her, the less I understood her true nature. I had no clue how to distinguish between her jokes and her serious statements. In other words, she was as slippery as an eel.

Hence, I had come to the conclusion that it might be better to approach her mother. From what I had seen of her at the funeral, she was not as complicated a person as Tsukimori. It shouldn't be necessary to probe Tsukimori herself to find out about her relationship to her father.

I followed Tsukimori into the house. Not a sound was to be heard inside.

While taking off my shoes at the entrance, I asked: "What time is your mother coming back?"

"Do you have a soft spot for older women?" teased Tsukimori with a laugh.

"At least more than for you," I answered—with an earnest face as a test.

"Now that's a shock, even if it is meant as a joke."

Tsukimori shook her head while taking out some slippers for us.

It seemed that I had taken the lead.

"My mother has gone out and will be back late. Today is your chance!"

"...just what sort of chance would that be, I wonder?"

I pushed her head away, since she had come closer to peek at my face.

And the lead went back to Tsukimori.

"I only wanted to introduce myself to her since I'm here."

"Oh, that pleases me to hear. Did you finally warm up to me?"

"I don't know how you took my words, but let me assure you that you're wrong."

I followed her into the living room.

"I'll bring something to drink. Make yourself comfortable on the sofa."

Tsukimori disappeared into the neighboring room, turning on the light there. Half of a well-equipped system kitchen entered my view.

I let my gaze sweep through the living room.

Like the outside, the residence of the Tsukimoris looked quite respectable from the inside: there was a leather sofa with an amber luster and a queerly shaped glass table which even an amateur could identify as a designer table. Furthermore, I found a terrifyingly large LCD TV and luxurious hi-fi equipment. The rumors were true: they were quite a wealthy family.

To my disappointment however, there was nothing special apart from that, like an object that would have served me as a clue for Tsukimori's relationship with her father.

Well, it was only natural that nothing too peculiar was placed in the living room where a lot of people went in and out. Unfortunately, though, I didn't have any pretext that would have allowed me to look through the other rooms, either. I couldn't help feeling that I had forfeited the rare chance of getting into her house.

I was still reeling in disappointment when Tsukimori came back with a tray of drinks.

"I hope you are fine with black tea?"

"Perfectly."

I intended to leave after emptying my cup. There was no use in staying for too long. However, Tsukimori had apparently read my intentions: "Make yourself at home! It's only Saturday tomorrow, so there's no need to hurry, right?"

"Are you out of your mind? I'm a man, you know?"

As if to make her the outlet of my letdown, my wording became a little harsh. I realized that I was acting pretty selfishly, since she wasn't to blame that I had set my own expectations too high.

"That only supports my argument! A boy should never leave an anxious girl behind alone."

"But this is your own home."

"Do you believe stalkers care about such obstacles?"

"How should I know how a stalker thinks? In the first place, that story sounds quite fishy to me anyway."

"Too bad," Tsukimori sighed slightly. "You sure don't let me have my way, Nonomiya-kun."

"That's my line. You lead me by the nose all the time!" I objected promptly. I was naturally unable to just accept it that my opponent forestalled me in saying what had constantly been on my mind.

A moment later, she whispered in a voice that was too loud to be a monologue: "...I wonder if I should consult Mirai-san about Nonomiya-kun..."

I almost spit out my black tea.

"...is that a threat?"

I stared with hostile eyes at Tsukimori.

"It's unavoidable. I simply wish to receive a piece of good advice from an older woman like Mirai-san. There's nothing strange about it, is there?"

Tsukimori covered half of her face under a cushion as if to block my gaze.

"Consulting Mirai-san about love problems is like asking the devil the way to heaven."

"That was a good one."

Tsukimori buried her nose in the cushion and giggled.

"It's no laughing matter. It's a most serious matter of life and death!"

I almost got a headache just by imagining a merry Mirai-san teasing me. I would surely have to say farewell to my busy yet peaceful work life, because she would be asking me about Tsukimori non-stop.

"I would not mind the colleagues at the café knowing about us. I don't like having secrets."

"''You'' don't mind."

Tsukimori may have been used to being the center of attention, but I was not. Just the thought of capturing everyone's attention gave me the shivers.

A comfortable role as a spectator suited me best. Everyone has his own qualities.

"To be frank, I would love to openly attempt winning you over."

"After all, you seem to be good at getting all the others on your side, right?" I said with a full load of sarcasm.

"An inborn virtue of mine?" countered Tsukimori without trouble.

"You don't say. You are a schemer, an actor and, if we get to the heart of it, just plain wicked. It's just that everyone is being deceived by your beautiful looks and doesn't notice your deadly thorns."

"You think I am beautiful? I am on cloud nine!"

"Where have the 'deadly thorns' gone?"

"Paying regard to things that aren't true goes against my principles."

Judging from her serious mien, she did not in the least mean to be joking. Most likely she was even scandalized, in fact.

But strangely enough, I also realized that a girl as "eye-catching" as her might actually need such nerves of steel.

"Would you like another cup?" smiled Tsukimori, ladylike and slightly inclining her head, with a porcelain tea pot in her hand.

"Please."

I held out my tea cup to her, waving the white flag in my mind.

I had chosen to watch her devilish scheme for a little longer.

Thirty minutes later.

"Your mother is pretty late," I addressed Tsukimori, who was sitting opposite of me.

"Yes, she said she would be."

"When is she going to be back then?"

"Hm... sometime around ten, I suppose?"

"That makes thirty minutes from now, huh."

I was starting to feel uncomfortable sharing the same time and room, just the two of us, but I was willing to bear up another half an hour and lay back in the sofa.

Tsukimori murmured, "Well, twenty-four hours from now, to be exact."

I bolted upright on the sofa and stared at her. She was leisurely browsing through a fashion magazine.

"What does that mean?"

"She has gone on a company outing and will be back tomorrow."

"—You deceived me?"

I was surprised myself by how deep my tone was.

"I honestly told you she would be late."

"How's that honest!? I'm leaving," I declared , stood up and headed towards the entrance. Most of the irritation was at myself for readily taking her bait.

Suddenly, something soft enveloped my arm. Tsukimori had clasped it.

"...please, don't leave me alone. I'm frightened!"

Her begging attitude and the soft touch against my arm made me falter.

The unusual fragility she was showing me was more than enough to activate my protective instinct—even if it was a deliberate action of hers to seduce me.

But my rationality cooled down the overwhelming reality and kept me from making a wrong decision.

"Your charm doesn't work on me! Besides, that's not fair. I never have accepted going out with you."

Two teenagers alone under one roof — an alluring setting. Being a boy in his teens myself, I was naturally interested in what would happen in such a situation, all the more if the girl in question was Youko Tsukimori.

"I don't mind if it's you."

As expected, she tried to capture me with inviting eyes and sweet words.

Had I met Youko Tsukimori under any other circumstances, I would have stood no chance against her seduction.

"I feel honored, but I have no such intentions!"

However, unlike the Nonomiya in that hypothetical world, the real one bore up against her. Because, much more than I was hoping for an alluring development, I was scared.

It was wariness that sustained my rationality.

What was Youko Tsukimori scheming?

It was then that I felt that I had caught a glimpse of the true intention behind her request to date her.

Perhaps, Tsukimori didn't have in mind to get rid of me, but to get me under her control?

She was well aware of her own attractiveness and knew how to use it effectively. I had been able to observe that fact more than enough lately. So, perhaps she was trying to make me her faithful puppet of sorts? She could be sure that I would not leak her secret in that case, couldn't she?

Of course, provided that she really had noticed that I knew of and had the murder recipe.

Either way, I had to get out of there as fast as possible. Even if my assumptions were true and confirmed by Tsukimori at that, it was only a matter of time until I would give in to her.

Because her words may have been lies, ''but her attractiveness was a fact''.

As things stood, I was going to fall victim to her venom. I knew for sure that as soon as that happened, the poison would spread slowly but surely and paralyze my will to resist.

I shook her off and hurried towards the entrance, but Tsukimori rushed after me in the same breath. This time she clung to me from behind, restraining me.

Her warmth, her softness, her entrancing fragrance blended into a charm deluding the senses and attacked me from behind.

"...It does not matter what you feel for me..."

Her soft breath touched the nape of my neck. I knew that I had to escape, but I couldn't move a muscle.

"...touch me... do whatever you want with me..."

Her delightful words entered my head through my eardrums and turned into paralyzing electrical signals flashing through my entire body. My poisoned legs had already lost the strength to resist a single high school girl.

[[Image:Gekkou-122.jpg|thumb]]

She gently pushed me into the sofa, leaning against me. The lamp behind Tsukimori created a mystic contrast on her face. She placed her head on my shoulder and put her hands lightly on my chest—as if to feel my heartbeat. Her white, slender neck was exposed to me right by my chin.

While I was still bereft of speech, she whispered into my ear, "Please. I want you to."

It sounded to me like a saint's enigmatic absolution.

A moment later, she nibbled the defenseless nape of my neck.

The soft sensation of her tender red lips caused my shoulders to jump. I had never experienced such an impulse before, it was similar to tickling but still different.

My body was about to run out of control. In an attempt to push her away, I slid my hands between us and thrust towards the ceiling. Unwilling to be separated, she resisted and twisted her body. My resisting hands merely brushed against her soft breasts, stroked her smooth sides and lost themselves in blank space.

At that moment, Tsukimori uttered a suppressed moan and writhed, still straddling me.

It was smashing. My rationality was entirely blown away by her unexpected sensitive reaction.

Letting my instincts take over, I swapped places and sat astride her. I laid one hand on the white nape of her neck and traced her lush red lips with my fingers. I inhaled her intensive flowery scent, kissed her collarbone and put my knee between her thighs.

She reacted exquisitely to each of my actions. I was aware that the blood circulating in my veins was enraptured by pleasure.

Right now———Youko Tsukimori was under my control.

That feeling of elation was far beyond normal. Even I, the cool thinker by principle, would have loved screaming as my feelings told me.

While frantically suppressing the urge to rush, I kept on caressing Tsukimori. I wanted the pleasure to hold on for as long as possible.

However, I was suddenly stricken by a shock that made my heart skip a beat. I had noticed her unusual reaction.

"—You're trembling."

Tsukimori blinked a few times with her eyes that in passion had lost focus.

"...I am?" she asked with gentle lip-movements, her voice full of heat.

She was unaware of it herself, but she was trembling all over.

Feelings of guilt that I had pushed aside as my rationality had gone out of the window suddenly sprung up in me like water.

"...we really shouldn't be doing this. Let's stop," I stated while raising my body.

Tsukimori's "tremor" appeared to me like "rejection".

I certainly didn't stop because I was a good person but, on the other hand, neither did I enjoy subjugating girls against their will for my own satisfaction.

I was frightened, plain and simple. Frightened of shouldering a sin against ''her'' that could not be amended.

She was still lying on the sofa, looking up at me with wondering eyes. Behind her rumpled uniform, I could see her bulging snow-white skin. I averted my gaze automatically.

"Why? Didn't I say it's fine?"

"But you are trembling."

"That's because of excitement!"

"I don't think so."

"It is!"

The next moment, Tsukimori said something I couldn't believe.

"It's my first time after all!"

"So I can't help it," she added.

No words.

I cast her off and stood up as if to retreat.

"Why?!" I shouted, channeling all my bewilderment into one word. That was the only thing I could do.

"Everyone has a first time," replied Tsukimori with girlishly pure eyes.

"But that's not how you go about it!"

"That's different for everyone."

"...do as you please as long as it's your own problem. But this time it's me that would have been your partner, you get that?"

"Yes, you are right, I don't know if I am able to satisfy you because it's my first time...," she worried.

She had to be joking.

"Ah, but I'm positive that I will develop excellent skills the more we do it. You know that I'm a fast learner, right? Be it at school or at work."

However, Tsukimori looked dead serious.

"That's not the problem!!"

When was the last time I had become that agitated? I couldn't remember. Thank you very much for this valuable experience, Tsukimori.

"Why are you always so... so reckless!"

"I am surprised myself."

"Don't act so unconcerned!"

"Someone once said that girls in love are invincible; there might be more truth to it than I thought. After all I do feel capable of anything right now," she nodded approvingly.

"Please, don't only think about yourself..." I let out a grand sigh. "In the first place, what happened to the rumors about you? Haven't you gone out with numerous boys so far?"

It's not like I believed her offhandedly.

A girl like Tsukimori should have had countless opportunities to lose "it" in her life. Wasn't she just playing with me?

"...I don't want to tell you," she averted her gaze to the side.

"You can't say that after dragging me in like that, can you? I have the right to know."

"I don't care."

"Don't be such a child."

"I bet you see me as some kind of slut!"

Tsukimori pursed her lips.

She was now sounding queerly like a precocious little girl. Where did the bewitching girl go that seduced me?

"Fine! I won't ask anymore if you don't want to tell me."

I thought there was no use questioning her in that thickheaded state.

"...Do you really want me to tell you?"

"...Which is it now!"

Good heavens. As always she was hard to read.

Tsukimori took a deep breath and made up her mind.

"I'll be honest. I have gone out with several boys until now."

"As I thought."

"Hey, that's not nice, you know. Let me assure you: I may have gone out with various boys, but not once have I given myself to anyone. I didn't even let them touch me like you have. Honestly."

"You want me to buy that?"

"They were all good and kind people and really loved me."

"...Good for you..."

"But every time something felt off. In some way I knew that none of them was my destined partner," she told me with slightly downcast eyes, wallowing in reminiscences.

"Then why me?"

"Because you seemed different from the others! In the beginning it was just a baseless intuition, of course. At first I wanted to go out with you without thinking too deeply, as I used to do with the other boys. Because getting someone to date me is simple."

"That sure doesn't sound like something someone my age would say. Come on, how old are you really?"

Tsukimori found my apathetic attitude funny, it seemed. She giggled with great amusement.

"But I had not dreamed that you would reject me."

"So sorry for not living up to your expectations."

"No, by no means! Thanks to that, I gained a sudden burst of enthusiasm. So the result is absolutely fine!"

"...That's how life goes, I guess. Never the way you want it to."

Tsukimori's triumphant joy had the opposite effect on my mood. She made me remember that whatever I did to her always ended up backfiring on me.

"Indeed... I wonder why things never work out the way you want them in life."

This time it was me who couldn't help laughing, seeing her say that with a solemn mien.

"If ''you'' of all people don't get your way, us commoners are stumped."

The worries of someone who had everything seemed incredibly ridiculous to me.

"You are all just overestimating me, really."

"But you deserve to be overestimated, from a neutral point of view."

"Why is it that I cannot make you mine, then?"

She squinted at my eyes as if to peek into my heart.

"...Who knows? It's a riddle even to me," I answered vaguely, looking away. For obvious reasons I could have never told her that it's because the murder recipe was on my mind.

"Meany."

"Call me whatever you like."

"But I like you anyway, Nonomiya-kun, even if you are cruel and mean to me," laughed Tsukimori while brushing her hair. It was a gorgeous demeanor. "How can I explain it...? It is just so enjoyable to talk with you."

She carefully chose her words, which made me realize that she was trying her utmost to convey her feelings precisely.

"You could say that we are... trying to outdo each other? Our conversation feel so exciting and enjoyable to me because they're unpredictable. I just can't talk enough with you."

Her words silenced me, and caused me to stare at her. I was struck by surprise that she was of the same mind as me.

Strong sympathy can change ridiculously easily into a sense of closeness.

Indeed, at that very instant, Youko Tsukimori became a special girl to me.

"When I imagined how stimulating every day would become if I went out with you, I realized that you had to be my destined partner. So I did not really need to hesitate. You are the one I deemed destined for me; I wanted you to have my first time."

To make matters worse, she looked even more attractive now that I had become conscious of her. I've heard subjectivity incorporates a function that applies a filter to the brain that makes you interpret things in your favor.

"I didn't know I was so bold."

"And I wish I didn't know that you were so sharp tongued."

I shrugged extensively for show. Of course, I was not at all composed. It was quite the contrary: I was disturbed. You could say that I had a hard time dealing with the radical change of my feelings.

I had previously regarded any situation objectively with the utmost effort in order to bear up against Tsukimori and her staggering presence. Otherwise I would have fallen victim to her charm like everyone else.

However, now that subjectivity had mixed into my view, I couldn't remain calm anymore. My awakened instincts told me to savor the defenseless fruit before my eyes.

"I'm leaving."

This time I seriously had to leave or I would end up loathing myself.

"Don't you want to check?"

I heard Tsukimori's voice behind me when I was walking towards the living room door.

"Check what?"

"—Whether it really would have been my first time or not."

I felt the urge to turn around, but I chose to remain on course.

She would have surely shown me a devilish smile that very much met my preference and ruined my newly gained determination.

"Please forget what happened today. I wasn't myself."

"I don't want to," she declared.

"It's in both our interests."

"It's a valuable memory of the 'destined partner' I finally found."

"I'm stunned that you can use that phrase so carelessly. Say that again in ten years."

"I am not using the word carelessly. Didn't you know that every girl is searching for her 'destined partner' from the moment she is born?"

"Well, my sympathies for all the trouble."

With that parting shot I opened the door. In that instant, I heard footsteps rushing towards me resounding on the flooring.

"Are you really leaving me?"

...No use using such lonely words.

"Of course."

"Even though I want you to stay so much?"

...No use using such pleading words.

"Well, ''I'' want to go home as fast as possible."

"You really are hard to deal with, Nonomiya-kun," she said, sighing.

I spontaneously turned around and glared at her. "You're the last person I want to hear that from!"

Tsukimori laughed heartily at seeing my unwilling attitude.

...Please, let me go already.

"Goodbye."

"Be seeing you."

Even though I intentionally stomped on the floor to express my bad temper, I happened to see her sad and weak wave goodbye. It would be a lie to say that I didn't feel anything while closing the front door.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Bitter Chocolate|Bitter Chocolate]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine|Orange & Wine]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare

2011-10-26T22:27:23Z

Andrewgr: "world of assumptions" doesn't really make sense

==[Sweet Nightmare]==

At the staff room after closing time.

"I would like you to see me home," requested Tsukimori after changing into her school uniform.

"See you home...?" I repeated warily like a parrot.

"You see, I always feel someone's gaze on me on the way from the café to the train station..."

She gave a shiver.

"Aren't you just being paranoid?" I wanted to say at first, but I reconsidered because it was quite possible in her case. After all, she was no doubt eye-catching. Instead, I suggested, "Then you should consult the police rather than me."

"Weak, Nonomiya! That's weak! Come on, be a man and protect her!"

Mirai-san, who had apparently followed our exchange, thumped a table close to her. The staff nearby turned around, surprised, to see what was going on.

"I don't mean to brag, but I don't have confidence in my strength. Even if she gets attacked by a stalker, the best I can do is get beaten up myself."

"You aren't bragging at all! And if you're a man, you ought to bravely fight all the same, even if you have to put your neck on the line!"

"I'm under the impression that you would make a better bodyguard than me, Mirai-san."

"Moron! I'm a delicate young lady, you know? I also need to be protected."

I shrugged exaggeratedly and took a look at the faces of the rest of the staff. They could only answer my gaze with lopsided smiles because they feared her, but their real thoughts were bound to be the same as mine.

"Very funny, indeed."

"Heh, does your face look like you wanna complain? Nonomiya?"

Mirai-san drew closer with glaring eyes.

"Mirai-san, let it be. If Nonomiya-kun refuses so adamantly, there is nothing that can be done about it. I will try my best to get home alone...," Tsukimori sighed and plodded towards the entrance.

The very moment before she closed the door—

"..................haah..."

—She let out a deep sigh that resounded through the whole staffroom.

All gazes focused on me at once, each of which was reproachful. A close friend can become a close enemy, indeed.

"See her off, Nonomiya-kun," said the manager at last, siding with Tsukimori like the others.

Powered by this, the whole staff started criticizing me. I was attacked from all sides. Outnumbered. I was completely made out to be the bad guy.

"Fine, fine, I've got it already! I'll go see her home, okay?" I groaned and jumped out of the uncomfortable staffroom to run after Tsukimori.

To my surprise, I caught up with her immediately after leaving the café.

Tsukimori was leaning against a telephone pole in front of the shop, waiting below a street light like the queen of the night.

"I knew you would come."

She spotted me and smiled like a blooming flower—revealing to me that my action wasn't unexpected at all.

I looked up at the night sky in order to suppress my boiling emotions. A crescent moon grinned at me tonight.

"You're not fair."

"What do you mean?"

"What are you scheming?"

"That's not nice, you know? As a girl I am very frightened to walk alone at night, you know?"

"Then why didn't you have your mother pick you up, or ask someone else among the staff see you off, or contact the police?"

"As always, you seem to have no idea of how a girl's heart works. I wanted ''you'' to see me home."

She laughed as though she was humming and linked her arm in mine. ''"Shampoo?"'' I wondered silently as I could perceive a sweet fragrance of flowers from her.

"Let's go."

From my experiences so far I had learned that one couldn't get free so easily once Tsukimori had taken the lead, but it was also fact that I, only ''unwillingly'' accepting her lead, certainly had no submissive nature.

Therefore, the few meters during which my arm was pressed against her full bosom were the purest humiliation to me.

I was beyond hope, though, because for just a second I had thought that, while Youko Tsukimori herself may have been the most ill-natured woman on earth, her soft bosom was blameless.

"I won't run away, so please stop this," I begged her with a sigh mixed in, and finally shook her off.

"Too bad. And we had finally created such a nice mood."

Tsukimori was sullen, but her steps remained light.

While watching her black hair dance behind her, I let out a loud sigh.

It may go without saying, but ''my'' steps were heavy.

We got on a train heading out of the city and passed through four stations while getting a good shake. When we alighted at our destination, we were in a residential zone in the outskirts.

"I live over there. A few minutes' walk from here."

Tsukimori pointed at a hill. I saw immediately that we would have a hard time climbing, looking at all the slopes and stairs that could be seen there. The sight alone had me dispirited.

"Don't frown like that. Going out with me means coming up this way all the time, you know?"

"My sympathies to your boyfriend."

"Don't worry. You'll get used to it in no time."

Tsukimori walked off without caring about my sagging spirits. "Look, the stars are beautiful tonight," she said, sounding easy-going.

Since I didn't want to turn around after coming so far, I followed her reluctantly.

It was a tranquil residential area and rather "classy".

The streets were lit with comparatively short gaps, but it was still eerily dark around us. I had to admit that the shivering she had shown earlier might have been more than mere acting.

As expected, I was completely drained by the time we came to a stop. Tsukimori, accustomed as she was, showed no indication of strain, making her appear more irritating than ever to me.

"Here we are," proclaimed Tsukimori and stood before the entrance.

It was a large white building. The term "mansion" might be appropriate.

Since her father had been the head of a construction design company, it was a rather fancy design, constructed with tetrahedrons systematically put together, giving it an overall geometric feel. I would have nodded in comprehension if someone had told me it was the house of a physicist.

There was no light inside, so her mother was apparently absent.

While I was curiously looking up at the house, Tsukimori tugged at my sleeve.

"Now that you're here, why don't you come in?"

Her proposal was most suspicious and virtually crying out to be doubted.

I knew it would be a pain if anyone got wind of that visit. If, on top of that, the guys at school learned that no one else had been in the house at the time, the rumors that might emerge from it exceeded my imagination. Especially in Kamogawa's case... I didn't even want to think about it.

By now I was sure everything had been an act of hers to make me enter her house. It would certainly rub me the wrong way if her plan succeeded.

"Good idea. I'm pretty thirsty; can I come in for a drink?"

Nonetheless, I accepted her offer because it was a very rare opportunity.

Though I had, as a matter of fact, ''suspended'' doubting her due to a lack of progress, I had by no means ''stopped''. The suspicion due to the murder recipe was still smoldering in my mind.

Originally I had expected that new progress would come from associating with her and learning more about her, but all my attempts had remained fruitless. The more I was in touch with her, the less I understood her true nature. I had no clue how to distinguish between her jokes and her serious statements. In other words, she was as slippery as an eel.

Hence, I had come to the conclusion that it might be better to approach her mother. From what I had seen of her at the funeral, she was not as complicated a person as Tsukimori. It shouldn't be necessary to probe Tsukimori herself to find out about her relationship to her father.

I followed Tsukimori into the house. Not a sound was to be heard inside.

While taking off my shoes at the entrance, I asked: "What time is your mother coming back?"

"Do you have a soft spot for older women?" teased Tsukimori with a laugh.

"At least more than for you," I answered—with an earnest face as a test.

"Now that's a shock, even if it is meant as a joke."

Tsukimori shook her head while taking out some slippers for us.

It seemed that I had taken the lead.

"My mother has gone out and will be back late. Today is your chance!"

"...just what sort of chance would that be, I wonder?"

I pushed her head away, since she had come closer to peek at my face.

And the lead went back to Tsukimori.

"I only wanted to introduce myself to her since I'm here."

"Oh, that pleases me to hear. Did you finally warm up to me?"

"I don't know how you took my words, but let me assure you that you're wrong."

I followed her into the living room.

"I'll bring something to drink. Make yourself comfortable on the sofa."

Tsukimori disappeared into the neighboring room, turning on the light there. Half of a well-equipped system kitchen entered my view.

I let my gaze sweep through the living room.

Like the outside, the residence of the Tsukimoris looked quite respectable from the inside: there was a leather sofa with an amber luster and a queerly shaped glass table which even an amateur could identify as a designer table. Furthermore, I found a terrifyingly large LCD TV and luxurious hi-fi equipment. The rumors were true: they were quite a wealthy family.

To my disappointment however, there was nothing special apart from that, like an object that would have served me as a clue for Tsukimori's relationship with her father.

Well, it was only natural that nothing too peculiar was placed in the living room where a lot of people went in and out. Unfortunately, though, I didn't have any pretext that would have allowed me to look through the other rooms, either. I couldn't help feeling that I had forfeited the rare chance of getting into her house.

I was still reeling in disappointment when Tsukimori came back with a tray of drinks.

"I hope you are fine with black tea?"

"Perfectly."

I intended to leave after emptying my cup. There was no use in staying for too long. However, Tsukimori had apparently read my intentions: "Make yourself at home! It's only Saturday tomorrow, so there's no need to hurry, right?"

"Are you out of your mind? I'm a man, you know?"

As if to make her the outlet of my letdown, my wording became a little harsh. I realized that I was acting pretty selfishly, since she wasn't to blame that I had set my own expectations too high.

"That only supports my argument! A boy should never leave an anxious girl behind alone."

"But this is your own home."

"Do you believe stalkers care about such obstacles?"

"How should I know how a stalker thinks? In the first place, that story sounds quite fishy to me anyway."

"Too bad," Tsukimori sighed slightly. "You sure don't let me have my way, Nonomiya-kun."

"That's my line. You lead me by the nose all the time!" I objected promptly. I was naturally unable to just accept it that my opponent forestalled me in saying what had constantly been on my mind.

A moment later, she whispered in a voice that was too loud to be a monologue: "...I wonder if I should consult Mirai-san about Nonomiya-kun..."

I almost spit out my black tea.

"...is that a threat?"

I stared with hostile eyes at Tsukimori.

"It's unavoidable. I simply wish to receive a piece of good advice from an older woman like Mirai-san. There's nothing strange about it, is there?"

Tsukimori covered half of her face under a cushion as if to block my gaze.

"Consulting Mirai-san about love problems is like asking the devil the way to heaven."

"That was a good one."

Tsukimori buried her nose in the cushion and giggled.

"It's no laughing matter. It's a most serious matter of life and death!"

I almost got a headache just by imagining a merry Mirai-san teasing me. I would surely have to say farewell to my busy yet peaceful work life, because she would be asking me about Tsukimori non-stop.

"I would not mind the colleagues at the café knowing about us. I don't like having secrets."

"''You'' don't mind."

Tsukimori may have been used to being the center of attention, but I was not. Just the thought of capturing everyone's attention gave me the shivers.

A comfortable role as a spectator suited me best. Everyone has his own qualities.

"To be frank, I would love to openly attempt winning you over."

"After all, you seem to be good at getting all the others on your side, right?" I said with a full load of sarcasm.

"An inborn virtue of mine?" countered Tsukimori without trouble.

"You don't say. You are a schemer, an actor and, if we get to the heart of it, just plain wicked. It's just that everyone is being deceived by your beautiful looks and doesn't notice your deadly thorns."

"You think I am beautiful? I am on cloud nine!"

"Where have the 'deadly thorns' gone?"

"Paying regard to things that aren't true goes against my principles."

Judging from her serious mien, she did not in the least mean to be joking. Most likely she was even scandalized, in fact.

But strangely enough, I also realized that a girl as "eye-catching" as her might actually need such nerves of steel.

"Would you like another cup?" smiled Tsukimori, ladylike and slightly inclining her head, with a porcelain tea pot in her hand.

"Please."

I held out my tea cup to her, waving the white flag in my mind.

I had chosen to watch her devilish scheme for a little longer.

Thirty minutes later.

"Your mother is pretty late," I addressed Tsukimori, who was sitting opposite of me.

"Yes, she said she would be."

"When is she going to be back then?"

"Hm... sometime around ten, I suppose?"

"That makes thirty minutes from now, huh."

I was starting to feel uncomfortable sharing the same time and room, just the two of us, but I was willing to bear up another half an hour and lay back in the sofa.

Tsukimori murmured, "Well, twenty-four hours from now, to be exact."

I bolted upright on the sofa and stared at her. She was leisurely browsing through a fashion magazine.

"What does that mean?"

"She has gone on a company outing and will be back tomorrow."

"—You deceived me?"

I was surprised myself by how deep my tone was.

"I honestly told you she would be late."

"How's that honest!? I'm leaving," I declared , stood up and headed towards the entrance. Most of the irritation was at myself for readily taking her bait.

Suddenly, something soft enveloped my arm. Tsukimori had clasped it.

"...please, don't leave me alone. I'm frightened!"

Her begging attitude and the soft touch against my arm made me falter.

The unusual fragility she was showing me was more than enough to activate my protective instinct—even if it was a deliberate action of hers to seduce me.

But my rationality cooled down the overwhelming reality and kept me from making a wrong decision.

"Your charm doesn't work on me! Besides, that's not fair. I never have accepted going out with you."

Two teenagers alone under one roof — an alluring setting. Being a boy in his teens myself, I was naturally interested in what would happen in such a situation, all the more if the girl in question was Youko Tsukimori.

"I don't mind if it's you."

As expected, she tried to capture me with inviting eyes and sweet words.

Had I met Youko Tsukimori under any other circumstances, I would have stood no chance against her seduction.

"I feel honored, but I have no such intentions!"

However, unlike that Nonomiya in that hypothetical world, the real one bore up against her. Because, much more than I was hoping for an alluring development, I was scared.

It was wariness that sustained my rationality.

What was Youko Tsukimori scheming?

It was then that I felt that I had caught a glimpse of the true intention behind her request to date her.

Perhaps, Tsukimori didn't have in mind to get rid of me, but to get me under her control?

She was well aware of her own attractiveness and knew how to use it effectively. I had been able to observe that fact more than enough lately. So, perhaps she was trying to make me her faithful puppet of sorts? She could be sure that I would not leak her secret in that case, couldn't she?

Of course, provided that she really had noticed that I knew of and had the murder recipe.

Either way, I had to get out of there as fast as possible. Even if my assumptions were true and confirmed by Tsukimori at that, it was only a matter of time until I would give in to her.

Because her words may have been lies, ''but her attractiveness was a fact''.

As things stood, I was going to fall victim to her venom. I knew for sure that as soon as that happened, the poison would spread slowly but surely and paralyze my will to resist.

I shook her off and hurried towards the entrance, but Tsukimori rushed after me in the same breath. This time she clung to me from behind, restraining me.

Her warmth, her softness, her entrancing fragrance blended into a charm deluding the senses and attacked me from behind.

"...It does not matter what you feel for me..."

Her soft breath touched the nape of my neck. I knew that I had to escape, but I couldn't move a muscle.

"...touch me... do whatever you want with me..."

Her delightful words entered my head through my eardrums and turned into paralyzing electrical signals flashing through my entire body. My poisoned legs had already lost the strength to resist a single high school girl.

[[Image:Gekkou-122.jpg|thumb]]

She gently pushed me into the sofa, leaning against me. The lamp behind Tsukimori created a mystic contrast on her face. She placed her head on my shoulder and put her hands lightly on my chest—as if to feel my heartbeat. Her white, slender neck was exposed to me right by my chin.

While I was still bereft of speech, she whispered into my ear, "Please. I want you to."

It sounded to me like a saint's enigmatic absolution.

A moment later, she nibbled the defenseless nape of my neck.

The soft sensation of her tender red lips caused my shoulders to jump. I had never experienced such an impulse before, it was similar to tickling but still different.

My body was about to run out of control. In an attempt to push her away, I slid my hands between us and thrust towards the ceiling. Unwilling to be separated, she resisted and twisted her body. My resisting hands merely brushed against her soft breasts, stroked her smooth sides and lost themselves in blank space.

At that moment, Tsukimori uttered a suppressed moan and writhed, still straddling me.

It was smashing. My rationality was entirely blown away by her unexpected sensitive reaction.

Letting my instincts take over, I swapped places and sat astride her. I laid one hand on the white nape of her neck and traced her lush red lips with my fingers. I inhaled her intensive flowery scent, kissed her collarbone and put my knee between her thighs.

She reacted exquisitely to each of my actions. I was aware that the blood circulating in my veins was enraptured by pleasure.

Right now———Youko Tsukimori was under my control.

That feeling of elation was far beyond normal. Even I, the cool thinker by principle, would have loved screaming as my feelings told me.

While frantically suppressing the urge to rush, I kept on caressing Tsukimori. I wanted the pleasure to hold on for as long as possible.

However, I was suddenly stricken by a shock that made my heart skip a beat. I had noticed her unusual reaction.

"—You're trembling."

Tsukimori blinked a few times with her eyes that in passion had lost focus.

"...I am?" she asked with gentle lip-movements, her voice full of heat.

She was unaware of it herself, but she was trembling all over.

Feelings of guilt that I had pushed aside as my rationality had gone out of the window suddenly sprung up in me like water.

"...we really shouldn't be doing this. Let's stop," I stated while raising my body.

Tsukimori's "tremor" appeared to me like "rejection".

I certainly didn't stop because I was a good person but, on the other hand, neither did I enjoy subjugating girls against their will for my own satisfaction.

I was frightened, plain and simple. Frightened of shouldering a sin against ''her'' that could not be amended.

She was still lying on the sofa, looking up at me with wondering eyes. Behind her rumpled uniform, I could see her bulging snow-white skin. I averted my gaze automatically.

"Why? Didn't I say it's fine?"

"But you are trembling."

"That's because of excitement!"

"I don't think so."

"It is!"

The next moment, Tsukimori said something I couldn't believe.

"It's my first time after all!"

"So I can't help it," she added.

No words.

I cast her off and stood up as if to retreat.

"Why?!" I shouted, channeling all my bewilderment into one word. That was the only thing I could do.

"Everyone has a first time," replied Tsukimori with girlishly pure eyes.

"But that's not how you go about it!"

"That's different for everyone."

"...do as you please as long as it's your own problem. But this time it's me that would have been your partner, you get that?"

"Yes, you are right, I don't know if I am able to satisfy you because it's my first time...," she worried.

She had to be joking.

"Ah, but I'm positive that I will develop excellent skills the more we do it. You know that I'm a fast learner, right? Be it at school or at work."

However, Tsukimori looked dead serious.

"That's not the problem!!"

When was the last time I had become that agitated? I couldn't remember. Thank you very much for this valuable experience, Tsukimori.

"Why are you always so... so reckless!"

"I am surprised myself."

"Don't act so unconcerned!"

"Someone once said that girls in love are invincible; there might be more truth to it than I thought. After all I do feel capable of anything right now," she nodded approvingly.

"Please, don't only think about yourself..." I let out a grand sigh. "In the first place, what happened to the rumors about you? Haven't you gone out with numerous boys so far?"

It's not like I believed her offhandedly.

A girl like Tsukimori should have had countless opportunities to lose "it" in her life. Wasn't she just playing with me?

"...I don't want to tell you," she averted her gaze to the side.

"You can't say that after dragging me in like that, can you? I have the right to know."

"I don't care."

"Don't be such a child."

"I bet you see me as some kind of slut!"

Tsukimori pursed her lips.

She was now sounding queerly like a precocious little girl. Where did the bewitching girl go that seduced me?

"Fine! I won't ask anymore if you don't want to tell me."

I thought there was no use questioning her in that thickheaded state.

"...Do you really want me to tell you?"

"...Which is it now!"

Good heavens. As always she was hard to read.

Tsukimori took a deep breath and made up her mind.

"I'll be honest. I have gone out with several boys until now."

"As I thought."

"Hey, that's not nice, you know. Let me assure you: I may have gone out with various boys, but not once have I given myself to anyone. I didn't even let them touch me like you have. Honestly."

"You want me to buy that?"

"They were all good and kind people and really loved me."

"...Good for you..."

"But every time something felt off. In some way I knew that none of them was my destined partner," she told me with slightly downcast eyes, wallowing in reminiscences.

"Then why me?"

"Because you seemed different from the others! In the beginning it was just a baseless intuition, of course. At first I wanted to go out with you without thinking too deeply, as I used to do with the other boys. Because getting someone to date me is simple."

"That sure doesn't sound like something someone my age would say. Come on, how old are you really?"

Tsukimori found my apathetic attitude funny, it seemed. She giggled with great amusement.

"But I had not dreamed that you would reject me."

"So sorry for not living up to your expectations."

"No, by no means! Thanks to that, I gained a sudden burst of enthusiasm. So the result is absolutely fine!"

"...That's how life goes, I guess. Never the way you want it to."

Tsukimori's triumphant joy had the opposite effect on my mood. She made me remember that whatever I did to her always ended up backfiring on me.

"Indeed... I wonder why things never work out the way you want them in life."

This time it was me who couldn't help laughing, seeing her say that with a solemn mien.

"If ''you'' of all people don't get your way, us commoners are stumped."

The worries of someone who had everything seemed incredibly ridiculous to me.

"You are all just overestimating me, really."

"But you deserve to be overestimated, from a neutral point of view."

"Why is it that I cannot make you mine, then?"

She squinted at my eyes as if to peek into my heart.

"...Who knows? It's a riddle even to me," I answered vaguely, looking away. For obvious reasons I could have never told her that it's because the murder recipe was on my mind.

"Meany."

"Call me whatever you like."

"But I like you anyway, Nonomiya-kun, even if you are cruel and mean to me," laughed Tsukimori while brushing her hair. It was a gorgeous demeanor. "How can I explain it...? It is just so enjoyable to talk with you."

She carefully chose her words, which made me realize that she was trying her utmost to convey her feelings precisely.

"You could say that we are... trying to outdo each other? Our conversation feel so exciting and enjoyable to me because they're unpredictable. I just can't talk enough with you."

Her words silenced me, and caused me to stare at her. I was struck by surprise that she was of the same mind as me.

Strong sympathy can change ridiculously easily into a sense of closeness.

Indeed, at that very instant, Youko Tsukimori became a special girl to me.

"When I imagined how stimulating every day would become if I went out with you, I realized that you had to be my destined partner. So I did not really need to hesitate. You are the one I deemed destined for me; I wanted you to have my first time."

To make matters worse, she looked even more attractive now that I had become conscious of her. I've heard subjectivity incorporates a function that applies a filter to the brain that makes you interpret things in your favor.

"I didn't know I was so bold."

"And I wish I didn't know that you were so sharp tongued."

I shrugged extensively for show. Of course, I was not at all composed. It was quite the contrary: I was disturbed. You could say that I had a hard time dealing with the radical change of my feelings.

I had previously regarded any situation objectively with the utmost effort in order to bear up against Tsukimori and her staggering presence. Otherwise I would have fallen victim to her charm like everyone else.

However, now that subjectivity had mixed into my view, I couldn't remain calm anymore. My awakened instincts told me to savor the defenseless fruit before my eyes.

"I'm leaving."

This time I seriously had to leave or I would end up loathing myself.

"Don't you want to check?"

I heard Tsukimori's voice behind me when I was walking towards the living room door.

"Check what?"

"—Whether it really would have been my first time or not."

I felt the urge to turn around, but I chose to remain on course.

She would have surely shown me a devilish smile that very much met my preference and ruined my newly gained determination.

"Please forget what happened today. I wasn't myself."

"I don't want to," she declared.

"It's in both our interests."

"It's a valuable memory of the 'destined partner' I finally found."

"I'm stunned that you can use that phrase so carelessly. Say that again in ten years."

"I am not using the word carelessly. Didn't you know that every girl is searching for her 'destined partner' from the moment she is born?"

"Well, my sympathies for all the trouble."

With that parting shot I opened the door. In that instant, I heard footsteps rushing towards me resounding on the flooring.

"Are you really leaving me?"

...No use using such lonely words.

"Of course."

"Even though I want you to stay so much?"

...No use using such pleading words.

"Well, ''I'' want to go home as fast as possible."

"You really are hard to deal with, Nonomiya-kun," she said, sighing.

I spontaneously turned around and glared at her. "You're the last person I want to hear that from!"

Tsukimori laughed heartily at seeing my unwilling attitude.

...Please, let me go already.

"Goodbye."

"Be seeing you."

Even though I intentionally stomped on the floor to express my bad temper, I happened to see her sad and weak wave goodbye. It would be a lie to say that I didn't feel anything while closing the front door.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Bitter Chocolate|Bitter Chocolate]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine|Orange & Wine]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare

2011-10-26T22:24:47Z

Andrewgr: flows better

==[Sweet Nightmare]==

At the staff room after closing time.

"I would like you to see me home," requested Tsukimori after changing into her school uniform.

"See you home...?" I repeated warily like a parrot.

"You see, I always feel someone's gaze on me on the way from the café to the train station..."

She gave a shiver.

"Aren't you just being paranoid?" I wanted to say at first, but I reconsidered because it was quite possible in her case. After all, she was no doubt eye-catching. Instead, I suggested, "Then you should consult the police rather than me."

"Weak, Nonomiya! That's weak! Come on, be a man and protect her!"

Mirai-san, who had apparently followed our exchange, thumped a table close to her. The staff nearby turned around, surprised, to see what was going on.

"I don't mean to brag, but I don't have confidence in my strength. Even if she gets attacked by a stalker, the best I can do is get beaten up myself."

"You aren't bragging at all! And if you're a man, you ought to bravely fight all the same, even if you have to put your neck on the line!"

"I'm under the impression that you would make a better bodyguard than me, Mirai-san."

"Moron! I'm a delicate young lady, you know? I also need to be protected."

I shrugged exaggeratedly and took a look at the faces of the rest of the staff. They could only answer my gaze with lopsided smiles because they feared her, but their real thoughts were bound to be the same as mine.

"Very funny, indeed."

"Heh, does your face look like you wanna complain? Nonomiya?"

Mirai-san drew closer with glaring eyes.

"Mirai-san, let it be. If Nonomiya-kun refuses so adamantly, there is nothing that can be done about it. I will try my best to get home alone...," Tsukimori sighed and plodded towards the entrance.

The very moment before she closed the door—

"..................haah..."

—She let out a deep sigh that resounded through the whole staffroom.

All gazes focused on me at once, each of which was reproachful. A close friend can become a close enemy, indeed.

"See her off, Nonomiya-kun," said the manager at last, siding with Tsukimori like the others.

Powered by this, the whole staff started criticizing me. I was attacked from all sides. Outnumbered. I was completely made out to be the bad guy.

"Fine, fine, I've got it already! I'll go see her home, okay?" I groaned and jumped out of the uncomfortable staffroom to run after Tsukimori.

To my surprise, I caught up with her immediately after leaving the café.

Tsukimori was leaning against a telephone pole in front of the shop, waiting below a street light like the queen of the night.

"I knew you would come."

She spotted me and smiled like a blooming flower—revealing to me that my action wasn't unexpected at all.

I looked up at the night sky in order to suppress my boiling emotions. A crescent moon grinned at me tonight.

"You're not fair."

"What do you mean?"

"What are you scheming?"

"That's not nice, you know? As a girl I am very frightened to walk alone at night, you know?"

"Then why didn't you have your mother pick you up, or ask someone else among the staff see you off, or contact the police?"

"As always, you seem to have no idea of how a girl's heart works. I wanted ''you'' to see me home."

She laughed as though she was humming and linked her arm in mine. ''"Shampoo?"'' I wondered silently as I could perceive a sweet fragrance of flowers from her.

"Let's go."

From my experiences so far I had learned that one couldn't get free so easily once Tsukimori had taken the lead, but it was also fact that I, only ''unwillingly'' accepting her lead, certainly had no submissive nature.

Therefore, the few meters during which my arm was pressed against her full bosom were the purest humiliation to me.

I was beyond hope, though, because for just a second I had thought that, while Youko Tsukimori herself may have been the most ill-natured woman on earth, her soft bosom was blameless.

"I won't run away, so please stop this," I begged her with a sigh mixed in, and finally shook her off.

"Too bad. And we had finally created such a nice mood."

Tsukimori was sullen, but her steps remained light.

While watching her black hair dance behind her, I let out a loud sigh.

It may go without saying, but ''my'' steps were heavy.

We got on a train heading out of the city and passed through four stations while getting a good shake. When we alighted at our destination, we were in a residential zone in the outskirts.

"I live over there. A few minutes' walk from here."

Tsukimori pointed at a hill. I saw immediately that we would have a hard time climbing, looking at all the slopes and stairs that could be seen there. The sight alone had me dispirited.

"Don't frown like that. Going out with me means coming up this way all the time, you know?"

"My sympathies to your boyfriend."

"Don't worry. You'll get used to it in no time."

Tsukimori walked off without caring about my sagging spirits. "Look, the stars are beautiful tonight," she said, sounding easy-going.

Since I didn't want to turn around after coming so far, I followed her reluctantly.

It was a tranquil residential area and rather "classy".

The streets were lit with comparatively short gaps, but it was still eerily dark around us. I had to admit that the shivering she had shown earlier might have been more than mere acting.

As expected, I was completely drained by the time we came to a stop. Tsukimori, accustomed as she was, showed no indication of strain, making her appear more irritating than ever to me.

"Here we are," proclaimed Tsukimori and stood before the entrance.

It was a large white building. The term "mansion" might be appropriate.

Since her father had been the head of a construction design company, it was a rather fancy design, constructed with tetrahedrons systematically put together, giving it an overall geometric feel. I would have nodded in comprehension if someone had told me it was the house of a physicist.

There was no light inside, so her mother was apparently absent.

While I was curiously looking up at the house, Tsukimori tugged at my sleeve.

"Now that you're here, why don't you come in?"

Her proposal was most suspicious and virtually crying out to be doubted.

I knew it would be a pain if anyone got wind of that visit. If, on top of that, the guys at school learned that no one else had been in the house at the time, the rumors that might emerge from it exceeded my imagination. Especially in Kamogawa's case... I didn't even want to think about it.

By now I was sure everything had been an act of hers to make me enter her house. It would certainly rub me the wrong way if her plan succeeded.

"Good idea. I'm pretty thirsty; can I come in for a drink?"

Nonetheless, I accepted her offer because it was a very rare opportunity.

Though I had, as a matter of fact, ''suspended'' doubting her due to a lack of progress, I had by no means ''stopped''. The suspicion due to the murder recipe was still smoldering in my mind.

Originally I had expected that new progress would come from associating with her and learning more about her, but all my attempts had remained fruitless. The more I was in touch with her, the less I understood her true nature. I had no clue how to distinguish between her jokes and her serious statements. In other words, she was as slippery as an eel.

Hence, I had come to the conclusion that it might be better to approach her mother. From what I had seen of her at the funeral, she was not as complicated a person as Tsukimori. It shouldn't be necessary to probe Tsukimori herself to find out about her relationship to her father.

I followed Tsukimori into the house. Not a sound was to be heard inside.

While taking off my shoes at the entrance, I asked: "What time is your mother coming back?"

"Do you have a soft spot for older women?" teased Tsukimori with a laugh.

"At least more than for you," I answered—with an earnest face as a test.

"Now that's a shock, even if it is meant as a joke."

Tsukimori shook her head while taking out some slippers for us.

It seemed that I had taken the lead.

"My mother has gone out and will be back late. Today is your chance!"

"...just what sort of chance would that be, I wonder?"

I pushed her head away, since she had come closer to peek at my face.

And the lead went back to Tsukimori.

"I only wanted to introduce myself to her since I'm here."

"Oh, that pleases me to hear. Did you finally warm up to me?"

"I don't know how you took my words, but let me assure you that you're wrong."

I followed her into the living room.

"I'll bring something to drink. Make yourself comfortable on the sofa."

Tsukimori disappeared into the neighboring room, turning on the light there. Half of a well-equipped system kitchen entered my view.

I let my gaze sweep through the living room.

Like the outside, the residence of the Tsukimoris looked quite respectable from the inside: there was a leather sofa with an amber luster and a queerly shaped glass table which even an amateur could identify as a designer table. Furthermore, I found a terrifyingly large LCD TV and luxurious hi-fi equipment. The rumors were true: they were quite a wealthy family.

To my disappointment however, there was nothing special apart from that, like an object that would have served me as a clue for Tsukimori's relationship with her father.

Well, it was only natural that nothing too peculiar was placed in the living room where a lot of people went in and out. Unfortunately, though, I didn't have any pretext that would have allowed me to look through the other rooms, either. I couldn't help feeling that I had forfeited the rare chance of getting into her house.

I was still reeling in disappointment when Tsukimori came back with a tray of drinks.

"I hope you are fine with black tea?"

"Perfectly."

I intended to leave after emptying my cup. There was no use in staying for too long. However, Tsukimori had apparently read my intentions: "Make yourself at home! It's only Saturday tomorrow, so there's no need to hurry, right?"

"Are you out of your mind? I'm a man, you know?"

As if to make her the outlet of my letdown, my wording became a little harsh. I realized that I was acting pretty selfishly, since she wasn't to blame that I had set my own expectations too high.

"That only supports my argument! A boy should never leave an anxious girl behind alone."

"But this is your own home."

"Do you believe stalkers care about such obstacles?"

"How should I know how a stalker thinks? In the first place, that story sounds quite fishy to me anyway."

"Too bad," Tsukimori sighed slightly. "You sure don't let me have my way, Nonomiya-kun."

"That's my line. You lead me by the nose all the time!" I objected promptly. I was naturally unable to just accept it that my opponent forestalled me in saying what had constantly been on my mind.

A moment later, she whispered in a voice that was too loud to be a monologue: "...I wonder if I should consult Mirai-san about Nonomiya-kun..."

I almost spit out my black tea.

"...is that a threat?"

I stared with hostile eyes at Tsukimori.

"It's unavoidable. I simply wish to receive a piece of good advice from an older woman like Mirai-san. There's nothing strange about it, is there?"

Tsukimori covered half of her face under a cushion as if to block my gaze.

"Consulting Mirai-san about love problems is like asking the devil the way to heaven."

"That was a good one."

Tsukimori buried her nose in the cushion and giggled.

"It's no laughing matter. It's a most serious matter of life and death!"

I almost got a headache just by imagining a merry Mirai-san teasing me. I would surely have to say farewell to my busy yet peaceful work life, because she would be asking me about Tsukimori non-stop.

"I would not mind the colleagues at the café knowing about us. I don't like having secrets."

"''You'' don't mind."

Tsukimori may have been used to being the center of attention, but I was not. Just the thought of capturing everyone's attention gave me the shivers.

A comfortable role as a spectator suited me best. Everyone has his own qualities.

"To be frank, I would love to openly attempt winning you over."

"After all, you seem to be good at getting all the others on your side, right?" I said with a full load of sarcasm.

"An inborn virtue of mine?" countered Tsukimori without trouble.

"You don't say. You are a schemer, an actor and, if we get to the heart of it, just plain wicked. It's just that everyone is being deceived by your beautiful looks and doesn't notice your deadly thorns."

"You think I am beautiful? I am on cloud nine!"

"Where have the 'deadly thorns' gone?"

"Paying regard to things that aren't true goes against my principles."

Judging from her serious mien, she did not in the least mean to be joking. Most likely she was even scandalized, in fact.

But strangely enough, I also realized that a girl as "eye-catching" as her might actually need such nerves of steel.

"Would you like another cup?" smiled Tsukimori, ladylike and slightly inclining her head, with a porcelain tea pot in her hand.

"Please."

I held out my tea cup to her, waving the white flag in my mind.

I had chosen to watch her devilish scheme for a little longer.

Thirty minutes later.

"Your mother is pretty late," I addressed Tsukimori, who was sitting opposite of me.

"Yes, she said she would be."

"When is she going to be back then?"

"Hm... sometime around ten, I suppose?"

"That makes thirty minutes from now, huh."

I was starting to feel uncomfortable sharing the same time and room, just the two of us, but I was willing to bear up another half an hour and lay back in the sofa.

Tsukimori murmured, "Well, twenty-four hours from now, to be exact."

I bolted upright on the sofa and stared at her. She was leisurely browsing through a fashion magazine.

"What does that mean?"

"She has gone on a company outing and will be back tomorrow."

"—You deceived me?"

I was surprised myself by how deep my tone was.

"I honestly told you she would be late."

"How's that honest!? I'm leaving," I declared , stood up and headed towards the entrance. Most of the irritation was at myself for readily taking her bait.

Suddenly, something soft enveloped my arm. Tsukimori had clasped it.

"...please, don't leave me alone. I'm frightened!"

Her begging attitude and the soft touch against my arm made me falter.

The unusual fragility she was showing me was more than enough to activate my protective instinct—even if it was a deliberate action of hers to seduce me.

But my rationality cooled down the overwhelming reality and kept me from making a wrong decision.

"Your charm doesn't work on me! Besides, that's not fair. I never have accepted going out with you."

Two teenagers alone under one roof — an alluring setting. Being a boy in his teens myself, I was naturally interested in what would happen in such a situation, all the more if the girl in question was Youko Tsukimori.

"I don't mind if it's you."

As expected, she tried to capture me with inviting eyes and sweet words.

Had I met Youko Tsukimori under any other circumstances, I would have stood no chance against her seduction.

"I feel honored, but I have no such intentions!"

However, unlike that Nonomiya in the world of assumptions, the real one bore up against her. Because, much more than I was hoping for an alluring development, I was scared.

It was wariness that sustained my rationality.

What was Youko Tsukimori scheming?

It was then that I felt that I had caught a glimpse of the true intention behind her request to date her.

Perhaps, Tsukimori didn't have in mind to get rid of me, but to get me under her control?

She was well aware of her own attractiveness and knew how to use it effectively. I had been able to observe that fact more than enough lately. So, perhaps she was trying to make me her faithful puppet of sorts? She could be sure that I would not leak her secret in that case, couldn't she?

Of course, provided that she really had noticed that I knew of and had the murder recipe.

Either way, I had to get out of there as fast as possible. Even if my assumptions were true and confirmed by Tsukimori at that, it was only a matter of time until I would give in to her.

Because her words may have been lies, ''but her attractiveness was a fact''.

As things stood, I was going to fall victim to her venom. I knew for sure that as soon as that happened, the poison would spread slowly but surely and paralyze my will to resist.

I shook her off and hurried towards the entrance, but Tsukimori rushed after me in the same breath. This time she clung to me from behind, restraining me.

Her warmth, her softness, her entrancing fragrance blended into a charm deluding the senses and attacked me from behind.

"...It does not matter what you feel for me..."

Her soft breath touched the nape of my neck. I knew that I had to escape, but I couldn't move a muscle.

"...touch me... do whatever you want with me..."

Her delightful words entered my head through my eardrums and turned into paralyzing electrical signals flashing through my entire body. My poisoned legs had already lost the strength to resist a single high school girl.

[[Image:Gekkou-122.jpg|thumb]]

She gently pushed me into the sofa, leaning against me. The lamp behind Tsukimori created a mystic contrast on her face. She placed her head on my shoulder and put her hands lightly on my chest—as if to feel my heartbeat. Her white, slender neck was exposed to me right by my chin.

While I was still bereft of speech, she whispered into my ear, "Please. I want you to."

It sounded to me like a saint's enigmatic absolution.

A moment later, she nibbled the defenseless nape of my neck.

The soft sensation of her tender red lips caused my shoulders to jump. I had never experienced such an impulse before, it was similar to tickling but still different.

My body was about to run out of control. In an attempt to push her away, I slid my hands between us and thrust towards the ceiling. Unwilling to be separated, she resisted and twisted her body. My resisting hands merely brushed against her soft breasts, stroked her smooth sides and lost themselves in blank space.

At that moment, Tsukimori uttered a suppressed moan and writhed, still straddling me.

It was smashing. My rationality was entirely blown away by her unexpected sensitive reaction.

Letting my instincts take over, I swapped places and sat astride her. I laid one hand on the white nape of her neck and traced her lush red lips with my fingers. I inhaled her intensive flowery scent, kissed her collarbone and put my knee between her thighs.

She reacted exquisitely to each of my actions. I was aware that the blood circulating in my veins was enraptured by pleasure.

Right now———Youko Tsukimori was under my control.

That feeling of elation was far beyond normal. Even I, the cool thinker by principle, would have loved screaming as my feelings told me.

While frantically suppressing the urge to rush, I kept on caressing Tsukimori. I wanted the pleasure to hold on for as long as possible.

However, I was suddenly stricken by a shock that made my heart skip a beat. I had noticed her unusual reaction.

"—You're trembling."

Tsukimori blinked a few times with her eyes that in passion had lost focus.

"...I am?" she asked with gentle lip-movements, her voice full of heat.

She was unaware of it herself, but she was trembling all over.

Feelings of guilt that I had pushed aside as my rationality had gone out of the window suddenly sprung up in me like water.

"...we really shouldn't be doing this. Let's stop," I stated while raising my body.

Tsukimori's "tremor" appeared to me like "rejection".

I certainly didn't stop because I was a good person but, on the other hand, neither did I enjoy subjugating girls against their will for my own satisfaction.

I was frightened, plain and simple. Frightened of shouldering a sin against ''her'' that could not be amended.

She was still lying on the sofa, looking up at me with wondering eyes. Behind her rumpled uniform, I could see her bulging snow-white skin. I averted my gaze automatically.

"Why? Didn't I say it's fine?"

"But you are trembling."

"That's because of excitement!"

"I don't think so."

"It is!"

The next moment, Tsukimori said something I couldn't believe.

"It's my first time after all!"

"So I can't help it," she added.

No words.

I cast her off and stood up as if to retreat.

"Why?!" I shouted, channeling all my bewilderment into one word. That was the only thing I could do.

"Everyone has a first time," replied Tsukimori with girlishly pure eyes.

"But that's not how you go about it!"

"That's different for everyone."

"...do as you please as long as it's your own problem. But this time it's me that would have been your partner, you get that?"

"Yes, you are right, I don't know if I am able to satisfy you because it's my first time...," she worried.

She had to be joking.

"Ah, but I'm positive that I will develop excellent skills the more we do it. You know that I'm a fast learner, right? Be it at school or at work."

However, Tsukimori looked dead serious.

"That's not the problem!!"

When was the last time I had become that agitated? I couldn't remember. Thank you very much for this valuable experience, Tsukimori.

"Why are you always so... so reckless!"

"I am surprised myself."

"Don't act so unconcerned!"

"Someone once said that girls in love are invincible; there might be more truth to it than I thought. After all I do feel capable of anything right now," she nodded approvingly.

"Please, don't only think about yourself..." I let out a grand sigh. "In the first place, what happened to the rumors about you? Haven't you gone out with numerous boys so far?"

It's not like I believed her offhandedly.

A girl like Tsukimori should have had countless opportunities to lose "it" in her life. Wasn't she just playing with me?

"...I don't want to tell you," she averted her gaze to the side.

"You can't say that after dragging me in like that, can you? I have the right to know."

"I don't care."

"Don't be such a child."

"I bet you see me as some kind of slut!"

Tsukimori pursed her lips.

She was now sounding queerly like a precocious little girl. Where did the bewitching girl go that seduced me?

"Fine! I won't ask anymore if you don't want to tell me."

I thought there was no use questioning her in that thickheaded state.

"...Do you really want me to tell you?"

"...Which is it now!"

Good heavens. As always she was hard to read.

Tsukimori took a deep breath and made up her mind.

"I'll be honest. I have gone out with several boys until now."

"As I thought."

"Hey, that's not nice, you know. Let me assure you: I may have gone out with various boys, but not once have I given myself to anyone. I didn't even let them touch me like you have. Honestly."

"You want me to buy that?"

"They were all good and kind people and really loved me."

"...Good for you..."

"But every time something felt off. In some way I knew that none of them was my destined partner," she told me with slightly downcast eyes, wallowing in reminiscences.

"Then why me?"

"Because you seemed different from the others! In the beginning it was just a baseless intuition, of course. At first I wanted to go out with you without thinking too deeply, as I used to do with the other boys. Because getting someone to date me is simple."

"That sure doesn't sound like something someone my age would say. Come on, how old are you really?"

Tsukimori found my apathetic attitude funny, it seemed. She giggled with great amusement.

"But I had not dreamed that you would reject me."

"So sorry for not living up to your expectations."

"No, by no means! Thanks to that, I gained a sudden burst of enthusiasm. So the result is absolutely fine!"

"...That's how life goes, I guess. Never the way you want it to."

Tsukimori's triumphant joy had the opposite effect on my mood. She made me remember that whatever I did to her always ended up backfiring on me.

"Indeed... I wonder why things never work out the way you want them in life."

This time it was me who couldn't help laughing, seeing her say that with a solemn mien.

"If ''you'' of all people don't get your way, us commoners are stumped."

The worries of someone who had everything seemed incredibly ridiculous to me.

"You are all just overestimating me, really."

"But you deserve to be overestimated, from a neutral point of view."

"Why is it that I cannot make you mine, then?"

She squinted at my eyes as if to peek into my heart.

"...Who knows? It's a riddle even to me," I answered vaguely, looking away. For obvious reasons I could have never told her that it's because the murder recipe was on my mind.

"Meany."

"Call me whatever you like."

"But I like you anyway, Nonomiya-kun, even if you are cruel and mean to me," laughed Tsukimori while brushing her hair. It was a gorgeous demeanor. "How can I explain it...? It is just so enjoyable to talk with you."

She carefully chose her words, which made me realize that she was trying her utmost to convey her feelings precisely.

"You could say that we are... trying to outdo each other? Our conversation feel so exciting and enjoyable to me because they're unpredictable. I just can't talk enough with you."

Her words silenced me, and caused me to stare at her. I was struck by surprise that she was of the same mind as me.

Strong sympathy can change ridiculously easily into a sense of closeness.

Indeed, at that very instant, Youko Tsukimori became a special girl to me.

"When I imagined how stimulating every day would become if I went out with you, I realized that you had to be my destined partner. So I did not really need to hesitate. You are the one I deemed destined for me; I wanted you to have my first time."

To make matters worse, she looked even more attractive now that I had become conscious of her. I've heard subjectivity incorporates a function that applies a filter to the brain that makes you interpret things in your favor.

"I didn't know I was so bold."

"And I wish I didn't know that you were so sharp tongued."

I shrugged extensively for show. Of course, I was not at all composed. It was quite the contrary: I was disturbed. You could say that I had a hard time dealing with the radical change of my feelings.

I had previously regarded any situation objectively with the utmost effort in order to bear up against Tsukimori and her staggering presence. Otherwise I would have fallen victim to her charm like everyone else.

However, now that subjectivity had mixed into my view, I couldn't remain calm anymore. My awakened instincts told me to savor the defenseless fruit before my eyes.

"I'm leaving."

This time I seriously had to leave or I would end up loathing myself.

"Don't you want to check?"

I heard Tsukimori's voice behind me when I was walking towards the living room door.

"Check what?"

"—Whether it really would have been my first time or not."

I felt the urge to turn around, but I chose to remain on course.

She would have surely shown me a devilish smile that very much met my preference and ruined my newly gained determination.

"Please forget what happened today. I wasn't myself."

"I don't want to," she declared.

"It's in both our interests."

"It's a valuable memory of the 'destined partner' I finally found."

"I'm stunned that you can use that phrase so carelessly. Say that again in ten years."

"I am not using the word carelessly. Didn't you know that every girl is searching for her 'destined partner' from the moment she is born?"

"Well, my sympathies for all the trouble."

With that parting shot I opened the door. In that instant, I heard footsteps rushing towards me resounding on the flooring.

"Are you really leaving me?"

...No use using such lonely words.

"Of course."

"Even though I want you to stay so much?"

...No use using such pleading words.

"Well, ''I'' want to go home as fast as possible."

"You really are hard to deal with, Nonomiya-kun," she said, sighing.

I spontaneously turned around and glared at her. "You're the last person I want to hear that from!"

Tsukimori laughed heartily at seeing my unwilling attitude.

...Please, let me go already.

"Goodbye."

"Be seeing you."

Even though I intentionally stomped on the floor to express my bad temper, I happened to see her sad and weak wave goodbye. It would be a lie to say that I didn't feel anything while closing the front door.

<noinclude>
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[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Bitter Chocolate|Bitter Chocolate]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine|Orange & Wine]]}}
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[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare

2011-10-26T22:17:52Z

Andrewgr: could also be rephrased as "It certainly rubbed me the wrong way that her plan had succeeded." The original phrasing combines the two and can't be parsed correctly.

==[Sweet Nightmare]==

At the staff room after closing time.

"I would like you to see me home," requested Tsukimori after changing into her school uniform.

"See you home...?" I repeated warily like a parrot.

"You see, I always feel someone's gaze on me on the way from the café to the train station..."

She gave a shiver.

"Aren't you just being paranoid?" I wanted to say at first, but I reconsidered because it was quite possible in her case. After all, she was no doubt eye-catching. Instead, I suggested, "Then you should consult the police rather than me."

"Weak, Nonomiya! That's weak! Come on, be a man and protect her!"

Mirai-san, who had apparently followed our exchange, thumped a table close to her. The staff nearby turned around, surprised, to see what was going on.

"I don't mean to brag, but I don't have confidence in my strength. Even if she gets attacked by a stalker, the best I can do is get beaten up myself."

"You aren't bragging at all! And if you're a man, you ought to bravely fight all the same, even if you have to put your neck on the line!"

"I'm under the impression that you would make a better bodyguard than me, Mirai-san."

"Moron! I'm a delicate young lady, you know? I also need to be protected."

I shrugged exaggeratedly and took a look at the faces of the rest of the staff. They could only answer my gaze with lopsided smiles because they feared her, but their real thoughts were bound to be the same as mine.

"Very funny, indeed."

"Heh, does your face look like you wanna complain? Nonomiya?"

Mirai-san drew closer with glaring eyes.

"Mirai-san, let it be. If Nonomiya-kun refuses so adamantly, there is nothing that can be done about it. I will try my best to get home alone...," Tsukimori sighed and plodded towards the entrance.

The very moment before she closed the door—

"..................haah..."

—She let out a deep sigh that resounded through the whole staffroom.

All gazes focused on me at once, each of which was reproachful. A close friend can become a close enemy, indeed.

"See her off, Nonomiya-kun," said the manager at last, siding with Tsukimori like the others.

Powered by this, the whole staff started criticizing me. I was attacked from all sides. Outnumbered. I was completely made out to be the bad guy.

"Fine, fine, I've got it already! I'll go see her home, okay?" I groaned and jumped out of the uncomfortable staffroom to run after Tsukimori.

To my surprise, I caught up with her immediately after leaving the café.

Tsukimori was leaning against a telephone pole in front of the shop, waiting below a street light like the queen of the night.

"I knew you would come."

She spotted me and smiled like a blooming flower—revealing to me that my action wasn't unexpected at all.

I looked up at the night sky in order to suppress my boiling emotions. A crescent moon grinned at me tonight.

"You're not fair."

"What do you mean?"

"What are you scheming?"

"That's not nice, you know? As a girl I am very frightened to walk alone at night, you know?"

"Then why didn't you have your mother pick you up, or ask someone else among the staff see you off, or contact the police?"

"As always, you seem to have no idea of how a girl's heart works. I wanted ''you'' to see me home."

She laughed as though she was humming and linked her arm in mine. ''"Shampoo?"'' I wondered silently as I could perceive a sweet fragrance of flowers from her.

"Let's go."

From my experiences so far I had learned that one couldn't get free so easily once Tsukimori had taken the lead, but it was also fact that I, only ''unwillingly'' accepting her lead, certainly had no submissive nature.

Therefore, the few meters during which my arm was pressed against her full bosom were the purest humiliation to me.

I was beyond hope, though, because for just a second I had thought that, while Youko Tsukimori herself may have been the most ill-natured woman on earth, her soft bosom was blameless.

"I won't run away, so please stop this," I begged her with a sigh mixed in, and finally shook her off.

"Too bad. And we had finally created such a nice mood."

Tsukimori was sullen, but her steps remained light.

While watching her black hair dance behind her, I let out a loud sigh.

It may go without saying, but ''my'' steps were heavy.

We got on a train heading out of the city and passed through four stations while getting a good shake. When we alighted at our destination, we were in a residential zone in the outskirts.

"I live over there. A few minutes' walk from here."

Tsukimori pointed at a hill. I saw immediately that we would have a hard time climbing, looking at all the slopes and stairs that could be seen there. The sight alone had me dispirited.

"Don't frown like that. Going out with me means coming up this way all the time, you know?"

"My sympathies to your boyfriend."

"Don't worry. You'll get used to it in no time."

Tsukimori walked off without caring about my sagging spirits. "Look, the stars are beautiful tonight," she said, sounding easy-going.

Since I didn't want to turn around after coming so far, I followed her reluctantly.

It was a tranquil residential area and rather "classy".

The streets were lit with comparatively short gaps, but it was still eerily dark around us. I had to admit that the shivering she had shown earlier might have been more than mere acting.

As expected, I was completely drained by the time we came to a stop. Tsukimori, accustomed as she was, showed no indication of strain, making her appear more irritating than ever to me.

"Here we are," proclaimed Tsukimori and stood before the entrance.

It was a large white building. The term "mansion" might be appropriate.

Since her father had been the head of a construction design company, it was a rather fancy design, constructed with tetrahedrons systematically put together, giving it an overall geometric feel. I would have nodded in comprehension if someone had told me it was the house of a physicist.

There was no light inside, so her mother was apparently absent.

While I was curiously looking up at the house, Tsukimori tugged at my sleeve.

"Now that you're here, why don't you come in?"

Her proposal was most suspicious and virtually crying out to be doubted.

I knew it would be a pain if anyone got wind of that visit. If, on top of that, the guys at school learned that no one else had been in the house at the time, the rumors that might emerge from it exceeded my imagination. Especially in Kamogawa's case... I didn't even want to think about it.

By now I was sure everything had been an act of hers to make me enter her house. It would certainly rub me the wrong way if her plan succeeded.

"Good idea. I'm pretty thirsty; can I come in for a drink?"

Nonetheless, I accepted her offer because it was a very rare opportunity.

Though I had, as a matter of fact, ''suspended'' doubting her due to a lack of progress, I had by no means ''stopped''. The suspicion due to the murder recipe was still smoldering in my mind.

Originally I had expected that new progress would come from associating with her and learning more about her, but all my attempts had remained fruitless. The more I was in touch with her, the less I understood her true nature. I had no clue how to distinguish between her jokes and her serious statements. In other words, she was as slippery as an eel.

Hence, I had come to the conclusion that it might be better to approach her mother. From what I had seen of her at the funeral, she was not as complicated a person as Tsukimori. It shouldn't be necessary to probe Tsukimori herself to find out about her relationship to her father.

I followed Tsukimori into the house. Not a sound was to be heard inside.

While taking off my shoes at the entrance, I asked: "What time is your mother coming back?"

"Do you have a soft spot for older women?" teased Tsukimori with a laugh.

"At least more than for you," I answered—with an earnest face as a test.

"Now that's a shock, even if it is meant as a joke."

Tsukimori shook her head while taking out some slippers for us.

It seemed that I had taken the lead.

"My mother has gone out and will be back late. Today is your chance!"

"...just what sort of chance would that be, I wonder?"

I pushed her head away, since she had come closer to peek at my face.

And the lead went back to Tsukimori.

"I only wanted to introduce myself to her since I'm here."

"Oh, that pleases me to hear. Did you finally warm up to me?"

"I don't know how you took my words, but let me assure you that you're wrong."

I followed her into the living room.

"I'll bring something to drink. Make yourself comfortable on the sofa."

Tsukimori disappeared into the neighboring room, turning on the light there. Half of a well-equipped system kitchen entered my view.

I let my gaze sweep through the living room.

Like the outside, the residence of the Tsukimoris looked quite respectable from the inside: there was a leather sofa with an amber luster and a queerly shaped glass table which even an amateur could identify as a designer table. Furthermore, I found a terrifyingly large LCD TV and luxurious hi-fi equipment. The rumors were true: they were quite a wealthy family.

To my disappointment however, there was nothing special apart from that, like an object that would have served me as a clue for Tsukimori's relationship with her father.

Well, it was only natural that nothing too peculiar was placed in the living room where a lot of people went in and out. Unfortunately, though, I didn't have any pretext that would have allowed me to look through the other rooms, either. I couldn't help feeling that I had forfeited the rare chance of getting into her house.

I was still reeling in disappointment when Tsukimori came back with a tray of drinks.

"I hope you are fine with black tea?"

"Perfectly."

I intended to leave after emptying my cup. There was no use in staying for too long. However, Tsukimori had apparently read my intentions: "Make yourself at home! It's only Saturday tomorrow, so there's no need to hurry, right?"

"Are you out of your mind? I'm a man, you know?"

As if to make her the outlet of my letdown, my wording became a little harsh. I realized that I was acting pretty selfishly, since she wasn't to blame that I had set my own expectations too high.

"That only supports my argument! A boy should never leave an anxious girl behind alone."

"But this is your own home."

"Do you believe stalkers care about such obstacles?"

"How should I know how a stalker thinks? In the first place, that story sounds quite fishy to me anyway."

"Too bad," Tsukimori sighed slightly. "You sure don't let me have my way, Nonomiya-kun."

"That's my line. You lead me by the nose all the time!" I objected promptly. I was naturally unable to just accept it that my opponent forestalled me in saying what had constantly been on my mind.

A moment later, she whispered in a voice that was too loud to be a monologue: "...I wonder if I should consult Mirai-san about Nonomiya-kun..."

I almost spit out my black tea.

"...is that a threat?"

I stared with hostile eyes at Tsukimori.

"It's unavoidable. I simply wish to receive a piece of good advice from an older woman like Mirai-san. There's nothing strange about it, is there?"

Tsukimori covered half of her face under a cushion as if to block my gaze.

"Consulting Mirai-san about love problems is like asking the devil the way to heaven."

"That was a good one."

Tsukimori buried her nose in the cushion and giggled.

"It's no laughing matter. It's a most serious matter of life and death!"

I almost got a headache just by imagining a merry Mirai-san teasing me. I would surely have to say farewell to my busy yet peaceful work life, because she would be asking me about Tsukimori non-stop.

"I would not mind the colleagues at the café knowing about us. I don't like having secrets."

"''You'' don't mind."

Tsukimori may have been used to being the center of attention, but I was not. Just the thought of capturing everyone's attention gave me the shivers.

A comfortable role as a spectator suited me best. Everyone has his own qualities.

"To be frank, I would love to openly attempt winning you over."

"After all, you seem to be good at getting all the others on your side, right?" I said with a full load of sarcasm.

"An inborn virtue of mine?" countered Tsukimori without trouble.

"You don't say. You are a schemer, an actor and, if we get to the heart of it, just plain wicked. It's just that everyone is being deceived by your beautiful looks and doesn't notice your deadly thorns."

"You think I am beautiful? I am on cloud nine!"

"Where have the 'deadly thorns' gone?"

"Paying regard to things that aren't true goes against my principles."

Judging from her serious mien, she did not in the least mean to be joking. Most likely she was even scandalized, in fact.

But strangely enough, I also realized that a girl as "eye-catching" as her might actually need such nerves of steel.

"Would you like another cup?" smiled Tsukimori, ladylike and slightly inclining her head, with a porcelain tea pot in her hand.

"Please."

I held out my tea cup to her, waving the white flag in my mind.

I had chosen to watch her devilish scheme for a little longer.

Thirty minutes later.

"Your mother is pretty late," I addressed Tsukimori, who was sitting opposite of me.

"Yes, she said she would be."

"When is she going to be back then?"

"Hm... sometime around ten, I suppose?"

"That makes thirty minutes from now, huh."

I was starting to feel uncomfortable sharing the same time and room just by the two of us, but I was willing to bear up another half an hour and lay back in the sofa.

Tsukimori murmured, "Well, twenty-four hours from now, to be exact."

I bolted upright on the sofa and stared at her. She was leisurely browsing through a fashion magazine.

"What does that mean?"

"She has gone on a company outing and will be back tomorrow."

"—You deceived me?"

I was surprised myself by how deep my tone was.

"I honestly told you she would be late."

"How's that honest!? I'm leaving," I declared , stood up and headed towards the entrance. Most of the irritation was at myself for readily taking her bait.

Suddenly, something soft enveloped my arm. Tsukimori had clasped it.

"...please, don't leave me alone. I'm frightened!"

Her begging attitude and the soft touch against my arm made me falter.

The unusual fragility she was showing me was more than enough to activate my protective instinct—even if it was a deliberate action of hers to seduce me.

But my rationality cooled down the overwhelming reality and kept me from making a wrong decision.

"Your charm doesn't work on me! Besides, that's not fair. I never have accepted going out with you."

Two teenagers alone under one roof — an alluring setting. Being a boy in his teens myself, I was naturally interested in what would happen in such a situation, all the more if the girl in question was Youko Tsukimori.

"I don't mind if it's you."

As expected, she tried to capture me with inviting eyes and sweet words.

Had I met Youko Tsukimori under any other circumstances, I would have stood no chance against her seduction.

"I feel honored, but I have no such intentions!"

However, unlike that Nonomiya in the world of assumptions, the real one bore up against her. Because, much more than I was hoping for an alluring development, I was scared.

It was wariness that sustained my rationality.

What was Youko Tsukimori scheming?

It was then that I felt that I had caught a glimpse of the true intention behind her request to date her.

Perhaps, Tsukimori didn't have in mind to get rid of me, but to get me under her control?

She was well aware of her own attractiveness and knew how to use it effectively. I had been able to observe that fact more than enough lately. So, perhaps she was trying to make me her faithful puppet of sorts? She could be sure that I would not leak her secret in that case, couldn't she?

Of course, provided that she really had noticed that I knew of and had the murder recipe.

Either way, I had to get out of there as fast as possible. Even if my assumptions were true and confirmed by Tsukimori at that, it was only a matter of time until I would give in to her.

Because her words may have been lies, ''but her attractiveness was a fact''.

As things stood, I was going to fall victim to her venom. I knew for sure that as soon as that happened, the poison would spread slowly but surely and paralyze my will to resist.

I shook her off and hurried towards the entrance, but Tsukimori rushed after me in the same breath. This time she clung to me from behind, restraining me.

Her warmth, her softness, her entrancing fragrance blended into a charm deluding the senses and attacked me from behind.

"...It does not matter what you feel for me..."

Her soft breath touched the nape of my neck. I knew that I had to escape, but I couldn't move a muscle.

"...touch me... do whatever you want with me..."

Her delightful words entered my head through my eardrums and turned into paralyzing electrical signals flashing through my entire body. My poisoned legs had already lost the strength to resist a single high school girl.

[[Image:Gekkou-122.jpg|thumb]]

She gently pushed me into the sofa, leaning against me. The lamp behind Tsukimori created a mystic contrast on her face. She placed her head on my shoulder and put her hands lightly on my chest—as if to feel my heartbeat. Her white, slender neck was exposed to me right by my chin.

While I was still bereft of speech, she whispered into my ear, "Please. I want you to."

It sounded to me like a saint's enigmatic absolution.

A moment later, she nibbled the defenseless nape of my neck.

The soft sensation of her tender red lips caused my shoulders to jump. I had never experienced such an impulse before, it was similar to tickling but still different.

My body was about to run out of control. In an attempt to push her away, I slid my hands between us and thrust towards the ceiling. Unwilling to be separated, she resisted and twisted her body. My resisting hands merely brushed against her soft breasts, stroked her smooth sides and lost themselves in blank space.

At that moment, Tsukimori uttered a suppressed moan and writhed, still straddling me.

It was smashing. My rationality was entirely blown away by her unexpected sensitive reaction.

Letting my instincts take over, I swapped places and sat astride her. I laid one hand on the white nape of her neck and traced her lush red lips with my fingers. I inhaled her intensive flowery scent, kissed her collarbone and put my knee between her thighs.

She reacted exquisitely to each of my actions. I was aware that the blood circulating in my veins was enraptured by pleasure.

Right now———Youko Tsukimori was under my control.

That feeling of elation was far beyond normal. Even I, the cool thinker by principle, would have loved screaming as my feelings told me.

While frantically suppressing the urge to rush, I kept on caressing Tsukimori. I wanted the pleasure to hold on for as long as possible.

However, I was suddenly stricken by a shock that made my heart skip a beat. I had noticed her unusual reaction.

"—You're trembling."

Tsukimori blinked a few times with her eyes that in passion had lost focus.

"...I am?" she asked with gentle lip-movements, her voice full of heat.

She was unaware of it herself, but she was trembling all over.

Feelings of guilt that I had pushed aside as my rationality had gone out of the window suddenly sprung up in me like water.

"...we really shouldn't be doing this. Let's stop," I stated while raising my body.

Tsukimori's "tremor" appeared to me like "rejection".

I certainly didn't stop because I was a good person but, on the other hand, neither did I enjoy subjugating girls against their will for my own satisfaction.

I was frightened, plain and simple. Frightened of shouldering a sin against ''her'' that could not be amended.

She was still lying on the sofa, looking up at me with wondering eyes. Behind her rumpled uniform, I could see her bulging snow-white skin. I averted my gaze automatically.

"Why? Didn't I say it's fine?"

"But you are trembling."

"That's because of excitement!"

"I don't think so."

"It is!"

The next moment, Tsukimori said something I couldn't believe.

"It's my first time after all!"

"So I can't help it," she added.

No words.

I cast her off and stood up as if to retreat.

"Why?!" I shouted, channeling all my bewilderment into one word. That was the only thing I could do.

"Everyone has a first time," replied Tsukimori with girlishly pure eyes.

"But that's not how you go about it!"

"That's different for everyone."

"...do as you please as long as it's your own problem. But this time it's me that would have been your partner, you get that?"

"Yes, you are right, I don't know if I am able to satisfy you because it's my first time...," she worried.

She had to be joking.

"Ah, but I'm positive that I will develop excellent skills the more we do it. You know that I'm a fast learner, right? Be it at school or at work."

However, Tsukimori looked dead serious.

"That's not the problem!!"

When was the last time I had become that agitated? I couldn't remember. Thank you very much for this valuable experience, Tsukimori.

"Why are you always so... so reckless!"

"I am surprised myself."

"Don't act so unconcerned!"

"Someone once said that girls in love are invincible; there might be more truth to it than I thought. After all I do feel capable of anything right now," she nodded approvingly.

"Please, don't only think about yourself..." I let out a grand sigh. "In the first place, what happened to the rumors about you? Haven't you gone out with numerous boys so far?"

It's not like I believed her offhandedly.

A girl like Tsukimori should have had countless opportunities to lose "it" in her life. Wasn't she just playing with me?

"...I don't want to tell you," she averted her gaze to the side.

"You can't say that after dragging me in like that, can you? I have the right to know."

"I don't care."

"Don't be such a child."

"I bet you see me as some kind of slut!"

Tsukimori pursed her lips.

She was now sounding queerly like a precocious little girl. Where did the bewitching girl go that seduced me?

"Fine! I won't ask anymore if you don't want to tell me."

I thought there was no use questioning her in that thickheaded state.

"...Do you really want me to tell you?"

"...Which is it now!"

Good heavens. As always she was hard to read.

Tsukimori took a deep breath and made up her mind.

"I'll be honest. I have gone out with several boys until now."

"As I thought."

"Hey, that's not nice, you know. Let me assure you: I may have gone out with various boys, but not once have I given myself to anyone. I didn't even let them touch me like you have. Honestly."

"You want me to buy that?"

"They were all good and kind people and really loved me."

"...Good for you..."

"But every time something felt off. In some way I knew that none of them was my destined partner," she told me with slightly downcast eyes, wallowing in reminiscences.

"Then why me?"

"Because you seemed different from the others! In the beginning it was just a baseless intuition, of course. At first I wanted to go out with you without thinking too deeply, as I used to do with the other boys. Because getting someone to date me is simple."

"That sure doesn't sound like something someone my age would say. Come on, how old are you really?"

Tsukimori found my apathetic attitude funny, it seemed. She giggled with great amusement.

"But I had not dreamed that you would reject me."

"So sorry for not living up to your expectations."

"No, by no means! Thanks to that, I gained a sudden burst of enthusiasm. So the result is absolutely fine!"

"...That's how life goes, I guess. Never the way you want it to."

Tsukimori's triumphant joy had the opposite effect on my mood. She made me remember that whatever I did to her always ended up backfiring on me.

"Indeed... I wonder why things never work out the way you want them in life."

This time it was me who couldn't help laughing, seeing her say that with a solemn mien.

"If ''you'' of all people don't get your way, us commoners are stumped."

The worries of someone who had everything seemed incredibly ridiculous to me.

"You are all just overestimating me, really."

"But you deserve to be overestimated, from a neutral point of view."

"Why is it that I cannot make you mine, then?"

She squinted at my eyes as if to peek into my heart.

"...Who knows? It's a riddle even to me," I answered vaguely, looking away. For obvious reasons I could have never told her that it's because the murder recipe was on my mind.

"Meany."

"Call me whatever you like."

"But I like you anyway, Nonomiya-kun, even if you are cruel and mean to me," laughed Tsukimori while brushing her hair. It was a gorgeous demeanor. "How can I explain it...? It is just so enjoyable to talk with you."

She carefully chose her words, which made me realize that she was trying her utmost to convey her feelings precisely.

"You could say that we are... trying to outdo each other? Our conversation feel so exciting and enjoyable to me because they're unpredictable. I just can't talk enough with you."

Her words silenced me, and caused me to stare at her. I was struck by surprise that she was of the same mind as me.

Strong sympathy can change ridiculously easily into a sense of closeness.

Indeed, at that very instant, Youko Tsukimori became a special girl to me.

"When I imagined how stimulating every day would become if I went out with you, I realized that you had to be my destined partner. So I did not really need to hesitate. You are the one I deemed destined for me; I wanted you to have my first time."

To make matters worse, she looked even more attractive now that I had become conscious of her. I've heard subjectivity incorporates a function that applies a filter to the brain that makes you interpret things in your favor.

"I didn't know I was so bold."

"And I wish I didn't know that you were so sharp tongued."

I shrugged extensively for show. Of course, I was not at all composed. It was quite the contrary: I was disturbed. You could say that I had a hard time dealing with the radical change of my feelings.

I had previously regarded any situation objectively with the utmost effort in order to bear up against Tsukimori and her staggering presence. Otherwise I would have fallen victim to her charm like everyone else.

However, now that subjectivity had mixed into my view, I couldn't remain calm anymore. My awakened instincts told me to savor the defenseless fruit before my eyes.

"I'm leaving."

This time I seriously had to leave or I would end up loathing myself.

"Don't you want to check?"

I heard Tsukimori's voice behind me when I was walking towards the living room door.

"Check what?"

"—Whether it really would have been my first time or not."

I felt the urge to turn around, but I chose to remain on course.

She would have surely shown me a devilish smile that very much met my preference and ruined my newly gained determination.

"Please forget what happened today. I wasn't myself."

"I don't want to," she declared.

"It's in both our interests."

"It's a valuable memory of the 'destined partner' I finally found."

"I'm stunned that you can use that phrase so carelessly. Say that again in ten years."

"I am not using the word carelessly. Didn't you know that every girl is searching for her 'destined partner' from the moment she is born?"

"Well, my sympathies for all the trouble."

With that parting shot I opened the door. In that instant, I heard footsteps rushing towards me resounding on the flooring.

"Are you really leaving me?"

...No use using such lonely words.

"Of course."

"Even though I want you to stay so much?"

...No use using such pleading words.

"Well, ''I'' want to go home as fast as possible."

"You really are hard to deal with, Nonomiya-kun," she said, sighing.

I spontaneously turned around and glared at her. "You're the last person I want to hear that from!"

Tsukimori laughed heartily at seeing my unwilling attitude.

...Please, let me go already.

"Goodbye."

"Be seeing you."

Even though I intentionally stomped on the floor to express my bad temper, I happened to see her sad and weak wave goodbye. It would be a lie to say that I didn't feel anything while closing the front door.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Bitter Chocolate|Bitter Chocolate]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine|Orange & Wine]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare

2011-10-26T22:14:16Z

Andrewgr: corrected phrasing

==[Sweet Nightmare]==

At the staff room after closing time.

"I would like you to see me home," requested Tsukimori after changing into her school uniform.

"See you home...?" I repeated warily like a parrot.

"You see, I always feel someone's gaze on me on the way from the café to the train station..."

She gave a shiver.

"Aren't you just being paranoid?" I wanted to say at first, but I reconsidered because it was quite possible in her case. After all, she was no doubt eye-catching. Instead, I suggested, "Then you should consult the police rather than me."

"Weak, Nonomiya! That's weak! Come on, be a man and protect her!"

Mirai-san, who had apparently followed our exchange, thumped a table close to her. The staff nearby turned around, surprised, to see what was going on.

"I don't mean to brag, but I don't have confidence in my strength. Even if she gets attacked by a stalker, the best I can do is get beaten up myself."

"You aren't bragging at all! And if you're a man, you ought to bravely fight all the same, even if you have to put your neck on the line!"

"I'm under the impression that you would make a better bodyguard than me, Mirai-san."

"Moron! I'm a delicate young lady, you know? I also need to be protected."

I shrugged exaggeratedly and took a look at the faces of the rest of the staff. They could only answer my gaze with lopsided smiles because they feared her, but their real thoughts were bound to be the same as mine.

"Very funny, indeed."

"Heh, does your face look like you wanna complain? Nonomiya?"

Mirai-san drew closer with glaring eyes.

"Mirai-san, let it be. If Nonomiya-kun refuses so adamantly, there is nothing that can be done about it. I will try my best to get home alone...," Tsukimori sighed and plodded towards the entrance.

The very moment before she closed the door—

"..................haah..."

—She let out a deep sigh that resounded through the whole staffroom.

All gazes focused on me at once, each of which was reproachful. A close friend can become a close enemy, indeed.

"See her off, Nonomiya-kun," said the manager at last, siding with Tsukimori like the others.

Powered by this, the whole staff started criticizing me. I was attacked from all sides. Outnumbered. I was completely made out to be the bad guy.

"Fine, fine, I've got it already! I'll go see her home, okay?" I groaned and jumped out of the uncomfortable staffroom to run after Tsukimori.

To my surprise, I caught up with her immediately after leaving the café.

Tsukimori was leaning against a telephone pole in front of the shop, waiting below a street light like the queen of the night.

"I knew you would come."

She spotted me and smiled like a blooming flower—revealing to me that my action wasn't unexpected at all.

I looked up at the night sky in order to suppress my boiling emotions. A crescent moon grinned at me tonight.

"You're not fair."

"What do you mean?"

"What are you scheming?"

"That's not nice, you know? As a girl I am very frightened to walk alone at night, you know?"

"Then why didn't you have your mother pick you up, or ask someone else among the staff see you off, or contact the police?"

"As always, you seem to have no idea of how a girl's heart works. I wanted ''you'' to see me home."

She laughed as though she was humming and linked her arm in mine. ''"Shampoo?"'' I wondered silently as I could perceive a sweet fragrance of flowers from her.

"Let's go."

From my experiences so far I had learned that one couldn't get free so easily once Tsukimori had taken the lead, but it was also fact that I, only ''unwillingly'' accepting her lead, certainly had no submissive nature.

Therefore, the few meters during which my arm was pressed against her full bosom were the purest humiliation to me.

I was beyond hope, though, because for just a second I had thought that, while Youko Tsukimori herself may have been the most ill-natured woman on earth, her soft bosom was blameless.

"I won't run away, so please stop this," I begged her with a sigh mixed in, and finally shook her off.

"Too bad. And we had finally created such a nice mood."

Tsukimori was sullen, but her steps remained light.

While watching her black hair dance behind her, I let out a loud sigh.

It may go without saying, but ''my'' steps were heavy.

We got on a train heading out of the city and passed through four stations while getting a good shake. When we alighted at our destination, we were in a residential zone in the outskirts.

"I live over there. A few minutes' walk from here."

Tsukimori pointed at a hill. I saw immediately that we would have a hard time climbing, looking at all the slopes and stairs that could be seen there. The sight alone had me dispirited.

"Don't frown like that. Going out with me means coming up this way all the time, you know?"

"My sympathies to your boyfriend."

"Don't worry. You'll get used to it in no time."

Tsukimori walked off without caring about my sagging spirits. "Look, the stars are beautiful tonight," she said, sounding easy-going.

Since I didn't want to turn around after coming so far, I followed her reluctantly.

It was a tranquil residential area and rather "classy".

The streets were lit with comparatively short gaps, but it was still eerily dark around us. I had to admit that the shivering she had shown earlier might have been more than mere acting.

As expected, I was completely drained by the time we came to a stop. Tsukimori, accustomed as she was, showed no indication of strain, making her appear more irritating than ever to me.

"Here we are," proclaimed Tsukimori and stood before the entrance.

It was a large white building. The term "mansion" might be appropriate.

Since her father had been the head of a construction design company, it was a rather fancy design, constructed with tetrahedrons systematically put together, giving it an overall geometric feel. I would have nodded in comprehension if someone had told me it was the house of a physicist.

There was no light inside, so her mother was apparently absent.

While I was curiously looking up at the house, Tsukimori tugged at my sleeve.

"Now that you're here, why don't you come in?"

Her proposal was most suspicious and virtually crying out to be doubted.

I knew it would be a pain if anyone got wind of that visit. If, on top of that, the guys at school learned that no one else had been in the house at the time, the rumors that might emerge from it exceeded my imagination. Especially in Kamogawa's case... I didn't even want to think about it.

By now I was sure everything had been an act of hers to make me enter her house. It certainly rubbed me the wrong way if her plan succeeded.

"Good idea. I'm pretty thirsty; can I come in for a drink?"

Nonetheless, I accepted her offer because it was a very rare opportunity.

Though I had, as a matter of fact, ''suspended'' doubting her due to a lack of progress, I had by no means ''stopped''. The suspicion due to the murder recipe was still smoldering in my mind.

Originally I had expected that new progress would come from associating with her and learning more about her, but all my attempts had remained fruitless. The more I was in touch with her, the less I understood her true nature. I had no clue how to distinguish between her jokes and her serious statements. In other words, she was as slippery as an eel.

Hence, I had come to the conclusion that it might be better to approach her mother. From what I had seen of her at the funeral, she was not as complicated a person as Tsukimori. It shouldn't be necessary to probe Tsukimori herself to find out about her relationship to her father.

I followed Tsukimori into the house. Not a sound was to be heard inside.

While taking off my shoes at the entrance, I asked: "What time is your mother coming back?"

"Do you have a soft spot for older women?" teased Tsukimori with a laugh.

"At least more than for you," I answered—with an earnest face as a test.

"Now that's a shock, even if it is meant as a joke."

Tsukimori shook her head while taking out some slippers for us.

It seemed that I had taken the lead.

"My mother has gone out and will be back late. Today is your chance!"

"...just what sort of chance would that be, I wonder?"

I pushed her head away, since she had come closer to peek at my face.

And the lead went back to Tsukimori.

"I only wanted to introduce myself to her since I'm here."

"Oh, that pleases me to hear. Did you finally warm up to me?"

"I don't know how you took my words, but let me assure you that you're wrong."

I followed her into the living room.

"I'll bring something to drink. Make yourself comfortable on the sofa."

Tsukimori disappeared into the neighboring room, turning on the light there. Half of a well-equipped system kitchen entered my view.

I let my gaze sweep through the living room.

Like the outside, the residence of the Tsukimoris looked quite respectable from the inside: there was a leather sofa with an amber luster and a queerly shaped glass table which even an amateur could identify as a designer table. Furthermore, I found a terrifyingly large LCD TV and luxurious hi-fi equipment. The rumors were true: they were quite a wealthy family.

To my disappointment however, there was nothing special apart from that, like an object that would have served me as a clue for Tsukimori's relationship with her father.

Well, it was only natural that nothing too peculiar was placed in the living room where a lot of people went in and out. Unfortunately, though, I didn't have any pretext that would have allowed me to look through the other rooms, either. I couldn't help feeling that I had forfeited the rare chance of getting into her house.

I was still reeling in disappointment when Tsukimori came back with a tray of drinks.

"I hope you are fine with black tea?"

"Perfectly."

I intended to leave after emptying my cup. There was no use in staying for too long. However, Tsukimori had apparently read my intentions: "Make yourself at home! It's only Saturday tomorrow, so there's no need to hurry, right?"

"Are you out of your mind? I'm a man, you know?"

As if to make her the outlet of my letdown, my wording became a little harsh. I realized that I was acting pretty selfishly, since she wasn't to blame that I had set my own expectations too high.

"That only supports my argument! A boy should never leave an anxious girl behind alone."

"But this is your own home."

"Do you believe stalkers care about such obstacles?"

"How should I know how a stalker thinks? In the first place, that story sounds quite fishy to me anyway."

"Too bad," Tsukimori sighed slightly. "You sure don't let me have my way, Nonomiya-kun."

"That's my line. You lead me by the nose all the time!" I objected promptly. I was naturally unable to just accept it that my opponent forestalled me in saying what had constantly been on my mind.

A moment later, she whispered in a voice that was too loud to be a monologue: "...I wonder if I should consult Mirai-san about Nonomiya-kun..."

I almost spit out my black tea.

"...is that a threat?"

I stared with hostile eyes at Tsukimori.

"It's unavoidable. I simply wish to receive a piece of good advice from an older woman like Mirai-san. There's nothing strange about it, is there?"

Tsukimori covered half of her face under a cushion as if to block my gaze.

"Consulting Mirai-san about love problems is like asking the devil the way to heaven."

"That was a good one."

Tsukimori buried her nose in the cushion and giggled.

"It's no laughing matter. It's a most serious matter of life and death!"

I almost got a headache just by imagining a merry Mirai-san teasing me. I would surely have to say farewell to my busy yet peaceful work life, because she would be asking me about Tsukimori non-stop.

"I would not mind the colleagues at the café knowing about us. I don't like having secrets."

"''You'' don't mind."

Tsukimori may have been used to being the center of attention, but I was not. Just the thought of capturing everyone's attention gave me the shivers.

A comfortable role as a spectator suited me best. Everyone has his own qualities.

"To be frank, I would love to openly attempt winning you over."

"After all, you seem to be good at getting all the others on your side, right?" I said with a full load of sarcasm.

"An inborn virtue of mine?" countered Tsukimori without trouble.

"You don't say. You are a schemer, an actor and, if we get to the heart of it, just plain wicked. It's just that everyone is being deceived by your beautiful looks and doesn't notice your deadly thorns."

"You think I am beautiful? I am on cloud nine!"

"Where have the 'deadly thorns' gone?"

"Paying regard to things that aren't true goes against my principles."

Judging from her serious mien, she did not in the least mean to be joking. Most likely she was even scandalized, in fact.

But strangely enough, I also realized that a girl as "eye-catching" as her might actually need such nerves of steel.

"Would you like another cup?" smiled Tsukimori, ladylike and slightly inclining her head, with a porcelain tea pot in her hand.

"Please."

I held out my tea cup to her, waving the white flag in my mind.

I had chosen to watch her devilish scheme for a little longer.

Thirty minutes later.

"Your mother is pretty late," I addressed Tsukimori, who was sitting opposite of me.

"Yes, she said she would be."

"When is she going to be back then?"

"Hm... sometime around ten, I suppose?"

"That makes thirty minutes from now, huh."

I was starting to feel uncomfortable sharing the same time and room just by the two of us, but I was willing to bear up another half an hour and lay back in the sofa.

Tsukimori murmured, "Well, twenty-four hours from now, to be exact."

I bolted upright on the sofa and stared at her. She was leisurely browsing through a fashion magazine.

"What does that mean?"

"She has gone on a company outing and will be back tomorrow."

"—You deceived me?"

I was surprised myself by how deep my tone was.

"I honestly told you she would be late."

"How's that honest!? I'm leaving," I declared , stood up and headed towards the entrance. Most of the irritation was at myself for readily taking her bait.

Suddenly, something soft enveloped my arm. Tsukimori had clasped it.

"...please, don't leave me alone. I'm frightened!"

Her begging attitude and the soft touch against my arm made me falter.

The unusual fragility she was showing me was more than enough to activate my protective instinct—even if it was a deliberate action of hers to seduce me.

But my rationality cooled down the overwhelming reality and kept me from making a wrong decision.

"Your charm doesn't work on me! Besides, that's not fair. I never have accepted going out with you."

Two teenagers alone under one roof — an alluring setting. Being a boy in his teens myself, I was naturally interested in what would happen in such a situation, all the more if the girl in question was Youko Tsukimori.

"I don't mind if it's you."

As expected, she tried to capture me with inviting eyes and sweet words.

Had I met Youko Tsukimori under any other circumstances, I would have stood no chance against her seduction.

"I feel honored, but I have no such intentions!"

However, unlike that Nonomiya in the world of assumptions, the real one bore up against her. Because, much more than I was hoping for an alluring development, I was scared.

It was wariness that sustained my rationality.

What was Youko Tsukimori scheming?

It was then that I felt that I had caught a glimpse of the true intention behind her request to date her.

Perhaps, Tsukimori didn't have in mind to get rid of me, but to get me under her control?

She was well aware of her own attractiveness and knew how to use it effectively. I had been able to observe that fact more than enough lately. So, perhaps she was trying to make me her faithful puppet of sorts? She could be sure that I would not leak her secret in that case, couldn't she?

Of course, provided that she really had noticed that I knew of and had the murder recipe.

Either way, I had to get out of there as fast as possible. Even if my assumptions were true and confirmed by Tsukimori at that, it was only a matter of time until I would give in to her.

Because her words may have been lies, ''but her attractiveness was a fact''.

As things stood, I was going to fall victim to her venom. I knew for sure that as soon as that happened, the poison would spread slowly but surely and paralyze my will to resist.

I shook her off and hurried towards the entrance, but Tsukimori rushed after me in the same breath. This time she clung to me from behind, restraining me.

Her warmth, her softness, her entrancing fragrance blended into a charm deluding the senses and attacked me from behind.

"...It does not matter what you feel for me..."

Her soft breath touched the nape of my neck. I knew that I had to escape, but I couldn't move a muscle.

"...touch me... do whatever you want with me..."

Her delightful words entered my head through my eardrums and turned into paralyzing electrical signals flashing through my entire body. My poisoned legs had already lost the strength to resist a single high school girl.

[[Image:Gekkou-122.jpg|thumb]]

She gently pushed me into the sofa, leaning against me. The lamp behind Tsukimori created a mystic contrast on her face. She placed her head on my shoulder and put her hands lightly on my chest—as if to feel my heartbeat. Her white, slender neck was exposed to me right by my chin.

While I was still bereft of speech, she whispered into my ear, "Please. I want you to."

It sounded to me like a saint's enigmatic absolution.

A moment later, she nibbled the defenseless nape of my neck.

The soft sensation of her tender red lips caused my shoulders to jump. I had never experienced such an impulse before, it was similar to tickling but still different.

My body was about to run out of control. In an attempt to push her away, I slid my hands between us and thrust towards the ceiling. Unwilling to be separated, she resisted and twisted her body. My resisting hands merely brushed against her soft breasts, stroked her smooth sides and lost themselves in blank space.

At that moment, Tsukimori uttered a suppressed moan and writhed, still straddling me.

It was smashing. My rationality was entirely blown away by her unexpected sensitive reaction.

Letting my instincts take over, I swapped places and sat astride her. I laid one hand on the white nape of her neck and traced her lush red lips with my fingers. I inhaled her intensive flowery scent, kissed her collarbone and put my knee between her thighs.

She reacted exquisitely to each of my actions. I was aware that the blood circulating in my veins was enraptured by pleasure.

Right now———Youko Tsukimori was under my control.

That feeling of elation was far beyond normal. Even I, the cool thinker by principle, would have loved screaming as my feelings told me.

While frantically suppressing the urge to rush, I kept on caressing Tsukimori. I wanted the pleasure to hold on for as long as possible.

However, I was suddenly stricken by a shock that made my heart skip a beat. I had noticed her unusual reaction.

"—You're trembling."

Tsukimori blinked a few times with her eyes that in passion had lost focus.

"...I am?" she asked with gentle lip-movements, her voice full of heat.

She was unaware of it herself, but she was trembling all over.

Feelings of guilt that I had pushed aside as my rationality had gone out of the window suddenly sprung up in me like water.

"...we really shouldn't be doing this. Let's stop," I stated while raising my body.

Tsukimori's "tremor" appeared to me like "rejection".

I certainly didn't stop because I was a good person but, on the other hand, neither did I enjoy subjugating girls against their will for my own satisfaction.

I was frightened, plain and simple. Frightened of shouldering a sin against ''her'' that could not be amended.

She was still lying on the sofa, looking up at me with wondering eyes. Behind her rumpled uniform, I could see her bulging snow-white skin. I averted my gaze automatically.

"Why? Didn't I say it's fine?"

"But you are trembling."

"That's because of excitement!"

"I don't think so."

"It is!"

The next moment, Tsukimori said something I couldn't believe.

"It's my first time after all!"

"So I can't help it," she added.

No words.

I cast her off and stood up as if to retreat.

"Why?!" I shouted, channeling all my bewilderment into one word. That was the only thing I could do.

"Everyone has a first time," replied Tsukimori with girlishly pure eyes.

"But that's not how you go about it!"

"That's different for everyone."

"...do as you please as long as it's your own problem. But this time it's me that would have been your partner, you get that?"

"Yes, you are right, I don't know if I am able to satisfy you because it's my first time...," she worried.

She had to be joking.

"Ah, but I'm positive that I will develop excellent skills the more we do it. You know that I'm a fast learner, right? Be it at school or at work."

However, Tsukimori looked dead serious.

"That's not the problem!!"

When was the last time I had become that agitated? I couldn't remember. Thank you very much for this valuable experience, Tsukimori.

"Why are you always so... so reckless!"

"I am surprised myself."

"Don't act so unconcerned!"

"Someone once said that girls in love are invincible; there might be more truth to it than I thought. After all I do feel capable of anything right now," she nodded approvingly.

"Please, don't only think about yourself..." I let out a grand sigh. "In the first place, what happened to the rumors about you? Haven't you gone out with numerous boys so far?"

It's not like I believed her offhandedly.

A girl like Tsukimori should have had countless opportunities to lose "it" in her life. Wasn't she just playing with me?

"...I don't want to tell you," she averted her gaze to the side.

"You can't say that after dragging me in like that, can you? I have the right to know."

"I don't care."

"Don't be such a child."

"I bet you see me as some kind of slut!"

Tsukimori pursed her lips.

She was now sounding queerly like a precocious little girl. Where did the bewitching girl go that seduced me?

"Fine! I won't ask anymore if you don't want to tell me."

I thought there was no use questioning her in that thickheaded state.

"...Do you really want me to tell you?"

"...Which is it now!"

Good heavens. As always she was hard to read.

Tsukimori took a deep breath and made up her mind.

"I'll be honest. I have gone out with several boys until now."

"As I thought."

"Hey, that's not nice, you know. Let me assure you: I may have gone out with various boys, but not once have I given myself to anyone. I didn't even let them touch me like you have. Honestly."

"You want me to buy that?"

"They were all good and kind people and really loved me."

"...Good for you..."

"But every time something felt off. In some way I knew that none of them was my destined partner," she told me with slightly downcast eyes, wallowing in reminiscences.

"Then why me?"

"Because you seemed different from the others! In the beginning it was just a baseless intuition, of course. At first I wanted to go out with you without thinking too deeply, as I used to do with the other boys. Because getting someone to date me is simple."

"That sure doesn't sound like something someone my age would say. Come on, how old are you really?"

Tsukimori found my apathetic attitude funny, it seemed. She giggled with great amusement.

"But I had not dreamed that you would reject me."

"So sorry for not living up to your expectations."

"No, by no means! Thanks to that, I gained a sudden burst of enthusiasm. So the result is absolutely fine!"

"...That's how life goes, I guess. Never the way you want it to."

Tsukimori's triumphant joy had the opposite effect on my mood. She made me remember that whatever I did to her always ended up backfiring on me.

"Indeed... I wonder why things never work out the way you want them in life."

This time it was me who couldn't help laughing, seeing her say that with a solemn mien.

"If ''you'' of all people don't get your way, us commoners are stumped."

The worries of someone who had everything seemed incredibly ridiculous to me.

"You are all just overestimating me, really."

"But you deserve to be overestimated, from a neutral point of view."

"Why is it that I cannot make you mine, then?"

She squinted at my eyes as if to peek into my heart.

"...Who knows? It's a riddle even to me," I answered vaguely, looking away. For obvious reasons I could have never told her that it's because the murder recipe was on my mind.

"Meany."

"Call me whatever you like."

"But I like you anyway, Nonomiya-kun, even if you are cruel and mean to me," laughed Tsukimori while brushing her hair. It was a gorgeous demeanor. "How can I explain it...? It is just so enjoyable to talk with you."

She carefully chose her words, which made me realize that she was trying her utmost to convey her feelings precisely.

"You could say that we are... trying to outdo each other? Our conversation feel so exciting and enjoyable to me because they're unpredictable. I just can't talk enough with you."

Her words silenced me, and caused me to stare at her. I was struck by surprise that she was of the same mind as me.

Strong sympathy can change ridiculously easily into a sense of closeness.

Indeed, at that very instant, Youko Tsukimori became a special girl to me.

"When I imagined how stimulating every day would become if I went out with you, I realized that you had to be my destined partner. So I did not really need to hesitate. You are the one I deemed destined for me; I wanted you to have my first time."

To make matters worse, she looked even more attractive now that I had become conscious of her. I've heard subjectivity incorporates a function that applies a filter to the brain that makes you interpret things in your favor.

"I didn't know I was so bold."

"And I wish I didn't know that you were so sharp tongued."

I shrugged extensively for show. Of course, I was not at all composed. It was quite the contrary: I was disturbed. You could say that I had a hard time dealing with the radical change of my feelings.

I had previously regarded any situation objectively with the utmost effort in order to bear up against Tsukimori and her staggering presence. Otherwise I would have fallen victim to her charm like everyone else.

However, now that subjectivity had mixed into my view, I couldn't remain calm anymore. My awakened instincts told me to savor the defenseless fruit before my eyes.

"I'm leaving."

This time I seriously had to leave or I would end up loathing myself.

"Don't you want to check?"

I heard Tsukimori's voice behind me when I was walking towards the living room door.

"Check what?"

"—Whether it really would have been my first time or not."

I felt the urge to turn around, but I chose to remain on course.

She would have surely shown me a devilish smile that very much met my preference and ruined my newly gained determination.

"Please forget what happened today. I wasn't myself."

"I don't want to," she declared.

"It's in both our interests."

"It's a valuable memory of the 'destined partner' I finally found."

"I'm stunned that you can use that phrase so carelessly. Say that again in ten years."

"I am not using the word carelessly. Didn't you know that every girl is searching for her 'destined partner' from the moment she is born?"

"Well, my sympathies for all the trouble."

With that parting shot I opened the door. In that instant, I heard footsteps rushing towards me resounding on the flooring.

"Are you really leaving me?"

...No use using such lonely words.

"Of course."

"Even though I want you to stay so much?"

...No use using such pleading words.

"Well, ''I'' want to go home as fast as possible."

"You really are hard to deal with, Nonomiya-kun," she said, sighing.

I spontaneously turned around and glared at her. "You're the last person I want to hear that from!"

Tsukimori laughed heartily at seeing my unwilling attitude.

...Please, let me go already.

"Goodbye."

"Be seeing you."

Even though I intentionally stomped on the floor to express my bad temper, I happened to see her sad and weak wave goodbye. It would be a lie to say that I didn't feel anything while closing the front door.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Bitter Chocolate|Bitter Chocolate]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine|Orange & Wine]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare

2011-10-26T22:09:58Z

Andrewgr: "strictly" doesn't really make sense

==[Sweet Nightmare]==

At the staff room after closing time.

"I would like you to see me home," requested Tsukimori after changing into her school uniform.

"See you home...?" I repeated warily like a parrot.

"You see, I always feel someone's gaze on me on the way from the café to the train station..."

She gave a shiver.

"Aren't you just being paranoid?" I wanted to say at first, but I reconsidered because it was quite possible in her case. After all, she was no doubt eye-catching. Instead, I suggested, "Then you should consult the police rather than me."

"Weak, Nonomiya! That's weak! Come on, be a man and protect her!"

Mirai-san, who had apparently followed our exchange, thumped a table close to her. The staff nearby turned around, surprised, to see what was going on.

"I don't mean to brag, but I don't have confidence in my strength. Even if she gets attacked by a stalker, the best I can do is get beaten up myself."

"You aren't bragging at all! And if you're a man, you ought to bravely fight all the same, even if you have to put your neck on the line!"

"I'm under the impression that you would make a better bodyguard than me, Mirai-san."

"Moron! I'm a delicate young lady, you know? I also need to be protected."

I shrugged exaggeratedly and took a look at the faces of the rest of the staff. They could only answer my gaze with lopsided smiles because they feared her, but their real thoughts were bound to be the same as mine.

"Very funny, indeed."

"Heh, does your face look like you wanna complain? Nonomiya?"

Mirai-san drew closer with glaring eyes.

"Mirai-san, let it be. If Nonomiya-kun refuses so adamantly, there is nothing that can be done about it. I will try my best to get home alone...," Tsukimori sighed and plodded towards the entrance.

The very moment before she closed the door—

"..................haah..."

—She let out a deep sigh that resounded through the whole staffroom.

All gazes focused on me at once, each of which was reproachful. A close friend can become a close enemy, indeed.

"See her off, Nonomiya-kun," said the manager at last, siding with Tsukimori like the others.

Powered by this, the whole staff started criticizing me. I was attacked from all sides. Outnumbered. I was completely made out to be the bad guy.

"Fine, fine, I've got it already! I'll go see her home, okay?" I groaned and jumped out of the uncomfortable staffroom to run after Tsukimori.

To my surprise, I caught up with her immediately after leaving the café.

Tsukimori was leaning against a telephone pole in front of the shop, waiting below a street light like the queen of the night.

"I knew you would come."

She spotted me and smiled like a blooming flower—revealing to me that my action wasn't unexpected at all.

I looked up at the night sky in order to suppress my boiling emotions. A crescent moon grinned at me tonight.

"You're not fair."

"What do you mean?"

"What are you scheming?"

"That's not nice, you know? As a girl I am very frightened to walk alone at night, you know?"

"Then why didn't you have your mother pick you up, or ask someone else among the staff see you off, or contact the police?"

"As always, you seem to have no idea of how a girl's heart works. I wanted ''you'' to see me home."

She laughed as though she was humming and linked her arm in mine. ''"Shampoo?"'' I wondered silently as I could perceive a sweet fragrance of flowers from her.

"Let's go."

From my experiences so far I had learned that one couldn't get free so easily once Tsukimori had taken the lead, but it was also fact that I, only ''unwillingly'' accepting her lead, certainly had no submissive nature.

Therefore, the few meters during which my arm was pressed against her full bosom were the purest humiliation to me.

I was beyond hope, though, because for just a second I had thought that, while Youko Tsukimori herself may have been the most ill-natured woman on earth, her soft bosom was blameless.

"I won't run away, so please stop this," I begged her with a sigh mixed in, and finally shook her off.

"Too bad. And we had finally created such a nice mood."

Tsukimori was sullen, but her steps remained light.

While watching her black hair dance behind her, I let out a loud sigh.

It may go without saying, but ''my'' steps were heavy.

We got on a train heading out of the city and passed through four stations while getting a good shake. When we alighted at our destination, we were in a residential zone in the outskirts.

"I live over there. A few minutes' walk from here."

Tsukimori pointed at a hill. I saw immediately that we would have a hard time climbing, looking at all the slopes and stairs that could be seen there. The sight alone had me dispirited.

"Don't frown like that. Going out with me means coming this way up all the time, you know?"

"My sympathies to your boyfriend."

"Don't worry. You'll get used to it in no time."

Tsukimori walked off without caring about my sagging spirits. "Look, the stars are beautiful tonight," she said, sounding easy-going.

Since I didn't want to turn around after coming so far, I followed her reluctantly.

It was a tranquil residential area and rather "classy".

The streets were lit with comparatively short gaps, but it was still eerily dark around us. I had to admit that the shivering she had shown earlier might have been more than mere acting.

As expected, I was completely drained by the time we came to a stop. Tsukimori, accustomed as she was, showed no indication of strain, making her appear more irritating than ever to me.

"Here we are," proclaimed Tsukimori and stood before the entrance.

It was a large white building. The term "mansion" might be appropriate.

Since her father had been the head of a construction design company, it was a rather fancy design, constructed with tetrahedrons systematically put together, giving it an overall geometric feel. I would have nodded in comprehension if someone had told me it was the house of a physicist.

There was no light inside, so her mother was apparently absent.

While I was curiously looking up at the house, Tsukimori tugged at my sleeve.

"Now that you're here, why don't you come in?"

Her proposal was most suspicious and virtually crying out to be doubted.

I knew it would be a pain if anyone got wind of that visit. If, on top of that, the guys at school learned that no one else had been in the house at the time, the rumors that might emerge from it exceeded my imagination. Especially in Kamogawa's case... I didn't even want to think about it.

By now I was sure everything had been an act of hers to make me enter her house. It certainly rubbed me the wrong way if her plan succeeded.

"Good idea. I'm pretty thirsty; can I come in for a drink?"

Nonetheless, I accepted her offer because it was a very rare opportunity.

Though I had, as a matter of fact, ''suspended'' doubting her due to a lack of progress, I had by no means ''stopped''. The suspicion due to the murder recipe was still smoldering in my mind.

Originally I had expected that new progress would come from associating with her and learning more about her, but all my attempts had remained fruitless. The more I was in touch with her, the less I understood her true nature. I had no clue how to distinguish between her jokes and her serious statements. In other words, she was as slippery as an eel.

Hence, I had come to the conclusion that it might be better to approach her mother. From what I had seen of her at the funeral, she was not as complicated a person as Tsukimori. It shouldn't be necessary to probe Tsukimori herself to find out about her relationship to her father.

I followed Tsukimori into the house. Not a sound was to be heard inside.

While taking off my shoes at the entrance, I asked: "What time is your mother coming back?"

"Do you have a soft spot for older women?" teased Tsukimori with a laugh.

"At least more than for you," I answered—with an earnest face as a test.

"Now that's a shock, even if it is meant as a joke."

Tsukimori shook her head while taking out some slippers for us.

It seemed that I had taken the lead.

"My mother has gone out and will be back late. Today is your chance!"

"...just what sort of chance would that be, I wonder?"

I pushed her head away, since she had come closer to peek at my face.

And the lead went back to Tsukimori.

"I only wanted to introduce myself to her since I'm here."

"Oh, that pleases me to hear. Did you finally warm up to me?"

"I don't know how you took my words, but let me assure you that you're wrong."

I followed her into the living room.

"I'll bring something to drink. Make yourself comfortable on the sofa."

Tsukimori disappeared into the neighboring room, turning on the light there. Half of a well-equipped system kitchen entered my view.

I let my gaze sweep through the living room.

Like the outside, the residence of the Tsukimoris looked quite respectable from the inside: there was a leather sofa with an amber luster and a queerly shaped glass table which even an amateur could identify as a designer table. Furthermore, I found a terrifyingly large LCD TV and luxurious hi-fi equipment. The rumors were true: they were quite a wealthy family.

To my disappointment however, there was nothing special apart from that, like an object that would have served me as a clue for Tsukimori's relationship with her father.

Well, it was only natural that nothing too peculiar was placed in the living room where a lot of people went in and out. Unfortunately, though, I didn't have any pretext that would have allowed me to look through the other rooms, either. I couldn't help feeling that I had forfeited the rare chance of getting into her house.

I was still reeling in disappointment when Tsukimori came back with a tray of drinks.

"I hope you are fine with black tea?"

"Perfectly."

I intended to leave after emptying my cup. There was no use in staying for too long. However, Tsukimori had apparently read my intentions: "Make yourself at home! It's only Saturday tomorrow, so there's no need to hurry, right?"

"Are you out of your mind? I'm a man, you know?"

As if to make her the outlet of my letdown, my wording became a little harsh. I realized that I was acting pretty selfishly, since she wasn't to blame that I had set my own expectations too high.

"That only supports my argument! A boy should never leave an anxious girl behind alone."

"But this is your own home."

"Do you believe stalkers care about such obstacles?"

"How should I know how a stalker thinks? In the first place, that story sounds quite fishy to me anyway."

"Too bad," Tsukimori sighed slightly. "You sure don't let me have my way, Nonomiya-kun."

"That's my line. You lead me by the nose all the time!" I objected promptly. I was naturally unable to just accept it that my opponent forestalled me in saying what had constantly been on my mind.

A moment later, she whispered in a voice that was too loud to be a monologue: "...I wonder if I should consult Mirai-san about Nonomiya-kun..."

I almost spit out my black tea.

"...is that a threat?"

I stared with hostile eyes at Tsukimori.

"It's unavoidable. I simply wish to receive a piece of good advice from an older woman like Mirai-san. There's nothing strange about it, is there?"

Tsukimori covered half of her face under a cushion as if to block my gaze.

"Consulting Mirai-san about love problems is like asking the devil the way to heaven."

"That was a good one."

Tsukimori buried her nose in the cushion and giggled.

"It's no laughing matter. It's a most serious matter of life and death!"

I almost got a headache just by imagining a merry Mirai-san teasing me. I would surely have to say farewell to my busy yet peaceful work life, because she would be asking me about Tsukimori non-stop.

"I would not mind the colleagues at the café knowing about us. I don't like having secrets."

"''You'' don't mind."

Tsukimori may have been used to being the center of attention, but I was not. Just the thought of capturing everyone's attention gave me the shivers.

A comfortable role as a spectator suited me best. Everyone has his own qualities.

"To be frank, I would love to openly attempt winning you over."

"After all, you seem to be good at getting all the others on your side, right?" I said with a full load of sarcasm.

"An inborn virtue of mine?" countered Tsukimori without trouble.

"You don't say. You are a schemer, an actor and, if we get to the heart of it, just plain wicked. It's just that everyone is being deceived by your beautiful looks and doesn't notice your deadly thorns."

"You think I am beautiful? I am on cloud nine!"

"Where have the 'deadly thorns' gone?"

"Paying regard to things that aren't true goes against my principles."

Judging from her serious mien, she did not in the least mean to be joking. Most likely she was even scandalized, in fact.

But strangely enough, I also realized that a girl as "eye-catching" as her might actually need such nerves of steel.

"Would you like another cup?" smiled Tsukimori, ladylike and slightly inclining her head, with a porcelain tea pot in her hand.

"Please."

I held out my tea cup to her, waving the white flag in my mind.

I had chosen to watch her devilish scheme for a little longer.

Thirty minutes later.

"Your mother is pretty late," I addressed Tsukimori, who was sitting opposite of me.

"Yes, she said she would be."

"When is she going to be back then?"

"Hm... sometime around ten, I suppose?"

"That makes thirty minutes from now, huh."

I was starting to feel uncomfortable sharing the same time and room just by the two of us, but I was willing to bear up another half an hour and lay back in the sofa.

Tsukimori murmured, "Well, twenty-four hours from now, to be exact."

I bolted upright on the sofa and stared at her. She was leisurely browsing through a fashion magazine.

"What does that mean?"

"She has gone on a company outing and will be back tomorrow."

"—You deceived me?"

I was surprised myself by how deep my tone was.

"I honestly told you she would be late."

"How's that honest!? I'm leaving," I declared , stood up and headed towards the entrance. Most of the irritation was at myself for readily taking her bait.

Suddenly, something soft enveloped my arm. Tsukimori had clasped it.

"...please, don't leave me alone. I'm frightened!"

Her begging attitude and the soft touch against my arm made me falter.

The unusual fragility she was showing me was more than enough to activate my protective instinct—even if it was a deliberate action of hers to seduce me.

But my rationality cooled down the overwhelming reality and kept me from making a wrong decision.

"Your charm doesn't work on me! Besides, that's not fair. I never have accepted going out with you."

Two teenagers alone under one roof — an alluring setting. Being a boy in his teens myself, I was naturally interested in what would happen in such a situation, all the more if the girl in question was Youko Tsukimori.

"I don't mind if it's you."

As expected, she tried to capture me with inviting eyes and sweet words.

Had I met Youko Tsukimori under any other circumstances, I would have stood no chance against her seduction.

"I feel honored, but I have no such intentions!"

However, unlike that Nonomiya in the world of assumptions, the real one bore up against her. Because, much more than I was hoping for an alluring development, I was scared.

It was wariness that sustained my rationality.

What was Youko Tsukimori scheming?

It was then that I felt that I had caught a glimpse of the true intention behind her request to date her.

Perhaps, Tsukimori didn't have in mind to get rid of me, but to get me under her control?

She was well aware of her own attractiveness and knew how to use it effectively. I had been able to observe that fact more than enough lately. So, perhaps she was trying to make me her faithful puppet of sorts? She could be sure that I would not leak her secret in that case, couldn't she?

Of course, provided that she really had noticed that I knew of and had the murder recipe.

Either way, I had to get out of there as fast as possible. Even if my assumptions were true and confirmed by Tsukimori at that, it was only a matter of time until I would give in to her.

Because her words may have been lies, ''but her attractiveness was a fact''.

As things stood, I was going to fall victim to her venom. I knew for sure that as soon as that happened, the poison would spread slowly but surely and paralyze my will to resist.

I shook her off and hurried towards the entrance, but Tsukimori rushed after me in the same breath. This time she clung to me from behind, restraining me.

Her warmth, her softness, her entrancing fragrance blended into a charm deluding the senses and attacked me from behind.

"...It does not matter what you feel for me..."

Her soft breath touched the nape of my neck. I knew that I had to escape, but I couldn't move a muscle.

"...touch me... do whatever you want with me..."

Her delightful words entered my head through my eardrums and turned into paralyzing electrical signals flashing through my entire body. My poisoned legs had already lost the strength to resist a single high school girl.

[[Image:Gekkou-122.jpg|thumb]]

She gently pushed me into the sofa, leaning against me. The lamp behind Tsukimori created a mystic contrast on her face. She placed her head on my shoulder and put her hands lightly on my chest—as if to feel my heartbeat. Her white, slender neck was exposed to me right by my chin.

While I was still bereft of speech, she whispered into my ear, "Please. I want you to."

It sounded to me like a saint's enigmatic absolution.

A moment later, she nibbled the defenseless nape of my neck.

The soft sensation of her tender red lips caused my shoulders to jump. I had never experienced such an impulse before, it was similar to tickling but still different.

My body was about to run out of control. In an attempt to push her away, I slid my hands between us and thrust towards the ceiling. Unwilling to be separated, she resisted and twisted her body. My resisting hands merely brushed against her soft breasts, stroked her smooth sides and lost themselves in blank space.

At that moment, Tsukimori uttered a suppressed moan and writhed, still straddling me.

It was smashing. My rationality was entirely blown away by her unexpected sensitive reaction.

Letting my instincts take over, I swapped places and sat astride her. I laid one hand on the white nape of her neck and traced her lush red lips with my fingers. I inhaled her intensive flowery scent, kissed her collarbone and put my knee between her thighs.

She reacted exquisitely to each of my actions. I was aware that the blood circulating in my veins was enraptured by pleasure.

Right now———Youko Tsukimori was under my control.

That feeling of elation was far beyond normal. Even I, the cool thinker by principle, would have loved screaming as my feelings told me.

While frantically suppressing the urge to rush, I kept on caressing Tsukimori. I wanted the pleasure to hold on for as long as possible.

However, I was suddenly stricken by a shock that made my heart skip a beat. I had noticed her unusual reaction.

"—You're trembling."

Tsukimori blinked a few times with her eyes that in passion had lost focus.

"...I am?" she asked with gentle lip-movements, her voice full of heat.

She was unaware of it herself, but she was trembling all over.

Feelings of guilt that I had pushed aside as my rationality had gone out of the window suddenly sprung up in me like water.

"...we really shouldn't be doing this. Let's stop," I stated while raising my body.

Tsukimori's "tremor" appeared to me like "rejection".

I certainly didn't stop because I was a good person but, on the other hand, neither did I enjoy subjugating girls against their will for my own satisfaction.

I was frightened, plain and simple. Frightened of shouldering a sin against ''her'' that could not be amended.

She was still lying on the sofa, looking up at me with wondering eyes. Behind her rumpled uniform, I could see her bulging snow-white skin. I averted my gaze automatically.

"Why? Didn't I say it's fine?"

"But you are trembling."

"That's because of excitement!"

"I don't think so."

"It is!"

The next moment, Tsukimori said something I couldn't believe.

"It's my first time after all!"

"So I can't help it," she added.

No words.

I cast her off and stood up as if to retreat.

"Why?!" I shouted, channeling all my bewilderment into one word. That was the only thing I could do.

"Everyone has a first time," replied Tsukimori with girlishly pure eyes.

"But that's not how you go about it!"

"That's different for everyone."

"...do as you please as long as it's your own problem. But this time it's me that would have been your partner, you get that?"

"Yes, you are right, I don't know if I am able to satisfy you because it's my first time...," she worried.

She had to be joking.

"Ah, but I'm positive that I will develop excellent skills the more we do it. You know that I'm a fast learner, right? Be it at school or at work."

However, Tsukimori looked dead serious.

"That's not the problem!!"

When was the last time I had become that agitated? I couldn't remember. Thank you very much for this valuable experience, Tsukimori.

"Why are you always so... so reckless!"

"I am surprised myself."

"Don't act so unconcerned!"

"Someone once said that girls in love are invincible; there might be more truth to it than I thought. After all I do feel capable of anything right now," she nodded approvingly.

"Please, don't only think about yourself..." I let out a grand sigh. "In the first place, what happened to the rumors about you? Haven't you gone out with numerous boys so far?"

It's not like I believed her offhandedly.

A girl like Tsukimori should have had countless opportunities to lose "it" in her life. Wasn't she just playing with me?

"...I don't want to tell you," she averted her gaze to the side.

"You can't say that after dragging me in like that, can you? I have the right to know."

"I don't care."

"Don't be such a child."

"I bet you see me as some kind of slut!"

Tsukimori pursed her lips.

She was now sounding queerly like a precocious little girl. Where did the bewitching girl go that seduced me?

"Fine! I won't ask anymore if you don't want to tell me."

I thought there was no use questioning her in that thickheaded state.

"...Do you really want me to tell you?"

"...Which is it now!"

Good heavens. As always she was hard to read.

Tsukimori took a deep breath and made up her mind.

"I'll be honest. I have gone out with several boys until now."

"As I thought."

"Hey, that's not nice, you know. Let me assure you: I may have gone out with various boys, but not once have I given myself to anyone. I didn't even let them touch me like you have. Honestly."

"You want me to buy that?"

"They were all good and kind people and really loved me."

"...Good for you..."

"But every time something felt off. In some way I knew that none of them was my destined partner," she told me with slightly downcast eyes, wallowing in reminiscences.

"Then why me?"

"Because you seemed different from the others! In the beginning it was just a baseless intuition, of course. At first I wanted to go out with you without thinking too deeply, as I used to do with the other boys. Because getting someone to date me is simple."

"That sure doesn't sound like something someone my age would say. Come on, how old are you really?"

Tsukimori found my apathetic attitude funny, it seemed. She giggled with great amusement.

"But I had not dreamed that you would reject me."

"So sorry for not living up to your expectations."

"No, by no means! Thanks to that, I gained a sudden burst of enthusiasm. So the result is absolutely fine!"

"...That's how life goes, I guess. Never the way you want it to."

Tsukimori's triumphant joy had the opposite effect on my mood. She made me remember that whatever I did to her always ended up backfiring on me.

"Indeed... I wonder why things never work out the way you want them in life."

This time it was me who couldn't help laughing, seeing her say that with a solemn mien.

"If ''you'' of all people don't get your way, us commoners are stumped."

The worries of someone who had everything seemed incredibly ridiculous to me.

"You are all just overestimating me, really."

"But you deserve to be overestimated, from a neutral point of view."

"Why is it that I cannot make you mine, then?"

She squinted at my eyes as if to peek into my heart.

"...Who knows? It's a riddle even to me," I answered vaguely, looking away. For obvious reasons I could have never told her that it's because the murder recipe was on my mind.

"Meany."

"Call me whatever you like."

"But I like you anyway, Nonomiya-kun, even if you are cruel and mean to me," laughed Tsukimori while brushing her hair. It was a gorgeous demeanor. "How can I explain it...? It is just so enjoyable to talk with you."

She carefully chose her words, which made me realize that she was trying her utmost to convey her feelings precisely.

"You could say that we are... trying to outdo each other? Our conversation feel so exciting and enjoyable to me because they're unpredictable. I just can't talk enough with you."

Her words silenced me, and caused me to stare at her. I was struck by surprise that she was of the same mind as me.

Strong sympathy can change ridiculously easily into a sense of closeness.

Indeed, at that very instant, Youko Tsukimori became a special girl to me.

"When I imagined how stimulating every day would become if I went out with you, I realized that you had to be my destined partner. So I did not really need to hesitate. You are the one I deemed destined for me; I wanted you to have my first time."

To make matters worse, she looked even more attractive now that I had become conscious of her. I've heard subjectivity incorporates a function that applies a filter to the brain that makes you interpret things in your favor.

"I didn't know I was so bold."

"And I wish I didn't know that you were so sharp tongued."

I shrugged extensively for show. Of course, I was not at all composed. It was quite the contrary: I was disturbed. You could say that I had a hard time dealing with the radical change of my feelings.

I had previously regarded any situation objectively with the utmost effort in order to bear up against Tsukimori and her staggering presence. Otherwise I would have fallen victim to her charm like everyone else.

However, now that subjectivity had mixed into my view, I couldn't remain calm anymore. My awakened instincts told me to savor the defenseless fruit before my eyes.

"I'm leaving."

This time I seriously had to leave or I would end up loathing myself.

"Don't you want to check?"

I heard Tsukimori's voice behind me when I was walking towards the living room door.

"Check what?"

"—Whether it really would have been my first time or not."

I felt the urge to turn around, but I chose to remain on course.

She would have surely shown me a devilish smile that very much met my preference and ruined my newly gained determination.

"Please forget what happened today. I wasn't myself."

"I don't want to," she declared.

"It's in both our interests."

"It's a valuable memory of the 'destined partner' I finally found."

"I'm stunned that you can use that phrase so carelessly. Say that again in ten years."

"I am not using the word carelessly. Didn't you know that every girl is searching for her 'destined partner' from the moment she is born?"

"Well, my sympathies for all the trouble."

With that parting shot I opened the door. In that instant, I heard footsteps rushing towards me resounding on the flooring.

"Are you really leaving me?"

...No use using such lonely words.

"Of course."

"Even though I want you to stay so much?"

...No use using such pleading words.

"Well, ''I'' want to go home as fast as possible."

"You really are hard to deal with, Nonomiya-kun," she said, sighing.

I spontaneously turned around and glared at her. "You're the last person I want to hear that from!"

Tsukimori laughed heartily at seeing my unwilling attitude.

...Please, let me go already.

"Goodbye."

"Be seeing you."

Even though I intentionally stomped on the floor to express my bad temper, I happened to see her sad and weak wave goodbye. It would be a lie to say that I didn't feel anything while closing the front door.

<noinclude>
{{Template:Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Bitter Chocolate|Bitter Chocolate]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Orange & Wine|Orange & Wine]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Bitter Chocolate

2011-10-26T22:07:51Z

Andrewgr: corrected awkward/unclear phrasing

==[Bitter Chocolate]==

I had to admit it: Youko Tsukimori was indeed a perfect girl.

It was naturally me who was assigned to mentor her, being in the same class and all. At first I was rather sour about that cumbersome task, but I soon learned that it's quite enjoyable to teach someone who's good at remembering things.

Only two weeks had passed since Tsukimori had started working at Victoria, but she was already able to do any work related to waiting the tables on her own, such as attending to the customers, taking their orders and operating the register.

In terms of handling the customers, she might have even surpassed anyone else in this café. Furthermore, thanks to the customers who would visit only to enjoy her in a waitress uniform, sales were on the rise, too.

The manager and the other employees were quite impressed with her abilities, while it was no surprise to me since I knew her from school.

What was a surprise, however, was that Tsukimori and Mirai-san were on very good terms. I would have been able to understand it if they had been like cat and dog, but in truth you could even say that they turned out to be a good match.

"I was convinced you wouldn't like her type of person," I addressed Mirai-san.

"It's the opposite. Women like Youko can't stand me."

Mirai-san flashed the kind of smile you would expect of the leader of some wicked organization that schemes to conquer the world.

"Why is that?"

"Conjurers don't like audience that sees through their tricks. And you see, the tricks of those women don't work on me." Indeed, Mirai-san's intuition was queerly sharp. "There's this gal in university who's quite popular with the guys because of such tricks. Well, once I was kinda pissed off by her attitude—okay, my mood had hit the rocks during that period in general—but anyway, I cut her down to size in front of all the others. And when I was finished with her, she wept and wept... such a pain."

"My condolences."

"Right? She always runs away right when she spots me ever since. As if ''I'' was the bad one!"

Mirai-san seemed pleased about having my assent, but my condolences naturally belonged to the poor young woman who had made Mirai-san her enemy.

"But Youko's nothing like that. She seems to be unfeigned, without any tricks or pretenses."

Mirai-san turned her gaze towards the tables where Tsukimori was serving the customers.

"I was keen to blow her cover, but no matter how fiercely I observe her, she shows no openings. Heh, at first I was excited about the arrival of a powerful opponent and was like, 'Don't think you can deceive me forever!', but—"

Mirai-san made a short pause to sneer.

"—Lately, I've come to think that this is how Youko really is."

I followed her gaze to Tsukimori.

Indeed, she was always dignified, so I couldn't even imagine her whining. Even with this cross-grained personality of mine, I considered that gleam of hers pure and not some trick.

She had even managed to tame the "beast". No wonder that the "humans" around her would be captivated by her.

"What I like most about her is definitely that she isn't scared of me," said Mirai-san, who then turned around to the kitchen and suddenly shouted: "SARUWATARI!"

"Y-Yes, ma'am!"

"Do your work properly!"

"I...I will! I will do it so properly!" cried Saruwatari-san, and moved even faster than before.

"See? Any other guy's like that, right?" 

"Are you a devil?"

"You moron! It may not look like it, but Saruwari actually has a crush on me, you know?" Mirai-san tapped my forehead with her index finger. "Though I just don't have a thing for such timid guys."

"You ''are'' a devil."

I was speechless, only rubbing my forehead.

"Anyway, the point is I like her. Even if it's just some faked mask. It's my loss!"

"Is it as simple as that?"

"It is. However vicious Youko may turn out to be, I won't be able to dislike her so easily anymore. It's the same as my fondness of chocolate, which I can't stop though everyone babbles that eating too much isn't good for my health."

The self-proclaimed chocolate addict Mirai-san sat down on an edge of the counter, took a block chocolate out of her pocket and threw it in the air just to catch it with her healthily red tongue.

"My, that is bad manners Mirai-san! Don't always try to snack on chocolate when the shop manager is not watching. He told me that certain story about you, you know? Once, you collapsed because you wouldn't eat anything but chocolate," scolded Tsukimori, who had come over to forward an order, with the attitude of a class officer towards a delinquent.

"Speak of the devil!" countered Mirai-san in a daunting tone that sounded like nothing but a perfect example of delinquency.

"You were talking about me? Not badly I hope, ''right''?"

"Why, of course not. We were praising you, Youko."

"Very well, I will take your word for it this time."

In contrast to what they said, they both seemed to enjoy talking to each other.

"You like me, don't you?" asked Mirai-san out of the blue.

"Yes, I do," replied Tsukimori in a split second with a giggle. "You also like me, right?"

"Without saying." Another immediate reply. They looked almost like old friends. "See? That's what I was getting at."

"I see."

There were still some points that didn't make much sense to me, but I understood roughly what she wanted to say.

"—You really resemble each other in a way, huh," murmured Tsukimori suddenly.

Mirai-san and I looked at each other.

"Such an uncharming guy and I?"

"I'm not ''that'' frank, you know?"

Our denials were in sync.

"You don't flatter anyone, you don't go with the flow. 'You have your way', so to speak. I am actually quite jealous of that character trait of yours."

I paused for a moment before answering her, "Mirai-san is holier-than-thou to the core, while I simply take to going at my own pace. Unlike her, I am able to adapt and gladly follow superiors if necessary."

"I am always honest and not scheming like you," objected Mirai-san sharply.

"You ought to realize that sometimes the truth can hurt others more than a lie."

"You really are a cheeky fellow without any charm, Nonomiya."

"I don't need that from an indelicate bully like you!"

I sneered, whereupon Mirai-san stood up with glaring eyes.

"All right, Nonomiya!! You just overstepped your bounds! Let's take this outside! I'll bend that warped nature of yours into shape with my fists!"

Tsukimori, who had been watching us, suddenly started to giggle.

"You are like siblings."

"—Nonomiya, my brother?"

She let go of my collar and evaluated me from tip to toe with her gaze.

"Sis," I tried teasing her. To me it sounded like nothing but a Yakuza's way of addressing his female superior.

".........what a nightmare."

Whether it was because Tsukimori had spoiled her appetite for argument or because she was disgusted with the way I had called her, Mirai-san disappeared into the kitchen, holding her head.

"She may not look like it, but Mirai-san likes you, Nonomiya-kun," whispered Tsukimori. "I think she was actually fairly pleased that you called her 'sister'. I am sure she only escaped because she was embarrassed."

I gazed at her.

"What's the matter? Why that wondering face?"

"Even though you have spent much less time with Mirai-san than me, you seem to understand her pretty well."

"I have an eye for people. I knew we would get along well at first glance," Tsukimori told me, seeming very pleased with the compliment I had given her.

"But your eye for men needs some serious polishing."

Apparently, her mood ''was'' good; all I got in return for my cynical remark was a sugar-sweet smile.

"I really don't think so? You will surely become my dear life partner."

She skillfully put a cup of coffee onto the tray and headed with light steps towards a table.

I didn't intend to go along with her plans, so it was safe to assume that she had no foundation; but upon seeing her self-confident smile, I couldn't help but think that her words would come true.

Still, I had no plans of trusting her off-handedly like Mirai-san.

She wouldn't have stopped doubting Tsukimori so easily either, if she were in my position.

Because I knew about the murder recipe.

After Tsukimori started working at Victoria, Usami also became a frequent sight in the shop.

With her being very communicative, it didn't take long until she was well-liked by both the staff and the manager, and by now she was a proper regular. Thanks to that I was permanently on tenterhooks, afraid that Mister Kujirai might offer her a position.

"Hey, Nonomiya, Nonomiya, listen!"

Since she usually came after her club activities, she mostly arrived just before evening when the number of customers started to drop. She would then happily tell us about "that day's events".

"I was selected as a regular player for the next match!"

"Congratulations. Let me treat you to a drink to mark the occasion."

"Yay!" she shouted out so vigorously she almost jumped to her feet. "Um, in that case... can I ask for one more thing?"

She suddenly got flustered and peeked up at me with embarrassment. Her big, round eyes reminded me of a pygmy marmoset.

"If it's within my power."

"Can I take a photo of you?"

"Why? We see each other almost everyday. There's no point in specially taking a photo, is there?"

"Yes, there is! I want you in your garçon outfit!"

"I see." I pretended to ponder about it. "No."

"Why not! There should be no prob with it! It won't hurt!"

It was so amusing when she became angry and acted like a willful child.

"I'm not very fond of photographs and the like."

That was no lie. I meant it.

"But your garçon look has rarity value; it would be a shame, I tell you! Come on, just one!" she passionately tried to persuade me.

"Well, since you've finally become a regular player and want it so much—"

"Eh? You'll let me?"

Usami's eyes sparkled with expectations.

"—I'll refuse."

Which I gladly belied.

"EEH?! Why?!"

"Because I don't want to have my soul sucked out."

"That's a silly superstition!"

Teasing Usami was a life task of sorts for me. Because watching her reactions was like getting the crisp and shrill sound of a bell, I couldn't stop being mean to her.

"Geez! You miser!"

"Say what you want but my answer remains 'no'."

"I'll just take one secretly then..."

"As you just told the person in question, it's not going to be secretly at all."

"Take that!"

Usami adopted drastic measures: she pointed her mobile phone at me and tried to shoot. I instantaneously turned from her.

"Aaah! W-Why did you turn around?!"

"Taking photographs is prohibited in this establishment. If you do not abide by this rule, I will have to request that you leave," I explained in an official-sounding tone, whereupon Usami puffed up her cheeks and stowed her phone away into her bag, but not without hissing: "Miser!"

Accidentally a laugh escaped my lips.

"Cheer up, Usami. I can't consent to the photograph, but I'll treat you to dessert instead."

Her sour look moved me and made me want to spoil her. That's another form of carrot and stick, I guess.

"...an ice chocolate and a mango tart."

"Certainly," I answered her with the best smile I could produce and headed towards the kitchen to forward the order.

I couldn't keep my expression from loosening, which was only reasonable. Usami's straightforward reactions had a sort of stress-alleviating effect on me—probably because I had to deal with peculiar, to say the least, persons during my usual day.

"You're like a child that's playing with its favorite toy." With her chin propped up on her hand, Mirai-san grinned lopsidedly.

"Why, I would never think of her as a toy!" I answered while arranging the bills after I had communicated the order to Saruwatari-san.

Naturally, Mirai-san with her sharp wits had already noticed that I was fond of Usami. I didn't mean to hide it anyway.

"But I would love to have a pet like her at home."

In my mind I pictured a pygmy marmoset trying its best to munch on a mango that was as large as itself.

"No big difference."

"At any rate, it's true that I'm quite fond of her."

"How rare for you to admit something that easily." Mirai-san stared at me, surprised.

"It all depends on who it is about! Her straightforwardness causes me to be honest as well."

"Heh, great! Make her your girlfriend and have her fix that twisted personality of yours!"

Mirai-san laughed out loud, bending forward.

"That twisted personality you mention all the time would surely be twisted even more if ''you'' were my girlfriend," I thought without actually saying it.

"—That sounds quite realistic to me." Before I knew it, Tsukimori was standing next to me. "As far as I see, Chizuru is interested in you, too, Nonomiya-kun," said Tsukimori with that mature smile she was so good at.

"Oh? So she's not averse, either? I didn't know Nonomiya was such a lady-killer."

Mirai-san gazed curiously at Tsukimori. In my gaze, however, was nothing but suspicion.

What was she scheming?

Unlike Mirai-san, who didn't know that Tsukimori had asked me to go out with her, I completely failed to understand why she would encourage a relationship with Usami.

"Why don't you just go for her?" Mirai-san didn't miss out on that delicious chance.

"It's not my place to decide on that. Or am I just ignorant and love involves only one person?"

"Hey, didn't Youko just say that your chances are good?"

My snappish words made Mirai-san frown.

"You're no better, either, Tsukimori. I don't appreciate that you're trying to spur us on without reason. Careless remarks like these are rude towards both Usami and me."

I realized that I was irritated. Not angered, but irritated. Not like fire, but like "smoldering embers".

"You are right, Nonomiya-kun. I wasn't supposed to say that. I am sorry."

Tsukimori readily admitted her mistake and bowed in apology.

"Er, yeah, sorry. I didn't expect you to be that serious about it," Mirai-san awkwardly scratched her head, following Tsukimori's example.

"...no, it's up to me to apologize. It's just that I'm not used to such talk."

I showed them some kind of self-deprecation, which was the best I could do to varnish over my irritation.

Unable to keep the conversation going, we shared a few seconds of silence.

Then Mirai-san lost interest and disappeared into the kitchen, seeking an outlet for her vexation: "Saruwatarii!!"

Tsukimori, however, had turned away from me and was standing still—an indecisive attitude that didn't match the image I had of her.

On my part, I was still uncomfortable, sensing a bitter aftertaste on my tongue even now that the conversation was over.

It wasn't irritation that originated from the earnestness towards Usami that Mirai-san had mentioned.

Sure enough, a part of me disliked it when people rashly meddled in others' love affairs. However, such situations were common and nowhere near rare, and I would have been able to dodge or adapt respectively, hiding my feelings as I used to do so unhesitatingly until now.

Just now, however, I had disgraced myself by exposing my feelings, which was not like me at all. It was probably the first time I had ever had such an experience.

Why was I so irritated? It was a nasty feeling; while I knew that it was there, I didn't know what the cause was.

At that moment, I heard a murmur.

"...I am sorry," whispered Tsukimori with a tiny, sore voice that was easily drowned out by the ado in the shop. I could not see her face as her back was still facing me, but I somehow sensed that her words weren't an "apology" but rather "remorse".

I never would have thought that Tsukimori regretted her words that much. Concurrently to surprise, I also experienced a strong feeling of pacification.

I had found the cause for my irritation. I still did not clearly know why, but it seemed like the cause was Tsukimori.

Why was I irritated by her?

Another question arose.

I chose to do a reset of my feelings and bring Usami her order because I thought I would only waste time if I got lost in a labyrinth of thoughts.

However, there was one discovery I had made: a new kind of emotion towards Tsukimori was about to be born.

I didn't know the name of that emotion yet, though.

<noinclude>
{{Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 In The Café|In The Café]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Bitter Chocolate

2011-10-26T22:06:12Z

Andrewgr: make tense consistent

==[Bitter Chocolate]==

I had to admit it: Youko Tsukimori was indeed a perfect girl.

It was naturally me who was assigned to mentor her, being in the same class and all. At first I was rather sour about that cumbersome task, but I soon learned that it's quite enjoyable to teach someone who's good at remembering things.

Only two weeks had passed since Tsukimori had started working at Victoria, but she was already able to do any work related to waiting the tables on her own, such as attending to the customers, taking their orders and operating the register.

In terms of handling the customers, she might have even surpassed anyone else in this café. Furthermore, thanks to the customers who would visit only to enjoy her in a waitress uniform, sales were on the rise, too.

The manager and the other employees were quite impressed with her abilities, while it was no surprise to me since I knew her from school.

What was a surprise, however, was that Tsukimori and Mirai-san were on very good terms. I would have been able to understand it if they had been like cat and dog, but in truth you could even say that they turned out to be a good match.

"I was convinced you wouldn't like her type of person," I addressed Mirai-san.

"It's the opposite. Women like Youko can't stand me."

Mirai-san flashed the kind of smile you would expect of the leader of some wicked organization that schemes to conquer the world.

"Why is that?"

"Conjurers don't like audience that sees through their tricks. And you see, the tricks of those women don't work on me." Indeed, Mirai-san's intuition was queerly sharp. "There's this gal in university who's quite popular with the guys because of such tricks. Well, once I was kinda pissed off by her attitude—okay, my mood had hit the rocks during that period in general—but anyway, I cut her down to size in front of all the others. And when I was finished with her, she wept and wept... such a pain."

"My condolences."

"Right? She always runs away right when she spots me ever since. As if ''I'' was the bad one!"

Mirai-san seemed pleased about having my assent, but my condolences naturally belonged to the poor young woman who had made Mirai-san her enemy.

"But Youko's nothing like that. She seems to be unfeigned, without any tricks or pretenses."

Mirai-san turned her gaze towards the tables where Tsukimori was serving the customers.

"I was keen to blow her cover, but no matter how fiercely I observe her, she shows no openings. Heh, at first I was excited about the arrival of a powerful opponent and was like, 'Don't think you can deceive me forever!', but—"

Mirai-san made a short pause to sneer.

"—Lately, I've come to think that this is how Youko really is."

I followed her gaze to Tsukimori.

Indeed, she was always dignified, so I couldn't even imagine her whining. Even with this cross-grained personality of mine, I considered that gleam of hers pure and not some trick.

She had even managed to tame the "beast". No wonder that the "humans" around her would be captivated by her.

"What I like most about her is definitely that she isn't scared of me," said Mirai-san, who then turned around to the kitchen and suddenly shouted: "SARUWATARI!"

"Y-Yes, ma'am!"

"Do your work properly!"

"I...I will! I will do it so properly!" cried Saruwatari-san, and moved even faster than before.

"See? Any other guy's like that, right?" 

"Are you a devil?"

"You moron! It may not look like it, but Saruwari actually has a crush on me, you know?" Mirai-san tapped my forehead with her index finger. "Though I just don't have a thing for such timid guys."

"You ''are'' a devil."

I was speechless, only rubbing my forehead.

"Anyway, the point is I like her. Even if it's just some faked mask. It's my loss!"

"Is it as simple as that?"

"It is. However vicious Youko may turn out to be, I won't be able to dislike her so easily anymore. It's the same as my fondness of chocolate, which I can't stop though everyone babbles that eating too much isn't good for my health."

The self-proclaimed chocolate addict Mirai-san sat down on an edge of the counter, took a block chocolate out of her pocket and threw it in the air just to catch it with her healthily red tongue.

"My, that is bad manners Mirai-san! Don't always try to snack on chocolate when the shop manager is not watching. He told me that certain story about you, you know? Once, you collapsed because you wouldn't eat anything but chocolate," scolded Tsukimori, who had come over to forward an order, with the attitude of a class officer towards a delinquent.

"Speak of the devil!" countered Mirai-san in a daunting tone that sounded like nothing but a perfect example of delinquency.

"You were talking about me? Not badly I hope, ''right''?"

"Why, of course not. We were praising you, Youko."

"Very well, I will take your word for it this time."

In contrast to what they said, they both seemed to enjoy talking to each other.

"You like me, don't you?" asked Mirai-san out of the blue.

"Yes, I do," replied Tsukimori in a split second with a giggle. "You also like me, right?"

"Without saying." Another immediate reply. They looked almost like old friends. "See? That's what I was getting at."

"I see."

There were still some points that didn't make much sense to me, but I understood roughly what she wanted to say.

"—You really resemble each other in a way, huh," murmured Tsukimori suddenly.

Mirai-san and I looked at each other.

"Such an uncharming guy and I?"

"I'm not ''that'' frank, you know?"

Our denials were in sync.

"You don't flatter anyone, you don't go with the flow. 'You have your way', so to speak. I am actually quite jealous of that character trait of yours."

I paused for a moment before answering her, "Mirai-san is holier-than-thou to the core, while I simply take to going at my own pace. Unlike her, I am able to adapt and gladly follow superiors if necessary."

"I am always honest and not scheming like you," objected Mirai-san sharply.

"You ought to realize that sometimes the truth can hurt others more than a lie."

"You really are a cheeky fellow without any charm, Nonomiya."

"I don't need that from an indelicate bully like you!"

I sneered, whereupon Mirai-san stood up with glaring eyes.

"All right, Nonomiya!! You just overstepped your bounds! Let's take this outside! I'll bend that warped nature of yours into shape with my fists!"

Tsukimori, who had been watching us, suddenly started to giggle.

"You are like siblings."

"—Nonomiya, my brother?"

She let go of my collar and evaluated me from tip to toe with her gaze.

"Sis," I tried teasing her. To me it sounded like nothing but a Yakuza's way of addressing his female superior.

".........what a nightmare."

Whether it was because Tsukimori had spoiled her appetite for argument or because she was disgusted with the way I had called her, Mirai-san disappeared into the kitchen, holding her head.

"She may not look like it, but Mirai-san likes you, Nonomiya-kun," whispered Tsukimori. "I think she was actually fairly pleased that you called her 'sister'. I am sure she only escaped because she was embarrassed."

I gazed at her.

"What's the matter? Why that wondering face?"

"Even though you have spent much less time with Mirai-san than me, you seem to understand her pretty well."

"I have an eye for people. I knew we would get along well at first glance," Tsukimori told me, seeming very pleased with the compliment I had given her.

"But your eye for men needs some serious polishing."

Apparently, her mood ''was'' good; all I got in return for my cynical remark was a sugar-sweet smile.

"I really don't think so? You will surely become my dear life partner."

She skillfully put a cup of coffee onto the tray and headed with light steps towards a table.

I didn't intend to go along with her plans, so it was safe to assume that she had no foundation; but upon seeing her self-confident smile, I couldn't help but think that her words would come true.

Still, I had no plans of trusting her off-handedly like Mirai-san.

She wouldn't have stopped doubting Tsukimori so easily either, if she were in my position.

Because I knew about the murder recipe.

After Tsukimori started working at Victoria, Usami also became a frequent sight in the shop.

With her being very communicative, it didn't take long until she was well-liked by both the staff and the manager, and by now she was a proper regular. Thanks to that I was permanently on tenterhooks, afraid that Mister Kujirai might offer her a position.

"Hey, Nonomiya, Nonomiya, listen!"

Since she usually came after her club activities, she mostly arrived just before evening when the number of customers started to drop. She would then happily tell us about "that day's events".

"I was selected as a regular player for the next match!"

"Congratulations. Let me treat you to a drink to mark the occasion."

"Yay!" she shouted out so vigorously she almost jumped to her feet. "Um, in that case... can I ask for one more thing?"

She suddenly got flustered and peeked up at me with embarrassment. Her big, round eyes reminded me of a pygmy marmoset.

"If it's within my power."

"Can I take a photo of you?"

"Why? We see each other almost everyday. There's no point in specially taking a photo, is there?"

"Yes, there is! I want you in your garçon outfit!"

"I see." I pretended to ponder about it. "No."

"Why not! There should be no prob with it! It won't hurt!"

It was so amusing when she became angry and acted like a willful child.

"I'm not very fond of photographs and the like."

That was no lie. I meant it.

"But your garçon look has rarity value; it would be a shame, I tell you! Come on, just one!" she passionately tried to persuade me.

"Well, since you've finally become a regular player and want it so much—"

"Eh? You'll let me?"

Usami's eyes sparkled with expectations.

"—I'll refuse."

Which I gladly belied.

"EEH?! Why?!"

"Because I don't want to have my soul sucked out."

"That's a silly superstition!"

Teasing Usami was a life task of sorts for me. Because watching her reactions was like getting the crisp and shrill sound of a bell, I couldn't stop being mean to her.

"Geez! You miser!"

"Say what you want but my answer remains 'no'."

"I'll just take one secretly then..."

"As you just told the person in question, it's not going to be secretly at all."

"Take that!"

Usami adopted drastic measures: she pointed her mobile phone at me and tried to shoot. I instantaneously turned from her.

"Aaah! W-Why did you turn around?!"

"Taking photographs is prohibited in this establishment. If you do not abide by this rule, I will have to request that you leave," I explained in an official-sounding tone, whereupon Usami puffed up her cheeks and stowed her phone away into her bag, but not without hissing: "Miser!"

Accidentally a laugh escaped my lips.

"Cheer up, Usami. I can't consent to the photograph, but I'll treat you to dessert instead."

Her sour look moved me and made me want to spoil her. That's another form of carrot and stick, I guess.

"...an ice chocolate and a mango tart."

"Certainly," I answered her with the best smile I could produce and headed towards the kitchen to forward the order.

I couldn't keep my expression from loosening, which was only reasonable. Usami's straightforward reactions had a sort of stress-alleviating effect on me—probably because I had to deal with peculiar, to say the least, persons during my usual day.

"You're like a child that's playing with its favorite toy." With her chin propped up on her hand, Mirai-san grinned lopsidedly.

"Why, I would never think of her as a toy!" I answered while arranging the bills after I had communicated the order to Saruwatari-san.

Naturally, Mirai-san with her sharp wits had already noticed that I was fond of Usami. I didn't mean to hide it anyway.

"But I would love to have a pet like her at home."

In my mind I pictured a pygmy marmoset trying its best to munch on a mango that was as large as itself.

"No big difference."

"At any rate, it's true that I'm quite fond of her."

"How rare for you to admit something that easily." Mirai-san stared at me, surprised.

"It all depends on who it is about! Her straightforwardness causes me to be honest as well."

"Heh, great! Make her your girlfriend and have her fix that twisted personality of yours!"

Mirai-san laughed out loud, bending forward.

"That twisted personality you mention all the time would surely be twisted even more if ''you'' were my girlfriend," I thought without actually saying it.

"—That sounds quite realistic to me." Before I knew it, Tsukimori was standing next to me. "As far as I see, Chizuru is interested in you, too, Nonomiya-kun," said Tsukimori with that mature smile she was so good at.

"Oh? So she's not averse, either? I didn't know Nonomiya was such a lady-killer."

Mirai-san gazed curiously at Tsukimori. In my gaze, however, was nothing but suspicion.

What was she scheming?

Unlike Mirai-san, who didn't know that Tsukimori had asked me to go out with her, I completely failed to understand why she would encourage a relationship with Usami.

"Why don't you just go for her?" Mirai-san didn't miss out on that delicious chance.

"It's not my place to decide on that. Or am I just ignorant and love involves only one person?"

"Hey, didn't Youko just say that your chances are good?"

My snappish words made Mirai-san frown.

"You're no better, either, Tsukimori. I don't appreciate that you're trying to spur us on without reason. Careless remarks like these are rude towards both Usami and me."

I realized that I was irritated. Not angered, but irritated. Not like fire, but like "smoldering embers".

"You are right, Nonomiya-kun. I wasn't supposed to say that. I am sorry."

Tsukimori readily admitted her mistake and bowed in apology.

"Er, yeah, sorry. I didn't expect you to be that serious about it," Mirai-san awkwardly scratched her head, following Tsukimori's example.

"...no, it's up to me to apologize. It's just that I'm not used to such talk."

I showed them some kind of self-deprecation, which was the best I could do to varnish over my irritation.

Unable to keep the conversation going, we shared a few seconds of silence.

Then Mirai-san lost interest and disappeared into the kitchen, seeking an outlet for her vexation: "Saruwatarii!!"

Tsukimori, however, had turned away from me and was standing still—an indecisive attitude that didn't match the image I had of her.

On my part, I was still uncomfortable, sensing a bitter aftertaste on my tongue even now that the conversation was over.

It wasn't irritation that originated from earnestness towards Usami as mentioned by Mirai-san.

Sure enough, a part of me disliked it when people rashly meddled in others' love affairs. However, such situations were common and nowhere near rare, and I would have been able to dodge or adapt respectively, hiding my feelings as I used to do so unhesitatingly until now.

Just now, however, I had disgraced myself by exposing my feelings, which was not like me at all. It was probably the first time I had ever had such an experience.

Why was I so irritated? It was a nasty feeling; while I knew that it was there, I didn't know what the cause was.

At that moment, I heard a murmur.

"...I am sorry," whispered Tsukimori with a tiny, sore voice that was easily drowned out by the ado in the shop. I could not see her face as her back was still facing me, but I somehow sensed that her words weren't an "apology" but rather "remorse".

I never would have thought that Tsukimori regretted her words that much. Concurrently to surprise, I also experienced a strong feeling of pacification.

I had found the cause for my irritation. I still did not clearly know why, but it seemed like the cause was Tsukimori.

Why was I irritated by her?

Another question arose.

I chose to do a reset of my feelings and bring Usami her order because I thought I would only waste time if I got lost in a labyrinth of thoughts.

However, there was one discovery I had made: a new kind of emotion towards Tsukimori was about to be born.

I didn't know the name of that emotion yet, though.

<noinclude>
{{Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 In The Café|In The Café]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Bitter Chocolate

2011-10-26T22:03:59Z

Andrewgr: make it easier to follow who's saying what in this long exchange of dialog

==[Bitter Chocolate]==

I had to admit it: Youko Tsukimori was indeed a perfect girl.

It was naturally me who was assigned to mentor her, being in the same class and all. At first I was rather sour about that cumbersome task, but I soon learned that it's quite enjoyable to teach someone who's good at remembering things.

Only two weeks had passed since Tsukimori had started working at Victoria, but she was already able to do any work related to waiting the tables on her own, such as attending to the customers, taking their orders and operating the register.

In terms of handling the customers, she might have even surpassed anyone else in this café. Furthermore, thanks to the customers who would visit only to enjoy her in a waitress uniform, sales were on the rise, too.

The manager and the other employees were quite impressed with her abilities, while it was no surprise to me since I knew her from school.

What was a surprise, however, was that Tsukimori and Mirai-san were on very good terms. I would have been able to understand it if they had been like cat and dog, but in truth you could even say that they turned out to be a good match.

"I was convinced you wouldn't like her type of person," I addressed Mirai-san.

"It's the opposite. Women like Youko can't stand me."

Mirai-san flashed the kind of smile you would expect of the leader of some wicked organization that schemes to conquer the world.

"Why is that?"

"Conjurers don't like audience that sees through their tricks. And you see, the tricks of those women don't work on me." Indeed, Mirai-san's intuition was queerly sharp. "There's this gal in university who's quite popular with the guys because of such tricks. Well, once I was kinda pissed off by her attitude—okay, my mood had hit the rocks during that period in general—but anyway, I cut her down to size in front of all the others. And when I was finished with her, she wept and wept... such a pain."

"My condolences."

"Right? She always runs away right when she spots me ever since. As if ''I'' was the bad one!"

Mirai-san seemed pleased about having my assent, but my condolences naturally belonged to the poor young woman who had made Mirai-san her enemy.

"But Youko's nothing like that. She seems to be unfeigned, without any tricks or pretenses."

Mirai-san turned her gaze towards the tables where Tsukimori was serving the customers.

"I was keen to blow her cover, but no matter how fiercely I observe her, she shows no openings. Heh, at first I was excited about the arrival of a powerful opponent and was like, 'Don't think you can deceive me forever!', but—"

Mirai-san made a short pause to sneer.

"—Lately, I've come to think that this is how Youko really is."

I followed her gaze to Tsukimori.

Indeed, she was always dignified, so I couldn't even imagine her whining. Even with this cross-grained personality of mine, I considered that gleam of hers pure and not some trick.

She had even managed to tame the "beast". No wonder that the "humans" around her would be captivated by her.

"What I like most about her is definitely that she isn't scared of me," said Mirai-san, who then turned around to the kitchen and suddenly shouted: "SARUWATARI!"

"Y-Yes, ma'am!"

"Do your work properly!"

"I...I will! I will do it so properly!" cried Saruwatari-san, and moved even faster than before.

"See? Any other guy's like that, right?" 

"Are you a devil?"

"You moron! It may not look like it, but Saruwari actually has a crush on me, you know?" Mirai-san tapped my forehead with her index finger. "Though I just don't have a thing for such timid guys."

"You ''are'' a devil."

I was speechless, only rubbing my forehead.

"Anyway, the point is I like her. Even if it's just some faked mask. It's my loss!"

"Is it as simple as that?"

"It is. However vicious Youko may turn out to be, I won't be able to dislike her so easily anymore. It's the same as my fondness of chocolate, which I can't stop though everyone babbles that eating too much isn't good for my health."

The self-proclaimed chocolate addict Mirai-san sat down on an edge of the counter, took a block chocolate out of her pocket and threw it in the air just to catch it with her healthily red tongue.

"My, that is bad manners Mirai-san! Don't always try to snack on chocolate when the shop manager is not watching. He told me that certain story about you, you know? Once, you collapsed because you wouldn't eat anything but chocolate," scolded Tsukimori, who had come over to forward an order, with the attitude of a class officer towards a delinquent.

"Speak of the devil!" countered Mirai-san in a daunting tone that sounded like nothing but a perfect example of delinquency.

"You were talking about me? Not badly I hope, ''right''?"

"Why, of course not. We were praising you, Youko."

"Very well, I will take your word for it this time."

In contrast to what they said, they both seemed to enjoy talking to each other.

"You like me, don't you?" asked Mirai-san out of the blue.

"Yes, I do," replied Tsukimori in a split second with a giggle. "You also like me, right?"

"Without saying." Another immediate reply. They looked almost like old friends. "See? That's what I was getting at."

"I see."

There were still some points that didn't make much sense to me, but I understood roughly what she wanted to say.

"—You really resemble each other in a way, huh," murmured Tsukimori suddenly.

Mirai-san and I looked at each other.

"Such an uncharming guy and I?"

"I'm not ''that'' frank, you know?"

Our denials were in sync.

"You don't flatter anyone, you don't go with the flow. 'You have your way', so to speak. I am actually quite jealous of that character trait of yours."

I paused for a moment before answering her, "Mirai-san is holier-than-thou to the core, while I simply take to going at my own pace. Unlike her, I am able to adapt and gladly follow superiors if necessary."

"I am always honest and not scheming like you," objected Mirai-san sharply.

"You ought to realize that sometimes the truth can hurt others more than a lie."

"You really are a cheeky fellow without any charm, Nonomiya."

"I don't need that from an indelicate bully like you!"

I sneered, whereupon Mirai-san stood up with glaring eyes.

"All right, Nonomiya!! You just overstepped your bounds! Let's take this outside! I'll bend that warped nature of yours into shape with my fists!"

Tsukimori, who had been watching us, suddenly started to giggle.

"You are like siblings."

"—Nonomiya, my brother?"

She let go of my collar and evaluated me from tip to toe with her gaze.

"Sis," I tried teasing her. To me it sounded like nothing but a Yakuza's way of addressing his female superior.

".........what a nightmare."

Whether it was because Tsukimori had spoiled her appetite for argument or because she was disgusted with the way I had called her, Mirai-san disappeared into the kitchen, holding her head.

"She may not look like it, but Mirai-san likes you, Nonomiya-kun," whispered Tsukimori. "I think she was actually fairly pleased that you called her 'sister'. I am sure she only escaped because she was embarrassed."

I gazed at her.

"What's the matter? Why that wondering face?"

"Even though you have spent much less time with Mirai-san than me, you seem to understand her pretty well."

"I have an eye for people. I knew we would get along well at first glance," Tsukimori told me, seeming very pleased with the compliment I had given her.

"But your eye for men needs some serious polishing."

Apparently, her mood ''was'' good; all I got in return for my cynical remark was a sugar-sweet smile.

"I really don't think so? You will surely become my dear life partner."

She skillfully put a cup of coffee onto the tray and headed with light steps towards a table.

I didn't intend to go along with her plans, so it was safe to assume that she had no foundation; but upon seeing her self-confident smile, I couldn't help but think that her words would come true.

Still, I had no plans of trusting her off-handedly like Mirai-san.

She wouldn't have stopped doubting Tsukimori so easily either, if she were in my position.

Because I knew about the murder recipe.

After Tsukimori started working at Victoria, Usami also became a frequent sight in the shop.

With her being very communicative, it didn't take long until she was well-liked by both the staff and the manager, and by now she was a proper regular. Thanks to that I was permanently on tenterhooks, afraid that Mister Kujirai might offer her a position.

"Hey, Nonomiya, Nonomiya, listen!"

Since she usually came after her club activities, she mostly arrived just before evening when the number of customers started to drop. She would then happily tell us about "that day's events".

"I was selected as a regular player for the next match!"

"Congratulations. Let me treat you to a drink to mark the occasion."

"Yay!" she shouted out so vigorously she almost jumped to her feet. "Um, in that case... can I ask for one more thing?"

She suddenly got flustered and peeked up at me with embarrassment. Her big, round eyes reminded me of a pygmy marmoset.

"If it's within my power."

"Can I take a photo of you?"

"Why? We see each other almost everyday. There's no point in specially taking a photo, is there?"

"Yes, there is! I want you in your garçon outfit!"

"I see." I pretended to ponder about it. "No."

"Why not! There should be no prob with it! It won't hurt!"

It was so amusing when she became angry and acted like a willful child.

"I'm not very fond of photographs and the like."

That was no lie. I meant it.

"But your garçon look has rarity value; it would be a shame, I tell you! Come on, just one!" she passionately tried to persuade me.

"Well, since you've finally become a regular player and want it so much—"

"Eh? You'll let me?"

Usami's eyes sparkled with expectations.

"—I'll refuse."

Which I gladly belied.

"EEH?! Why?!"

"Because I don't want to have my soul sucked out."

"That's a silly superstition!"

Teasing Usami was a life task of sorts for me. Because watching her reactions was like getting the crisp and shrill sound of a bell, I couldn't stop being mean to her.

"Geez! You miser!"

"Say what you want but my answer remains 'no'."

"I'll just take one secretly then..."

"As you just told the person in question, it's not going to be secretly at all."

"Take that!"

Usami adopted drastic measures: she pointed her mobile phone at me and tried to shoot. I instantaneously turned from her.

"Aaah! W-Why did you turn around?!"

"Taking photographs is prohibited in this establishment. If you do not abide by this rule, I will have to request that you leave," I explained in an official-sounding tone, whereupon Usami puffed up her cheeks and stowed her phone away into her bag, but not without hissing: "Miser!"

Accidentally a laugh escaped my lips.

"Cheer up, Usami. I can't consent to the photograph, but I'll treat you to dessert instead."

Her sour look moved me and made me want to spoil her. That's another form of carrot and stick, I guess.

"...an ice chocolate and a mango tart."

"Certainly," I answered her with the best smile I could produce and headed towards the kitchen to forward the order.

I couldn't keep my expression from loosening, which was only reasonable. Usami's straightforward reactions had a sort of stress-alleviating effect on me—probably because I had to deal with peculiar, to say the least, persons during my usual day.

"You're like a child that's playing with its favorite toy." With her chin propped up on her hand, Mirai-san grinned lopsidedly.

"Why, I would never think of her as a toy!" I answered while arranging the bills after I had communicated the order to Saruwatari-san.

Naturally, Mirai-san with her sharp wits had already noticed that I was fond of Usami. I didn't mean to hide it anyway.

"But I would love to have a pet like her at home."

In my mind I pictured a pygmy marmoset trying its best to munch on a mango that was as large as itself.

"No big difference."

"At any rate, it's true that I'm quite fond of her."

"How rare for you to admit something that easily." Mirai-san stared at me, surprised.

"It all depends on who it is about! Her straightforwardness causes me to be honest as well."

"Heh, great! Make her your girlfriend and have her fix that twisted personality of yours!"

Mirai-san laughed out loud, bending forward.

"That twisted personality you mention all the time would surely be twisted even more if ''you'' were my girlfriend," I thought without actually saying it.

"—That sounds quite realistic to me." Before I knew it, Tsukimori was standing next to me. "As far as I see, Chizuru is interested in you, too, Nonomiya-kun," said Tsukimori with that mature smile she was so good at.

"Oh? So she's not averse, either? I didn't know Nonomiya was such a lady-killer."

Mirai-san gazed curiously at Tsukimori. In my gaze, however, was nothing but suspicion.

What was she scheming?

Unlike Mirai-san, who didn't know that Tsukimori had asked me to go out with her, I completely failed to understand why she would encourage a relationship with Usami.

"Why don't you just go for her?" Mirai-san didn't miss out on that delicious chance.

"It's not my place to decide on that. Or am I just ignorant and love involves only one person?"

"Hey, didn't Youko just say that your chances are good?"

My snappish words made Mirai-san frown.

"You're no better, either, Tsukimori. I don't appreciate that you're trying to spur us on without reason. Careless remarks like these are rude towards both Usami and me."

I realized that I was irritated. Not angered, but irritated. Not like fire, but like "smoldering embers".

"You are right, Nonomiya-kun. I wasn't supposed to say that. I am sorry."

Tsukimori readily admitted her mistake and bowed in apology.

"Er, yeah, sorry. I didn't expect you to be that serious about it," Mirai-san awkwardly scratched her head, following Tsukimori's example.

"...no, it's up to me to apologize. It's just that I'm not used to such talk."

I showed them some kind of self-deprecation, which was the best I could do to varnish over my irritation.

Unable to keep the conversation going, we shared a few seconds of silence.

Then Mirai-san lost interest and disappeared into the kitchen, seeking an outlet for her vexation: "Saruwatarii!!"

Tsukimori, however, had turned away from me and was standing still—an indecisive attitude that didn't match the image I had of her.

On my part, I was still uncomfortable, sensing a bitter aftertaste on my tongue even now that the conversation was over.

It wasn't irritation that originated from earnestness towards Usami as mentioned by Mirai-san.

Sure enough, a part of me disliked it when people rashly meddled in others' love affairs. However, such situations were common and nowhere near rare, and I would have been able to dodge or adapt respectively, hiding my feelings as I used to do so unhesitatingly until now.

Just now, however, I had disgraced myself by exposing my feelings, which was not like me at all. It was probably the first time I had ever had such an experience.

Why was I so irritated? It was a nasty feeling; while I knew that it was there, I didn't know what the cause was.

At that moment, I heard a murmur.

"...I am sorry," whispered Tsukimori with a tiny, sore voice that was easily drowned out by the ado in the shop. I could not see her face as her back was still facing me, but I somehow sensed that her words weren't an "apology" but rather "remorse".

I never would have thought that Tsukimori regretted her words that much. Concurrently to surprise, I also experienced a strong feeling of pacification.

I had found the cause for my irritation. I still did not clearly know why, but it seemed like the cause was Tsukimori.

Why was I irritated by her?

Another question arose.

I chose to do a reset of my feelings and bring Usami her order because I thought I would only waste time if I got lost in a labyrinth of thoughts.

However, there was one discovery I made: a new kind of emotion towards Tsukimori was about to be born.

I didn't know the name of that emotion yet, though.

<noinclude>
{{Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 In The Café|In The Café]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Bitter Chocolate

2011-10-26T21:56:58Z

Andrewgr: use proper form of word

==[Bitter Chocolate]==

I had to admit it: Youko Tsukimori was indeed a perfect girl.

It was naturally me who was assigned to mentor her, being in the same class and all. At first I was rather sour about that cumbersome task, but I soon learned that it's quite enjoyable to teach someone who's good at remembering things.

Only two weeks had passed since Tsukimori had started working at Victoria, but she was already able to do any work related to waiting the tables on her own, such as attending to the customers, taking their orders and operating the register.

In terms of handling the customers, she might have even surpassed anyone else in this café. Furthermore, thanks to the customers who would visit only to enjoy her in a waitress uniform, sales were on the rise, too.

The manager and the other employees were quite impressed with her abilities, while it was no surprise to me since I knew her from school.

What was a surprise, however, was that Tsukimori and Mirai-san were on very good terms. I would have been able to understand it if they had been like cat and dog, but in truth you could even say that they turned out to be a good match.

"I was convinced you wouldn't like her type of person," I addressed Mirai-san.

"It's the opposite. Women like Youko can't stand me."

Mirai-san flashed the kind of smile you would expect of the leader of some wicked organization that schemes to conquer the world.

"Why is that?"

"Conjurers don't like audience that sees through their tricks. And you see, the tricks of those women don't work on me." Indeed, Mirai-san's intuition was queerly sharp. "There's this gal in university who's quite popular with the guys because of such tricks. Well, once I was kinda pissed off by her attitude—okay, my mood had hit the rocks during that period in general—but anyway, I cut her down to size in front of all the others. And when I was finished with her, she wept and wept... such a pain."

"My condolences."

"Right? She always runs away right when she spots me ever since. As if ''I'' was the bad one!"

Mirai-san seemed pleased about having my assent, but my condolences naturally belonged to the poor young woman who had made Mirai-san her enemy.

"But Youko's nothing like that. She seems to be unfeigned, without any tricks or pretenses."

Mirai-san turned her gaze towards the tables where Tsukimori was serving the customers.

"I was keen to blow her cover, but no matter how fiercely I observe her, she shows no openings. Heh, at first I was excited about the arrival of a powerful opponent and was like, 'Don't think you can deceive me forever!', but—"

Mirai-san made a short pause to sneer.

"—Lately, I've come to think that this is how Youko really is."

I followed her gaze to Tsukimori.

Indeed, she was always dignified, so I couldn't even imagine her whining. Even with this cross-grained personality of mine, I considered that gleam of hers pure and not some trick.

She had even managed to tame the "beast". No wonder that the "humans" around her would be captivated by her.

"What I like most about her is definitely that she isn't scared of me," said Mirai-san, who then turned around to the kitchen and suddenly shouted: "SARUWATARI!"

"Y-Yes, ma'am!"

"Do your work properly!"

"I...I will! I will do it so properly!" cried Saruwatari-san, and moved even faster than before.

"See? Any other guy's like that, right?" 

"Are you a devil?"

"You moron! It may not look like it, but Saruwari actually has a crush on me, you know?" Mirai-san tapped my forehead with her index finger. "Though I just don't have a thing for such timid guys."

"You ''are'' a devil."

I was speechless, only rubbing my forehead.

"Anyway, the point is I like her. Even if it's just some faked mask. It's my loss!"

"Is it as simple as that?"

"It is. However vicious Youko may turn out to be, I won't be able to dislike her so easily anymore. It's the same as my fondness of chocolate, which I can't stop though everyone babbles that eating too much isn't good for my health."

The self-proclaimed chocolate addict Mirai-san sat down on an edge of the counter, took a block chocolate out of her pocket and threw it in the air just to catch it with her healthily red tongue.

"My, that is bad manners Mirai-san! Don't always try to snack on chocolate when the shop manager is not watching. He told me that certain story about you, you know? Once, you collapsed because you wouldn't eat anything but chocolate," scolded Tsukimori, who had come over to forward an order, with the attitude of a class officer towards a delinquent.

"Speak of the devil!" countered Mirai-san in a daunting tone that sounded like nothing but a perfect example of delinquency.

"You were talking about me? Not badly I hope, ''right''?"

"Why, of course not. We were praising you, Youko."

"Very well, I will take your word for it this time."

In contrast to what they said, they both seemed to enjoy talking to each other.

"You like me, don't you?" asked Mirai-san out of the blue.

"Yes, I do," replied Tsukimori in a split second with a giggle. "You also like me, right?"

"Without saying." Another immediate reply. They looked almost like old friends. "See? That's what I was getting at."

"I see."

There were still some points that didn't make much sense to me, but I understood roughly what she wanted to say.

"—You really resemble each other in a way, huh," murmured Tsukimori suddenly.

Mirai-san and I looked at each other.

"Such an uncharming guy and I?"

"I'm not ''that'' frank, you know?"

Our denials were in sync.

"You don't flatter anyone, you don't go with the flow. 'You have your way', so to speak. I am actually quite jealous of that character trait of yours."

I paused for a moment before answering her, "Mirai-san is holier-than-thou to the core, while I simply take to going at my own pace. Unlike her, I am able to adapt and gladly follow superiors if necessary."

"I am always honest and not scheming like you," objected Mirai-san sharply.

"You ought to realize that sometimes the truth can hurt others more than a lie."

"You really are a cheeky fellow without any charm, Nonomiya."

"I don't need that from an indelicate bully like you!"

I sneered, whereupon Mirai-san stood up with glaring eyes.

"All right, Nonomiya!! You just overstepped your bounds! Let's take this outside! I'll bend that warped nature of yours into shape with my fists!"

Tsukimori, who had been watching us, suddenly started to giggle.

"You are like siblings."

"—Nonomiya, my brother?"

She let go of my collar and evaluated me from tip to toe with her gaze.

"Sis," I tried teasing her. To me it sounded like nothing but a Yakuza's way of addressing his female superior.

".........what a nightmare."

Whether it was because Tsukimori had spoiled her appetite for argument or because she was disgusted with the way I had called her, Mirai-san disappeared into the kitchen, holding her head.

"She may not look like it, but Mirai-san likes you, Nonomiya-kun," whispered Tsukimori. "I think she was actually fairly pleased that you called her 'sister'. I am sure she only escaped because she was embarrassed."

I gazed at her.

"What's the matter? Why that wondering face?"

"Even though you have spent much less time with Mirai-san than me, you seem to understand her pretty well."

"I have an eye for people. I knew we would get along well at first glance," Tsukimori told me, seeming very pleased with the compliment I had given her.

"But your eye for men needs some serious polishing."

Apparently, her mood ''was'' good; all I got in return for my cynical remark was a sugar-sweet smile.

"I really don't think so? You will surely become my dear life partner."

She skillfully put a cup of coffee onto the tray and headed with light steps towards a table.

I didn't intend to go along with her plans, so it was safe to assume that she had no foundation; but upon seeing her self-confident smile, I couldn't help but think that her words would come true.

Still, I had no plans of trusting her off-handedly like Mirai-san.

She wouldn't have stopped doubting Tsukimori so easily either, if she were in my position.

Because I knew about the murder recipe.

After Tsukimori started working at Victoria, Usami also became a frequent sight in the shop.

With her being very communicative, it didn't take long until she was well-liked by both the staff and the manager, and by now she was a proper regular. Thanks to that I was permanently on tenterhooks, afraid that Mister Kujirai might offer her a position.

"Hey, Nonomiya, Nonomiya, listen!"

Since she usually came after her club activities, she mostly arrived just before evening when the number of customers started to drop. She would then happily tell us about "that day's events".

"I was selected as a regular player for the next match!"

"Congratulations. Let me treat you to a drink to mark the occasion."

"Yay!" she shouted out so vigorously she almost jumped to her feet. "Um, in that case... can I ask for one more thing?"

She suddenly got flustered and peeked up at me with embarrassment. Her big, round eyes reminded me of a pygmy marmoset.

"If it's within my power."

"Can I take a photo of you?"

"Why? We see each other almost everyday. There's no point in specially taking a photo, is there?"

"Yes, there is! I want you in your garçon outfit!"

"I see." I pretended to ponder about it. "No."

"Why not! There should be no prob with it! It won't hurt!"

It was so amusing when she became angry and acted like a willful child.

"I'm not very fond of photographs and the like."

That was no lie. I meant it.

"But your garçon look has rarity value; it would be a shame, I tell you! Come on, just one!" she passionately tried to persuade me.

"Well, since you've finally become a regular player and want it so much—"

"Eh? You'll let me?"

Usami's eyes sparkled with expectations.

"—I'll refuse."

Which I gladly belied.

"EEH?! Why?!"

"Because I don't want to have my soul sucked out."

"That's a silly superstition!"

Teasing Usami was a life task of sorts for me. Because watching her reactions was like getting the crisp and shrill sound of a bell, I couldn't stop being mean to her.

"Geez! You miser!"

"Say what you want but my answer remains 'no'."

"I'll just take one secretly then..."

"As you just told the person in question, it's not going to be secretly at all."

"Take that!"

Usami adopted drastic measures: she pointed her mobile phone at me and tried to shoot. I instantaneously turned from her.

"Aaah! W-Why did you turn around?!"

"Taking photographs is prohibited in this establishment. If you do not abide by this rule, I will have to request that you leave," I explained in an official-sounding tone, whereupon Usami puffed up her cheeks and stowed her phone away into her bag, but not without hissing: "Miser!"

Accidentally a laugh escaped my lips.

"Cheer up, Usami. I can't consent to the photograph, but I'll treat you to dessert instead."

Her sour look moved me and made me want to spoil her. That's another form of carrot and stick, I guess.

"...an ice chocolate and a mango tart."

"Certainly," I answered her with the best smile I could produce and headed towards the kitchen to forward the order.

I couldn't keep my expression from loosening, which was only reasonable. Usami's straightforward reactions had a sort of stress-alleviating effect on me—probably because I had to deal with peculiar, to say the least, persons during my usual day.

"You're like a child that's playing with its favorite toy."

With her chin propped up on her hand, Mirai-san grinned lopsidedly.

"Why, I would never think of her as a toy!" I answered while arranging the bills after I had communicated the order to Saruwatari-san.

Naturally, Mirai-san with her sharp wits had already noticed that I was fond of Usami. I didn't mean to hide it anyway.

"But I would love to have a pet like her at home."

In my mind I pictured a pygmy marmoset trying its best to munch on a mango that was as large as itself.

"No big difference."

"At any rate, it's true that I'm quite fond of her."

"How rare for you to admit something that easily."

Mirai-san stared at me, surprised.

"It all depends on who it is about! Her straightforwardness causes me to be honest as well."

"Heh, great! Make her your girlfriend and have her fix that twisted personality of yours!"

Mirai-san laughed out loud, bending forward.

"That twisted personality you mention all the time would surely be twisted even more if ''you'' were my girlfriend," I thought without actually saying it.

"—That sounds quite realistic to me."

Before I knew it, Tsukimori was standing next to me.

"As far as I see, Chizuru is interested in you, too, Nonomiya-kun," said Tsukimori with that mature smile she was so good at.

"Oh? So she's not averse, either? I didn't know Nonomiya was such a lady-killer."

Mirai-san gazed curiously at Tsukimori. In my gaze, however, was nothing but suspicion.

What was she scheming?

Unlike Mirai-san, who didn't know that Tsukimori had asked me to go out with her, I completely failed to understand why she would encourage a relationship with Usami.

"Why don't you just go for her?"

Mirai-san didn't miss out on that delicious chance.

"It's not my place to decide on that. Or am I just ignorant and love involves only one person?"

"Hey, didn't Youko just say that your chances are good?"

My snappish words made Mirai-san frown.

"You're no better, either, Tsukimori. I don't appreciate that you're trying to spur us on without reason. Careless remarks like these are rude towards both Usami and me."

I realized that I was irritated. Not angered, but irritated. Not like fire, but like "smoldering embers".

"You are right, Nonomiya-kun. I wasn't supposed to say that. I am sorry."

Tsukimori readily admitted her mistake and bowed in apology.

"Er, yeah, sorry. I didn't expect you to be that serious about it," Mirai-san awkwardly scratched her head, following Tsukimori's example.

"...no, it's up to me to apologize. It's just that I'm not used to such talk."

I showed them some kind of self-deprecation, which was the best I could do to varnish over my irritation.

Unable to keep the conversation going, we shared a few seconds of silence.

Then Mirai-san lost interest and disappeared into the kitchen, seeking an outlet for her vexation: "Saruwatarii!!"

Tsukimori, however, had turned away from me and was standing still—an indecisive attitude that didn't match the image I had of her.

On my part, I was still uncomfortable, sensing a bitter aftertaste on my tongue even now that the conversation was over.

It wasn't irritation that originated from earnestness towards Usami as mentioned by Mirai-san.

Sure enough, a part of me disliked it when people rashly meddled in others' love affairs. However, such situations were common and nowhere near rare, and I would have been able to dodge or adapt respectively, hiding my feelings as I used to do so unhesitatingly until now.

Just now, however, I had disgraced myself by exposing my feelings, which was not like me at all. It was probably the first time I had ever had such an experience.

Why was I so irritated? It was a nasty feeling; while I knew that it was there, I didn't know what the cause was.

At that moment, I heard a murmur.

"...I am sorry," whispered Tsukimori with a tiny, sore voice that was easily drowned out by the ado in the shop. I could not see her face as her back was still facing me, but I somehow sensed that her words weren't an "apology" but rather "remorse".

I never would have thought that Tsukimori regretted her words that much. Concurrently to surprise, I also experienced a strong feeling of pacification.

I had found the cause for my irritation. I still did not clearly know why, but it seemed like the cause was Tsukimori.

Why was I irritated by her?

Another question arose.

I chose to do a reset of my feelings and bring Usami her order because I thought I would only waste time if I got lost in a labyrinth of thoughts.

However, there was one discovery I made: a new kind of emotion towards Tsukimori was about to be born.

I didn't know the name of that emotion yet, though.

<noinclude>
{{Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 In The Café|In The Café]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Bitter Chocolate

2011-10-26T21:53:43Z

Andrewgr: question for translator

==[Bitter Chocolate]==

I had to admit it: Youko Tsukimori was indeed a perfect girl.

It was naturally me who was assigned to mentor her, being in the same class and all. At first I was rather sour about that cumbersome task, but I soon learned that it's quite enjoyable to teach someone who's good at remembering things.

Only two weeks had passed since Tsukimori had started working at Victoria, but she was already able to do any work related to waiting the tables on her own, such as attending to the customers, taking their orders and operating the register.

In terms of handling the customers, she might have even surpassed anyone else in this café. Furthermore, thanks to the customers who would visit only to enjoy her in a waitress uniform, sales were on the rise, too.

The manager and the other employees were quite impressed with her abilities, while it was no surprise to me since I knew her from school.

What was a surprise, however, was that Tsukimori and Mirai-san were on very good terms. I would have been able to understand it if they had been like cat and dog, but in truth you could even say that they turned out to be a good match.

"I was convinced you wouldn't like her type of person," I addressed Mirai-san.

"It's the opposite. Women like Youko can't stand me."

Mirai-san flashed the kind of smile you would expect of the leader of some wicked organization that schemes to conquer the world.

"Why is that?"

"Conjurers don't like audience that sees through their tricks. And you see, the tricks of those women don't work on me." Indeed, Mirai-san's intuition was queerly sharp. "There's this gal in university who's quite popular with the guys because of such tricks. Well, once I was kinda pissed off by her attitude—okay, my mood had hit the rocks during that period in general—but anyway, I cut her down to size in front of all the others. And when I was finished with her, she wept and wept... such a pain."

"My condolences."

"Right? She always runs away right when she spots me ever since. As if ''I'' was the bad one!"

Mirai-san seemed pleased about having my assent, but my condolences naturally belonged to the poor young woman who had made Mirai-san her enemy.

"But Youko's nothing like that. She seems to be unfeigned, without any tricks or pretenses."

Mirai-san turned her gaze towards the tables where Tsukimori was serving the customers.

"I was keen to blow her cover, but no matter how fiercely I observe her, she shows no openings. Heh, at first I was excited about the arrival of a powerful opponent and was like, 'Don't think you can deceive me forever!', but—"

Mirai-san made a short pause to sneer.

"—Lately, I've come to think that this is how Youko really is."

I followed her gaze to Tsukimori.

Indeed, she was always dignified, so I couldn't even imagine her whining. Even with this cross-grained personality of mine, I considered that gleam of hers pure and not some trick.

She had even managed to tame the "beast". No wonder that the "humans" around her would be captivated by her.

"What I like most about her is definitely that she isn't scared of me," said Mirai-san, who then turned around to the kitchen and suddenly shouted: "SARUWATARI!"

"Y-Yes, ma'am!"

"Do your work properly!"

"I...I will! I will do it so properly!" cried Saruwatari-san, and moved even faster than before.

"See? Any other guy's like that, right?" 

"Are you a devil?"

"You moron! It may not look like it, but Saruwari actually has a crush on me, you know?" Mirai-san tapped my forehead with her index finger. "Though I just don't have a thing for such timid guys."

"You ''are'' a devil."

I was speechless, only rubbing my forehead.

"Anyway, the point is I like her. Even if it's just some faked mask. It's my loss!"

"Is it as simple as that?"

"It is. However vicious Youko may turn out to be, I won't be able to dislike her so easily anymore. It's the same as my fondness of chocolate, which I can't stop though everyone babbles that eating too much isn't good for my health."

The self-proclaimed chocolate addict Mirai-san sat down on an edge of the counter, took a block chocolate out of her pocket and threw it in the air just to catch it with her healthily red tongue.

"My, that is bad manners Mirai-san! Don't always try to snack on chocolate when the shop manager is not watching. He told me that certain story about you, you know? Once, you collapsed because you wouldn't eat anything but chocolate," scolded Tsukimori, who had come over to forward an order, with the attitude of a class officer towards a delinquent.

"Speak of the devil!" countered Mirai-san in a daunting tone that sounded like nothing but a perfect example of delinquency.

"You were talking about me? Not badly I hope, ''right''?"

"Why, of course not. We were praising you, Youko."

"Very well, I will take your word for it this time."

In contrast to what they said, they both seemed to enjoy talking to each other.

"You like me, don't you?" asked Mirai-san out of the blue.

"Yes, I do," replied Tsukimori in a split second with a giggle. "You also like me, right?"

"Without saying." Another immediate reply. They looked almost like old friends. "See? That's what I was getting at."

"I see."

There were still some points that didn't make much sense to me, but I understood roughly what she wanted to say.

"—You really resemble each other in a way, huh," murmured Tsukimori suddenly.

Mirai-san and I looked at each other.

"Such an uncharming guy and I?"

"I'm not ''that'' frank, you know?"

Our denials were in sync.

"You don't flatter anyone, you don't go with the flow. 'You have your way', so to speak. I am actually quite jealous of that character trait of yours."

I paused for a moment before answering her, "Mirai-san is holier-than-thou to the core, while I simply take to going at my own pace. Unlike her, I am able to adapt and gladly follow superiors if necessary."

"I am always honest and not scheming like you," objected Mirai-san sharply.

"You ought to realize that sometimes the truth can hurt others more than a lie."

"You really are a cheeky fellow without any charm, Nonomiya."

"I don't need that from an indelicate bully like you!"

I sneered, whereupon Mirai-san stood up with glaring eyes.

"All right, Nonomiya!! You just overstepped your bounds! Let's take this outside! I'll bend that warped nature of yours into shape with my fists!"

Tsukimori, who had been watching us, suddenly started to giggle.

"You are like siblings."

"—Nonomiya, my brother?"

She let go of my collar and evaluated me from tip to toe with her gaze.

"Sis," I tried teasing her. To me it sounded like nothing but a Yakuza's way of addressing his female superior.

".........what a nightmare."

Whether it was because Tsukimori had spoiled her appetite for argument or because she was disgusted with the way I had called her, Mirai-san disappeared into the kitchen, holding her head.

"She may not look like it, but Mirai-san likes you, Nonomiya-kun," whispered Tsukimori. "I think she was actually fairly pleased that you called her 'sister'. I am sure she only escaped because she was embarrassed."

I gazed at her.

"What's the matter? Why that wondering face?"

"Even though you have spent much less time with Mirai-san than me, you seem to understand her pretty well."

"I have an eye for people. I knew we would get along well at first glance," Tsukimori told me, seeming very pleased with the compliment I had given her.

"But your eye for men needs some serious polishing."

Apparently, her mood ''was'' good; all I got in return for my cynic remark was a sugar-sweet smile.

"I really don't think so? You will surely become my dear life partner."

She skillfully put a cup of coffee onto the tray and headed with light steps towards a table.

I didn't intend to go along with her plans, so it was safe to assume that she had no foundation; but upon seeing her self-confident smile, I couldn't help but think that her words would come true.

Still, I had no plans of trusting her off-handedly like Mirai-san.

She wouldn't have stopped doubting Tsukimori so easily either, if she were in my position.

Because I knew about the murder recipe.

After Tsukimori started working at Victoria, Usami also became a frequent sight in the shop.

With her being very communicative, it didn't take long until she was well-liked by both the staff and the manager, and by now she was a proper regular. Thanks to that I was permanently on tenterhooks, afraid that Mister Kujirai might offer her a position.

"Hey, Nonomiya, Nonomiya, listen!"

Since she usually came after her club activities, she mostly arrived just before evening when the number of customers started to drop. She would then happily tell us about "that day's events".

"I was selected as a regular player for the next match!"

"Congratulations. Let me treat you to a drink to mark the occasion."

"Yay!" she shouted out so vigorously she almost jumped to her feet. "Um, in that case... can I ask for one more thing?"

She suddenly got flustered and peeked up at me with embarrassment. Her big, round eyes reminded me of a pygmy marmoset.

"If it's within my power."

"Can I take a photo of you?"

"Why? We see each other almost everyday. There's no point in specially taking a photo, is there?"

"Yes, there is! I want you in your garçon outfit!"

"I see." I pretended to ponder about it. "No."

"Why not! There should be no prob with it! It won't hurt!"

It was so amusing when she became angry and acted like a willful child.

"I'm not very fond of photographs and the like."

That was no lie. I meant it.

"But your garçon look has rarity value; it would be a shame, I tell you! Come on, just one!" she passionately tried to persuade me.

"Well, since you've finally become a regular player and want it so much—"

"Eh? You'll let me?"

Usami's eyes sparkled with expectations.

"—I'll refuse."

Which I gladly belied.

"EEH?! Why?!"

"Because I don't want to have my soul sucked out."

"That's a silly superstition!"

Teasing Usami was a life task of sorts for me. Because watching her reactions was like getting the crisp and shrill sound of a bell, I couldn't stop being mean to her.

"Geez! You miser!"

"Say what you want but my answer remains 'no'."

"I'll just take one secretly then..."

"As you just told the person in question, it's not going to be secretly at all."

"Take that!"

Usami adopted drastic measures: she pointed her mobile phone at me and tried to shoot. I instantaneously turned from her.

"Aaah! W-Why did you turn around?!"

"Taking photographs is prohibited in this establishment. If you do not abide by this rule, I will have to request that you leave," I explained in an official-sounding tone, whereupon Usami puffed up her cheeks and stowed her phone away into her bag, but not without hissing: "Miser!"

Accidentally a laugh escaped my lips.

"Cheer up, Usami. I can't consent to the photograph, but I'll treat you to dessert instead."

Her sour look moved me and made me want to spoil her. That's another form of carrot and stick, I guess.

"...an ice chocolate and a mango tart."

"Certainly," I answered her with the best smile I could produce and headed towards the kitchen to forward the order.

I couldn't keep my expression from loosening, which was only reasonable. Usami's straightforward reactions had a sort of stress-alleviating effect on me—probably because I had to deal with peculiar, to say the least, persons during my usual day.

"You're like a child that's playing with its favorite toy."

With her chin propped up on her hand, Mirai-san grinned lopsidedly.

"Why, I would never think of her as a toy!" I answered while arranging the bills after I had communicated the order to Saruwatari-san.

Naturally, Mirai-san with her sharp wits had already noticed that I was fond of Usami. I didn't mean to hide it anyway.

"But I would love to have a pet like her at home."

In my mind I pictured a pygmy marmoset trying its best to munch on a mango that was as large as itself.

"No big difference."

"At any rate, it's true that I'm quite fond of her."

"How rare for you to admit something that easily."

Mirai-san stared at me, surprised.

"It all depends on who it is about! Her straightforwardness causes me to be honest as well."

"Heh, great! Make her your girlfriend and have her fix that twisted personality of yours!"

Mirai-san laughed out loud, bending forward.

"That twisted personality you mention all the time would surely be twisted even more if ''you'' were my girlfriend," I thought without actually saying it.

"—That sounds quite realistic to me."

Before I knew it, Tsukimori was standing next to me.

"As far as I see, Chizuru is interested in you, too, Nonomiya-kun," said Tsukimori with that mature smile she was so good at.

"Oh? So she's not averse, either? I didn't know Nonomiya was such a lady-killer."

Mirai-san gazed curiously at Tsukimori. In my gaze, however, was nothing but suspicion.

What was she scheming?

Unlike Mirai-san, who didn't know that Tsukimori had asked me to go out with her, I completely failed to understand why she would encourage a relationship with Usami.

"Why don't you just go for her?"

Mirai-san didn't miss out on that delicious chance.

"It's not my place to decide on that. Or am I just ignorant and love involves only one person?"

"Hey, didn't Youko just say that your chances are good?"

My snappish words made Mirai-san frown.

"You're no better, either, Tsukimori. I don't appreciate that you're trying to spur us on without reason. Careless remarks like these are rude towards both Usami and me."

I realized that I was irritated. Not angered, but irritated. Not like fire, but like "smoldering embers".

"You are right, Nonomiya-kun. I wasn't supposed to say that. I am sorry."

Tsukimori readily admitted her mistake and bowed in apology.

"Er, yeah, sorry. I didn't expect you to be that serious about it," Mirai-san awkwardly scratched her head, following Tsukimori's example.

"...no, it's up to me to apologize. It's just that I'm not used to such talk."

I showed them some kind of self-deprecation, which was the best I could do to varnish over my irritation.

Unable to keep the conversation going, we shared a few seconds of silence.

Then Mirai-san lost interest and disappeared into the kitchen, seeking an outlet for her vexation: "Saruwatarii!!"

Tsukimori, however, had turned away from me and was standing still—an indecisive attitude that didn't match the image I had of her.

On my part, I was still uncomfortable, sensing a bitter aftertaste on my tongue even now that the conversation was over.

It wasn't irritation that originated from earnestness towards Usami as mentioned by Mirai-san.

Sure enough, a part of me disliked it when people rashly meddled in others' love affairs. However, such situations were common and nowhere near rare, and I would have been able to dodge or adapt respectively, hiding my feelings as I used to do so unhesitatingly until now.

Just now, however, I had disgraced myself by exposing my feelings, which was not like me at all. It was probably the first time I had ever had such an experience.

Why was I so irritated? It was a nasty feeling; while I knew that it was there, I didn't know what the cause was.

At that moment, I heard a murmur.

"...I am sorry," whispered Tsukimori with a tiny, sore voice that was easily drowned out by the ado in the shop. I could not see her face as her back was still facing me, but I somehow sensed that her words weren't an "apology" but rather "remorse".

I never would have thought that Tsukimori regretted her words that much. Concurrently to surprise, I also experienced a strong feeling of pacification.

I had found the cause for my irritation. I still did not clearly know why, but it seemed like the cause was Tsukimori.

Why was I irritated by her?

Another question arose.

I chose to do a reset of my feelings and bring Usami her order because I thought I would only waste time if I got lost in a labyrinth of thoughts.

However, there was one discovery I made: a new kind of emotion towards Tsukimori was about to be born.

I didn't know the name of that emotion yet, though.

<noinclude>
{{Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 In The Café|In The Café]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Bitter Chocolate

2011-10-26T21:50:52Z

Andrewgr: removed extraneous "then"; used proper past tense of "weep"

==[Bitter Chocolate]==

I had to admit it: Youko Tsukimori was indeed a perfect girl.

It was naturally me who was assigned to mentor her, being in the same class and all. At first I was rather sour about that cumbersome task, but I soon learned that it's quite enjoyable to teach someone who's good at remembering things.

Only two weeks had passed since Tsukimori had started working at Victoria, but she was already able to do any work related to waiting the tables on her own, such as attending to the customers, taking their orders and operating the register.

In terms of handling the customers, she might have even surpassed anyone else in this café. Furthermore, thanks to the customers who would visit only to enjoy her in a waitress uniform, sales were on the rise, too.

The manager and the other employees were quite impressed with her abilities, while it was no surprise to me since I knew her from school.

What was a surprise, however, was that Tsukimori and Mirai-san were on very good terms. I would have been able to understand it if they had been like cat and dog, but in truth you could even say that they turned out to be a good match.

"I was convinced you wouldn't like her type of person," I addressed Mirai-san.

"It's the opposite. Women like Youko can't stand me."

Mirai-san flashed the kind of smile you would expect of the leader of some wicked organization that schemes to conquer the world.

"Why is that?"

"Conjurers don't like audience that sees through their tricks. And you see, the tricks of those women don't work on me." Indeed, Mirai-san's intuition was queerly sharp. "There's this gal in university who's quite popular with the guys because of such tricks. Well, once I was kinda pissed off by her attitude—okay, my mood had hit the rocks during that period in general—but anyway, I cut her down to size in front of all the others. And when I was finished with her, she wept and wept... such a pain."

"My condolences."

"Right? She always runs away right when she spots me ever since. As if ''I'' was the bad one!"

Mirai-san seemed pleased about having my assent, but my condolences naturally belonged to the poor young woman who had made Mirai-san her enemy.

"But Youko's nothing like that. She seems to be unfeigned, without any tricks or pretenses."

Mirai-san turned her gaze towards the tables where Tsukimori was serving the customers.

"I was keen to blow her cover, but no matter how fiercely I observe her, she shows no openings. Heh, at first I was excited about the arrival of a powerful opponent and was like, 'Don't think you can deceive me forever!', but—"

Mirai-san made a short pause to sneer.

"—Lately, I've come to think that this is how Youko really is."

I followed her gaze to Tsukimori.

Indeed, she was always dignified, so I couldn't even imagine her whining. Even with this cross-grained personality of mine, I considered that gleam of hers pure and not some trick.

She had even managed to tame the "beast". No wonder that the "humans" around her would be captivated by her.

"What I like most about her is definitely that she isn't scared of me," said Mirai-san, who then turned around to the kitchen and suddenly shouted: "SARUWATARI!"

"Y-Yes, ma'am!"

"Do your work properly!"

"I...I will! I will do it so properly!" cried Saruwatari-san, and moved even faster than before.

"See? Any other guy's like that, right?"

"Are you a devil?"

"You moron! It may not look like it, but Saruwari actually has a crush on me, you know?" Mirai-san tapped my forehead with her index finger. "Though I just don't have a thing for such timid guys."

"You ''are'' a devil."

I was speechless, only rubbing my forehead.

"Anyway, the point is I like her. Even if it's just some faked mask. It's my loss!"

"Is it as simple as that?"

"It is. However vicious Youko may turn out to be, I won't be able to dislike her so easily anymore. It's the same as my fondness of chocolate, which I can't stop though everyone babbles that eating too much isn't good for my health."

The self-proclaimed chocolate addict Mirai-san sat down on an edge of the counter, took a block chocolate out of her pocket and threw it in the air just to catch it with her healthily red tongue.

"My, that is bad manners Mirai-san! Don't always try to snack on chocolate when the shop manager is not watching. He told me that certain story about you, you know? Once, you collapsed because you wouldn't eat anything but chocolate," scolded Tsukimori, who had come over to forward an order, with the attitude of a class officer towards a delinquent.

"Speak of the devil!" countered Mirai-san in a daunting tone that sounded like nothing but a perfect example of delinquency.

"You were talking about me? Not badly I hope, ''right''?"

"Why, of course not. We were praising you, Youko."

"Very well, I will take your word for it this time."

In contrast to what they said, they both seemed to enjoy talking to each other.

"You like me, don't you?" asked Mirai-san out of the blue.

"Yes, I do," replied Tsukimori in a split second with a giggle. "You also like me, right?"

"Without saying." Another immediate reply. They looked almost like old friends. "See? That's what I was getting at."

"I see."

There were still some points that didn't make much sense to me, but I understood roughly what she wanted to say.

"—You really resemble each other in a way, huh," murmured Tsukimori suddenly.

Mirai-san and I looked at each other.

"Such an uncharming guy and I?"

"I'm not ''that'' frank, you know?"

Our denials were in sync.

"You don't flatter anyone, you don't go with the flow. 'You have your way', so to speak. I am actually quite jealous of that character trait of yours."

I paused for a moment before answering her, "Mirai-san is holier-than-thou to the core, while I simply take to going at my own pace. Unlike her, I am able to adapt and gladly follow superiors if necessary."

"I am always honest and not scheming like you," objected Mirai-san sharply.

"You ought to realize that sometimes the truth can hurt others more than a lie."

"You really are a cheeky fellow without any charm, Nonomiya."

"I don't need that from an indelicate bully like you!"

I sneered, whereupon Mirai-san stood up with glaring eyes.

"All right, Nonomiya!! You just overstepped your bounds! Let's take this outside! I'll bend that warped nature of yours into shape with my fists!"

Tsukimori, who had been watching us, suddenly started to giggle.

"You are like siblings."

"—Nonomiya, my brother?"

She let go of my collar and evaluated me from tip to toe with her gaze.

"Sis," I tried teasing her. To me it sounded like nothing but a Yakuza's way of addressing his female superior.

".........what a nightmare."

Whether it was because Tsukimori had spoiled her appetite for argument or because she was disgusted with the way I had called her, Mirai-san disappeared into the kitchen, holding her head.

"She may not look like it, but Mirai-san likes you, Nonomiya-kun," whispered Tsukimori. "I think she was actually fairly pleased that you called her 'sister'. I am sure she only escaped because she was embarrassed."

I gazed at her.

"What's the matter? Why that wondering face?"

"Even though you have spent much less time with Mirai-san than me, you seem to understand her pretty well."

"I have an eye for people. I knew we would get along well at first glance," Tsukimori told me, seeming very pleased with the compliment I had given her.

"But your eye for men needs some serious polishing."

Apparently, her mood ''was'' good; all I got in return for my cynic remark was a sugar-sweet smile.

"I really don't think so? You will surely become my dear life partner."

She skillfully put a cup of coffee onto the tray and headed with light steps towards a table.

I didn't intend to go along with her plans, so it was safe to assume that she had no foundation; but upon seeing her self-confident smile, I couldn't help but think that her words would come true.

Still, I had no plans of trusting her off-handedly like Mirai-san.

She wouldn't have stopped doubting Tsukimori so easily either, if she were in my position.

Because I knew about the murder recipe.

After Tsukimori started working at Victoria, Usami also became a frequent sight in the shop.

With her being very communicative, it didn't take long until she was well-liked by both the staff and the manager, and by now she was a proper regular. Thanks to that I was permanently on tenterhooks, afraid that Mister Kujirai might offer her a position.

"Hey, Nonomiya, Nonomiya, listen!"

Since she usually came after her club activities, she mostly arrived just before evening when the number of customers started to drop. She would then happily tell us about "that day's events".

"I was selected as a regular player for the next match!"

"Congratulations. Let me treat you to a drink to mark the occasion."

"Yay!" she shouted out so vigorously she almost jumped to her feet. "Um, in that case... can I ask for one more thing?"

She suddenly got flustered and peeked up at me with embarrassment. Her big, round eyes reminded me of a pygmy marmoset.

"If it's within my power."

"Can I take a photo of you?"

"Why? We see each other almost everyday. There's no point in specially taking a photo, is there?"

"Yes, there is! I want you in your garçon outfit!"

"I see." I pretended to ponder about it. "No."

"Why not! There should be no prob with it! It won't hurt!"

It was so amusing when she became angry and acted like a willful child.

"I'm not very fond of photographs and the like."

That was no lie. I meant it.

"But your garçon look has rarity value; it would be a shame, I tell you! Come on, just one!" she passionately tried to persuade me.

"Well, since you've finally become a regular player and want it so much—"

"Eh? You'll let me?"

Usami's eyes sparkled with expectations.

"—I'll refuse."

Which I gladly belied.

"EEH?! Why?!"

"Because I don't want to have my soul sucked out."

"That's a silly superstition!"

Teasing Usami was a life task of sorts for me. Because watching her reactions was like getting the crisp and shrill sound of a bell, I couldn't stop being mean to her.

"Geez! You miser!"

"Say what you want but my answer remains 'no'."

"I'll just take one secretly then..."

"As you just told the person in question, it's not going to be secretly at all."

"Take that!"

Usami adopted drastic measures: she pointed her mobile phone at me and tried to shoot. I instantaneously turned from her.

"Aaah! W-Why did you turn around?!"

"Taking photographs is prohibited in this establishment. If you do not abide by this rule, I will have to request that you leave," I explained in an official-sounding tone, whereupon Usami puffed up her cheeks and stowed her phone away into her bag, but not without hissing: "Miser!"

Accidentally a laugh escaped my lips.

"Cheer up, Usami. I can't consent to the photograph, but I'll treat you to dessert instead."

Her sour look moved me and made me want to spoil her. That's another form of carrot and stick, I guess.

"...an ice chocolate and a mango tart."

"Certainly," I answered her with the best smile I could produce and headed towards the kitchen to forward the order.

I couldn't keep my expression from loosening, which was only reasonable. Usami's straightforward reactions had a sort of stress-alleviating effect on me—probably because I had to deal with peculiar, to say the least, persons during my usual day.

"You're like a child that's playing with its favorite toy."

With her chin propped up on her hand, Mirai-san grinned lopsidedly.

"Why, I would never think of her as a toy!" I answered while arranging the bills after I had communicated the order to Saruwatari-san.

Naturally, Mirai-san with her sharp wits had already noticed that I was fond of Usami. I didn't mean to hide it anyway.

"But I would love to have a pet like her at home."

In my mind I pictured a pygmy marmoset trying its best to munch on a mango that was as large as itself.

"No big difference."

"At any rate, it's true that I'm quite fond of her."

"How rare for you to admit something that easily."

Mirai-san stared at me, surprised.

"It all depends on who it is about! Her straightforwardness causes me to be honest as well."

"Heh, great! Make her your girlfriend and have her fix that twisted personality of yours!"

Mirai-san laughed out loud, bending forward.

"That twisted personality you mention all the time would surely be twisted even more if ''you'' were my girlfriend," I thought without actually saying it.

"—That sounds quite realistic to me."

Before I knew it, Tsukimori was standing next to me.

"As far as I see, Chizuru is interested in you, too, Nonomiya-kun," said Tsukimori with that mature smile she was so good at.

"Oh? So she's not averse, either? I didn't know Nonomiya was such a lady-killer."

Mirai-san gazed curiously at Tsukimori. In my gaze, however, was nothing but suspicion.

What was she scheming?

Unlike Mirai-san, who didn't know that Tsukimori had asked me to go out with her, I completely failed to understand why she would encourage a relationship with Usami.

"Why don't you just go for her?"

Mirai-san didn't miss out on that delicious chance.

"It's not my place to decide on that. Or am I just ignorant and love involves only one person?"

"Hey, didn't Youko just say that your chances are good?"

My snappish words made Mirai-san frown.

"You're no better, either, Tsukimori. I don't appreciate that you're trying to spur us on without reason. Careless remarks like these are rude towards both Usami and me."

I realized that I was irritated. Not angered, but irritated. Not like fire, but like "smoldering embers".

"You are right, Nonomiya-kun. I wasn't supposed to say that. I am sorry."

Tsukimori readily admitted her mistake and bowed in apology.

"Er, yeah, sorry. I didn't expect you to be that serious about it," Mirai-san awkwardly scratched her head, following Tsukimori's example.

"...no, it's up to me to apologize. It's just that I'm not used to such talk."

I showed them some kind of self-deprecation, which was the best I could do to varnish over my irritation.

Unable to keep the conversation going, we shared a few seconds of silence.

Then Mirai-san lost interest and disappeared into the kitchen, seeking an outlet for her vexation: "Saruwatarii!!"

Tsukimori, however, had turned away from me and was standing still—an indecisive attitude that didn't match the image I had of her.

On my part, I was still uncomfortable, sensing a bitter aftertaste on my tongue even now that the conversation was over.

It wasn't irritation that originated from earnestness towards Usami as mentioned by Mirai-san.

Sure enough, a part of me disliked it when people rashly meddled in others' love affairs. However, such situations were common and nowhere near rare, and I would have been able to dodge or adapt respectively, hiding my feelings as I used to do so unhesitatingly until now.

Just now, however, I had disgraced myself by exposing my feelings, which was not like me at all. It was probably the first time I had ever had such an experience.

Why was I so irritated? It was a nasty feeling; while I knew that it was there, I didn't know what the cause was.

At that moment, I heard a murmur.

"...I am sorry," whispered Tsukimori with a tiny, sore voice that was easily drowned out by the ado in the shop. I could not see her face as her back was still facing me, but I somehow sensed that her words weren't an "apology" but rather "remorse".

I never would have thought that Tsukimori regretted her words that much. Concurrently to surprise, I also experienced a strong feeling of pacification.

I had found the cause for my irritation. I still did not clearly know why, but it seemed like the cause was Tsukimori.

Why was I irritated by her?

Another question arose.

I chose to do a reset of my feelings and bring Usami her order because I thought I would only waste time if I got lost in a labyrinth of thoughts.

However, there was one discovery I made: a new kind of emotion towards Tsukimori was about to be born.

I didn't know the name of that emotion yet, though.

<noinclude>
{{Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 In The Café|In The Café]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 Bitter Chocolate

2011-10-26T21:47:34Z

Andrewgr: correct typo

==[Bitter Chocolate]==

I had to admit it: Youko Tsukimori was indeed a perfect girl.

It was naturally me who was assigned to mentor her, being in the same class and all. At first I was rather sour about that cumbersome task, but I soon learned that it's quite enjoyable to teach someone who's good at remembering things.

Only two weeks had passed since Tsukimori had started working at Victoria, but she was already able to do any work related to waiting the tables on her own, such as attending to the customers, taking their orders and operating the register.

In terms of handling the customers, she might have even surpassed anyone else in this café. Furthermore, thanks to the customers who would visit only to enjoy her in a waitress uniform, sales were on the rise, too.

The manager and the other employees were quite impressed with her abilities, while it was no surprise to me since I knew her from school.

What was a surprise, however, was that Tsukimori and Mirai-san were on very good terms. I would have been able to understand it if they had been like cat and dog, but in truth you could even say that they turned out to be a good match.

"I was convinced you wouldn't like her type of person," I addressed Mirai-san.

"It's the opposite. Women like Youko can't stand me."

Mirai-san flashed the kind of smile you would expect of the leader of some wicked organization that schemes to conquer the world.

"Why is that?"

"Conjurers don't like audience that sees through their tricks. And you see, the tricks of those women don't work on me." Indeed, Mirai-san's intuition was queerly sharp. "There's this gal in university who's quite popular with the guys because of such tricks. Well, once I was kinda pissed off by her attitude—okay, my mood had hit the rocks during that period in general—but anyway, I then cut her down to size in front of all the others. And when I was finished with her, she weeped and weeped... such a pain."

"My condolences."

"Right? She always runs away right when she spots me ever since. As if ''I'' was the bad one!"

Mirai-san seemed pleased about having my assent, but my condolences naturally belonged to the poor young woman who had made Mirai-san her enemy.

"But Youko's nothing like that. She seems to be unfeigned, without any tricks or pretenses."

Mirai-san turned her gaze towards the tables where Tsukimori was serving the customers.

"I was keen to blow her cover, but no matter how fiercely I observe her, she shows no openings. Heh, at first I was excited about the arrival of a powerful opponent and was like, 'Don't think you can deceive me forever!', but—"

Mirai-san made a short pause to sneer.

"—Lately, I've come to think that this is how Youko really is."

I followed her gaze to Tsukimori.

Indeed, she was always dignified, so I couldn't even imagine her whining. Even with this cross-grained personality of mine, I considered that gleam of hers pure and not some trick.

She had even managed to tame the "beast". No wonder that the "humans" around her would be captivated by her.

"What I like most about her is definitely that she isn't scared of me," said Mirai-san, who then turned around to the kitchen and suddenly shouted: "SARUWATARI!"

"Y-Yes, ma'am!"

"Do your work properly!"

"I...I will! I will do it so properly!" cried Saruwatari-san, and moved even faster than before.

"See? Any other guy's like that, right?"

"Are you a devil?"

"You moron! It may not look like it, but Saruwari actually has a crush on me, you know?" Mirai-san tapped my forehead with her index finger. "Though I just don't have a thing for such timid guys."

"You ''are'' a devil."

I was speechless, only rubbing my forehead.

"Anyway, the point is I like her. Even if it's just some faked mask. It's my loss!"

"Is it as simple as that?"

"It is. However vicious Youko may turn out to be, I won't be able to dislike her so easily anymore. It's the same as my fondness of chocolate, which I can't stop though everyone babbles that eating too much isn't good for my health."

The self-proclaimed chocolate addict Mirai-san sat down on an edge of the counter, took a block chocolate out of her pocket and threw it in the air just to catch it with her healthily red tongue.

"My, that is bad manners Mirai-san! Don't always try to snack on chocolate when the shop manager is not watching. He told me that certain story about you, you know? Once, you collapsed because you wouldn't eat anything but chocolate," scolded Tsukimori, who had come over to forward an order, with the attitude of a class officer towards a delinquent.

"Speak of the devil!" countered Mirai-san in a daunting tone that sounded like nothing but a perfect example of delinquency.

"You were talking about me? Not badly I hope, ''right''?"

"Why, of course not. We were praising you, Youko."

"Very well, I will take your word for it this time."

In contrast to what they said, they both seemed to enjoy talking to each other.

"You like me, don't you?" asked Mirai-san out of the blue.

"Yes, I do," replied Tsukimori in a split second with a giggle. "You also like me, right?"

"Without saying." Another immediate reply. They looked almost like old friends. "See? That's what I was getting at."

"I see."

There were still some points that didn't make much sense to me, but I understood roughly what she wanted to say.

"—You really resemble each other in a way, huh," murmured Tsukimori suddenly.

Mirai-san and I looked at each other.

"Such an uncharming guy and I?"

"I'm not ''that'' frank, you know?"

Our denials were in sync.

"You don't flatter anyone, you don't go with the flow. 'You have your way', so to speak. I am actually quite jealous of that character trait of yours."

I paused for a moment before answering her, "Mirai-san is holier-than-thou to the core, while I simply take to going at my own pace. Unlike her, I am able to adapt and gladly follow superiors if necessary."

"I am always honest and not scheming like you," objected Mirai-san sharply.

"You ought to realize that sometimes the truth can hurt others more than a lie."

"You really are a cheeky fellow without any charm, Nonomiya."

"I don't need that from an indelicate bully like you!"

I sneered, whereupon Mirai-san stood up with glaring eyes.

"All right, Nonomiya!! You just overstepped your bounds! Let's take this outside! I'll bend that warped nature of yours into shape with my fists!"

Tsukimori, who had been watching us, suddenly started to giggle.

"You are like siblings."

"—Nonomiya, my brother?"

She let go of my collar and evaluated me from tip to toe with her gaze.

"Sis," I tried teasing her. To me it sounded like nothing but a Yakuza's way of addressing his female superior.

".........what a nightmare."

Whether it was because Tsukimori had spoiled her appetite for argument or because she was disgusted with the way I had called her, Mirai-san disappeared into the kitchen, holding her head.

"She may not look like it, but Mirai-san likes you, Nonomiya-kun," whispered Tsukimori. "I think she was actually fairly pleased that you called her 'sister'. I am sure she only escaped because she was embarrassed."

I gazed at her.

"What's the matter? Why that wondering face?"

"Even though you have spent much less time with Mirai-san than me, you seem to understand her pretty well."

"I have an eye for people. I knew we would get along well at first glance," Tsukimori told me, seeming very pleased with the compliment I had given her.

"But your eye for men needs some serious polishing."

Apparently, her mood ''was'' good; all I got in return for my cynic remark was a sugar-sweet smile.

"I really don't think so? You will surely become my dear life partner."

She skillfully put a cup of coffee onto the tray and headed with light steps towards a table.

I didn't intend to go along with her plans, so it was safe to assume that she had no foundation; but upon seeing her self-confident smile, I couldn't help but think that her words would come true.

Still, I had no plans of trusting her off-handedly like Mirai-san.

She wouldn't have stopped doubting Tsukimori so easily either, if she were in my position.

Because I knew about the murder recipe.

After Tsukimori started working at Victoria, Usami also became a frequent sight in the shop.

With her being very communicative, it didn't take long until she was well-liked by both the staff and the manager, and by now she was a proper regular. Thanks to that I was permanently on tenterhooks, afraid that Mister Kujirai might offer her a position.

"Hey, Nonomiya, Nonomiya, listen!"

Since she usually came after her club activities, she mostly arrived just before evening when the number of customers started to drop. She would then happily tell us about "that day's events".

"I was selected as a regular player for the next match!"

"Congratulations. Let me treat you to a drink to mark the occasion."

"Yay!" she shouted out so vigorously she almost jumped to her feet. "Um, in that case... can I ask for one more thing?"

She suddenly got flustered and peeked up at me with embarrassment. Her big, round eyes reminded me of a pygmy marmoset.

"If it's within my power."

"Can I take a photo of you?"

"Why? We see each other almost everyday. There's no point in specially taking a photo, is there?"

"Yes, there is! I want you in your garçon outfit!"

"I see." I pretended to ponder about it. "No."

"Why not! There should be no prob with it! It won't hurt!"

It was so amusing when she became angry and acted like a willful child.

"I'm not very fond of photographs and the like."

That was no lie. I meant it.

"But your garçon look has rarity value; it would be a shame, I tell you! Come on, just one!" she passionately tried to persuade me.

"Well, since you've finally become a regular player and want it so much—"

"Eh? You'll let me?"

Usami's eyes sparkled with expectations.

"—I'll refuse."

Which I gladly belied.

"EEH?! Why?!"

"Because I don't want to have my soul sucked out."

"That's a silly superstition!"

Teasing Usami was a life task of sorts for me. Because watching her reactions was like getting the crisp and shrill sound of a bell, I couldn't stop being mean to her.

"Geez! You miser!"

"Say what you want but my answer remains 'no'."

"I'll just take one secretly then..."

"As you just told the person in question, it's not going to be secretly at all."

"Take that!"

Usami adopted drastic measures: she pointed her mobile phone at me and tried to shoot. I instantaneously turned from her.

"Aaah! W-Why did you turn around?!"

"Taking photographs is prohibited in this establishment. If you do not abide by this rule, I will have to request that you leave," I explained in an official-sounding tone, whereupon Usami puffed up her cheeks and stowed her phone away into her bag, but not without hissing: "Miser!"

Accidentally a laugh escaped my lips.

"Cheer up, Usami. I can't consent to the photograph, but I'll treat you to dessert instead."

Her sour look moved me and made me want to spoil her. That's another form of carrot and stick, I guess.

"...an ice chocolate and a mango tart."

"Certainly," I answered her with the best smile I could produce and headed towards the kitchen to forward the order.

I couldn't keep my expression from loosening, which was only reasonable. Usami's straightforward reactions had a sort of stress-alleviating effect on me—probably because I had to deal with peculiar, to say the least, persons during my usual day.

"You're like a child that's playing with its favorite toy."

With her chin propped up on her hand, Mirai-san grinned lopsidedly.

"Why, I would never think of her as a toy!" I answered while arranging the bills after I had communicated the order to Saruwatari-san.

Naturally, Mirai-san with her sharp wits had already noticed that I was fond of Usami. I didn't mean to hide it anyway.

"But I would love to have a pet like her at home."

In my mind I pictured a pygmy marmoset trying its best to munch on a mango that was as large as itself.

"No big difference."

"At any rate, it's true that I'm quite fond of her."

"How rare for you to admit something that easily."

Mirai-san stared at me, surprised.

"It all depends on who it is about! Her straightforwardness causes me to be honest as well."

"Heh, great! Make her your girlfriend and have her fix that twisted personality of yours!"

Mirai-san laughed out loud, bending forward.

"That twisted personality you mention all the time would surely be twisted even more if ''you'' were my girlfriend," I thought without actually saying it.

"—That sounds quite realistic to me."

Before I knew it, Tsukimori was standing next to me.

"As far as I see, Chizuru is interested in you, too, Nonomiya-kun," said Tsukimori with that mature smile she was so good at.

"Oh? So she's not averse, either? I didn't know Nonomiya was such a lady-killer."

Mirai-san gazed curiously at Tsukimori. In my gaze, however, was nothing but suspicion.

What was she scheming?

Unlike Mirai-san, who didn't know that Tsukimori had asked me to go out with her, I completely failed to understand why she would encourage a relationship with Usami.

"Why don't you just go for her?"

Mirai-san didn't miss out on that delicious chance.

"It's not my place to decide on that. Or am I just ignorant and love involves only one person?"

"Hey, didn't Youko just say that your chances are good?"

My snappish words made Mirai-san frown.

"You're no better, either, Tsukimori. I don't appreciate that you're trying to spur us on without reason. Careless remarks like these are rude towards both Usami and me."

I realized that I was irritated. Not angered, but irritated. Not like fire, but like "smoldering embers".

"You are right, Nonomiya-kun. I wasn't supposed to say that. I am sorry."

Tsukimori readily admitted her mistake and bowed in apology.

"Er, yeah, sorry. I didn't expect you to be that serious about it," Mirai-san awkwardly scratched her head, following Tsukimori's example.

"...no, it's up to me to apologize. It's just that I'm not used to such talk."

I showed them some kind of self-deprecation, which was the best I could do to varnish over my irritation.

Unable to keep the conversation going, we shared a few seconds of silence.

Then Mirai-san lost interest and disappeared into the kitchen, seeking an outlet for her vexation: "Saruwatarii!!"

Tsukimori, however, had turned away from me and was standing still—an indecisive attitude that didn't match the image I had of her.

On my part, I was still uncomfortable, sensing a bitter aftertaste on my tongue even now that the conversation was over.

It wasn't irritation that originated from earnestness towards Usami as mentioned by Mirai-san.

Sure enough, a part of me disliked it when people rashly meddled in others' love affairs. However, such situations were common and nowhere near rare, and I would have been able to dodge or adapt respectively, hiding my feelings as I used to do so unhesitatingly until now.

Just now, however, I had disgraced myself by exposing my feelings, which was not like me at all. It was probably the first time I had ever had such an experience.

Why was I so irritated? It was a nasty feeling; while I knew that it was there, I didn't know what the cause was.

At that moment, I heard a murmur.

"...I am sorry," whispered Tsukimori with a tiny, sore voice that was easily drowned out by the ado in the shop. I could not see her face as her back was still facing me, but I somehow sensed that her words weren't an "apology" but rather "remorse".

I never would have thought that Tsukimori regretted her words that much. Concurrently to surprise, I also experienced a strong feeling of pacification.

I had found the cause for my irritation. I still did not clearly know why, but it seemed like the cause was Tsukimori.

Why was I irritated by her?

Another question arose.

I chose to do a reset of my feelings and bring Usami her order because I thought I would only waste time if I got lost in a labyrinth of thoughts.

However, there was one discovery I made: a new kind of emotion towards Tsukimori was about to be born.

I didn't know the name of that emotion yet, though.

<noinclude>
{{Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 In The Café|In The Café]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Sweet Nightmare|Sweet Nightmare]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 In The Café

2011-10-26T21:44:20Z

Andrewgr: Make it clear who's talking

==[In The Café]==

All of a sudden Tsukimori came to my desk and said, with a smile as warm as sunbeams shining through the leaves of a tree and a voice as soft as a gentle summer breeze:

"Shall we go then, Nonomiya-kun?"

Time stopped in the noisy classroom. At least, my train of thought did.

Everyone suspended what he or she was doing and looked over to us. Usami was the first to regain time.

"...eh? Youko-san? Are you tagging along with Nonomiya? Why? Eeh?"

Her bewilderment made her look like one of those automatons that jump out of striking clocks every hour.

"I wanted to pay the café Nonomiya-kun works at a visit since I heard it's very comfortable there. And as you know, I have been quite busy lately, so I was a little tired and thought about relaxing there while enjoying a cup of tea. Well, that's why ''I asked'' Nonomiya-kun!"

Tsukimori was obviously taking into consideration that we were being watched by our classmates.

"Is that true, Nonomiya?"

I had already expected that I would be the next target to be questioned.

"It is."

Thus, I somehow managed not to reveal my discontent.

"Maybe I should join you..."

I almost blacked out upon hearing her murmur. Tsukimori alone was already enough trouble—I couldn't manage both of them at the same time.

"Aren't your club activities waiting for you?"

Usami was in the volleyball club. She was gifted with strength in her arms that didn't suit her small body: her spikes made the guys look old. I remembered all too well how relieved I was to be on the same team after witnessing her spike during PE.

"I-I'll skip!"

"Don't. Didn't you say only recently that you were on the brink of becoming a regular player? It would be foolish to skip your club activities during such an important period."

Usami pressed her lips into a line and grumbled with a frown.

"Let's go together some other time, Chizuru. I will memorize where the café is for you, today. Okay?"

Tsukimori admonished her gently like a caring sister, whereupon Usami obediently nodded, "Okay."

One problem solved. I then went on getting rid of the remaining issues.

"It's really just you who's coming, right? If the whole bunch were to come along, I'd have to refuse because that would only cause the café trouble."

That was a prompt. I indicated to Tsukimori that I would only give my consent if she cleared that condition.

"Don't worry, our classmates are so kind, they would never cause anyone trouble," she ensured with a ladylike smile, "See you tomorrow, everyone."

She elegantly waved her hand at her classmates.

They would have jumped at that chance for sure. The guys, among them Kamogawa, and the girls who admired Tsukimori put their disappointment clearly on display. But not one of them would even think of betraying angelic Youko Tsukimori's trust.

But equally, I was not capable enough to do something against the situation she had induced. I had no choice but to unwillingly go along with her.

Tsukimori walked with light steps towards the front gate.

"What are you up to?" I asked her delicate back, without hiding my bad mood.

Tsukimori turned around, making her long hair flutter in the wind.

"I am so curious about the café you work at," she said, without hiding her good mood.

"Answer me! You should know that I don't like standing out."

"Which is why I tried to prevent a commotion, didn't I?"

"That doesn't change the fact that we attracted attention."

"Well, tough luck."

"And whose fault is that...?" I was irritated by her out-and-out undaunted behavior. "Who told you that I work at a café anyway?"

"I heard it from rumors!"

"Don't lie."

It was well-known that I work part-time somewhere, but I hadn't told anyone at school that I was working at a café.

"What are you after?"

"What do you think I am, Nonomiya-kun? It is not strange at all to desire to learn more about the person in my heart, is it? This is what you call a pure girl's heart."

"You claim to be pure girl? Laughable. Let me assert this for you: you are nowhere near as harmless as that."

I sneered.

"You know, looking so mature can be a real bother at such times. I am still just a seventeen-year-old girl. Besides, I have only recently lost my father, so I think you ought to be gentler to me, Nonomiya-kun," pouted Tsukimori. I was surprised that she could make such childish expressions, too.

But that was as far as it went. Of course I felt sorry for her, but in the end it was still none of my business.

"See you tomorrow."

I accelerated my pace and put some distance between me and Tsukimori.

"Where are you going? There's the back gate."

"Unlike you, I commute by bicycle and not by train. If you can keep up with my speed, I shall take the special trouble and guide you to the café?" I was deliberately cold. I couldn't be bothered to adjust to others. And I cared even less to have someone enter my territory without authorization. 

"Yes, let's go with that. I just hope my back will not hurt from it, but well, I have always wanted do that once."

However, Tsukimori was even less harmless than I had expected. Before I knew it, she was walking next to me.

"...what are you thinking?"

"I have always wanted to do that at least once! Riding a bicycle à deux."
"When did I say I'd let you?"

"Don't worry. I should not be too heavy."

"That wasn't the question."

I was annoyed. As she showed no restraint I decided on saying my piece without restraint as well.

"I admit that I may be supposed to be gentler to you as you've just lost your father. However, I don't feel like dancing to your tune like the others, not in the least. Not everyone is considerate towards you, keep that in mind. At least now that I know your true nature, I might still feel sympathy but I am certainly not favorable towards you," I rebuked her.

"Mmm! That's how my Nonomiya-kun has to be," Tsukimori nodded strongly, making a somewhat contented face. "I love this unashamed attitude."

My words had achieved the exact opposite effect. Wanting to put her off, I accidentally attracted her all the more.

Seeing my loss for words, she showed me her occasional big-sister-like smile.

"Won't you give me a chance? I have realized by now that my confession yesterday was overhasty! Just like you don't know how I really am, I don't know you well yet, either. I think it is necessary for both of us to deepen our mutual understanding. It's not too late to make a decision after coming to know each other better, right?"

Her opinion was fair enough.

But when I looked back at what had happened so far, I didn't feel like believing her words blindly.

I peeked into Tsukimori's eyes.

What was she thinking?

She did not avoid my glance in the slightest. In her big, almond-shaped eyes I could clearly see my own reflection.

It was I who gave in at last. I released her from my gaze and mounted my bicycle.

"—Get on."

"Thank you!"

I heard her cheerful voice.

After she had gotten on the carrier, I took off. She was light, just as she had said herself.

"Promise me that you won't do anything that would bring me into focus anymore like today."

"I'll do my best."

"No, not just your best, promise it."

"Nonomiya-kun, the wind feels so pleasant. Riding a bicycle together is even better than I thought."

I spotted our reflection in a street mirror. Tsukimori was holding her skirt down with her right hand, wrapping her left arm around me, and smiling dazzlingly while watching the town's scenery passing us by.

Completely unable to complain any more to a girl who entrusted her body to me, I just answered: "...Lucky you."

I kept on riding the bike while channeling all my unvoiced discontent and displeasure into pushing the pedals.

Be it because of envy or jealousy, I sensed some intensive gazes from other students on their way home. It was clear whose fault it was since I had never experienced anything of this kind when cycling alone.

I was riding a bicycle with ''Youko Tsukimori'' on the back.

This was one of those sweet moments that are worthy of being called a memory of adolescence. I, in the midst of this period of life, was probably supposed to pride myself on such an event that anyone would envy me for.

To tell the truth, I was proud enough to have a certain sense of superiority, believing that there was no one else who had something as noble as her on his carrier.

Well, this only lasted for the short while during which I forgot about her troublesome personality and the murder recipe.

During the following hours I would definitely turn into her toy, so I needed to be emotionally prepared.

I had accepted Tsukimori's request. The reason was simple: I was interested in her.

Apart from that, call it a property　of mine or just a preference: I enjoyed these thrilling conversations with her.

I changed into my waiter uniform in the staff room; I put on narrow black slacks, did up the buttons of my white shirt and the black vest above, slipped into a pair of wing tip leather shoes and lastly I wound a rather long apron around my hips. After checking my appearance in front of the mirror, just to be sure, I headed to the kitchen.

The instant I entered the kitchen, my nose was tickled by the aromatic fragrance of coffee beans—a smell I was fond of.

The reason why I had chosen to work in this British-style café "Victoria" was, as a matter of fact, because the best coffee in the vicinity was served here.

Upon spotting me, my colleagues greeted me.

"Mister Kujirai?" I addressed the broad back of a man who was grinding coffee with a hand mill. The sturdy bespectacled addressee turned around with a warm smile. I continued, "I would be in charge of waiting the tables today, but may I change to the kitchen staff?"

"What's the matter?"

"It's a personal one, I'm afraid, but to tell the truth, a classmate of mine has come today."

"Eh? Why would you want to change your post then?"

"Well, I wouldn't be able to keep my classmate company. And besides, isn't it quite embarrassing to be watched while working?"

As if I would let her watch! I knew that my resistance was childish, but this was my last stand after having failed miserably at turning her down.

There was someone apart from the shop manager who reacted sharply to my words.

"Hey, Nonomiya! Is it a guy or a gal?" asked a woman who was clothed like a pastry cook and was putting some fruit on a parfait right beside me. "If it's a guy I'll switch with you. As long as he's my type, of course!"

The whole staff grimaced as if they had taken bitter medicine when they realized that Mirai-san's ''bad habit'' had appeared again.

Her full name was Mirai Samejima. Mirai-san was the oldest face among the people at Victoria, and even the manager took his hat off to her.

According to her, she was still in university, but looking at how she behaved more important than the manager on some days—no, make that "everyday"—she gave me the impression of being older than that.

[[Image:Gekkou-075.jpg|thumb]]

"Sorry to let you down, Mirai-san: it's a girl!"

"Hmph. Well, the fact that you brought a gal along gets me interested just as much."

With skillful movements Mirai-san quickly finished the parfait and, after throwing a piece of block chocolate into her mouth, tripped to the counter from where she had an overview of all the tables.

"Who is it? Come on, spill it."

She scowled over the counter into the shop while rolling the piece of chocolate in her mouth. The other staff members, too, didn't miss the chance and scanned the café from behind her.

I was hoping someone would remonstrate with them about their snoopy behavior, but even the one who was in the position to do so—the shop manager—was peeking with a face gleaming with curiosity.

Giving up, I admitted: "It's her," and pointed at Tsukimori who had taken a seat at the window and was sitting there like an unworldly, well-educated lady.

A cheer arose among the staff; the positive reaction of the guys was so blatant that I would have felt like an idiot if I had claimed that I had expected it.

"Damn! What a beauty! Way too good for you, Nonomiya, that's for sure!"

Mirai-san was apparently irritated with something and ran her iron fist into the pit of my stomach.

"...does anybody know why I deserve to be punched?"

My trembling question was only met with pitiful glances.

"You always act as if you didn't care two figs about love, but you do your thing in the background, huh, you sneaking lech!"

Apparently, Mirai-san mistook Tsukimori and me for lovers.

"...Mirai-chan and her new boyfriend haven't been getting along lately, you know," the manager whispered into my ear.

"So it's only a matter of time until they split up, I suppose?"

"...Probably," he nodded after backing off again.

Mirai-san could be categorized as pretty if she kept quiet. As a matter of fact, she was often approached by the other sex. However, unfortunately her looks were spoiled by her unyielding personality, which was also the reason why her relationships never lasted long. I knew of none, at least.

"Mhh!? Saruwatari!? Gotten all lovestruck or what?!"

"I-I haven't! I'm not lovestruck or anything!"

"Then you better stay that way!"

Today's sacrifice was Saruwatari-san. Mirai-san's sharp kick landed straight in his buttocks.

At times when she didn't get along with her boyfriend or when she broke up with one, her mood would take a free fall.

And we at Victoria just called that ill-humored Mirai-san "the beast". Unfortunately though, there was no hero in disguise at our café. As soon as the beast went berserk, there was no solution but to weather the storm.

"Mister Kujirai, I'm off waiting the tables."

"O-Okay, good luck."

Discretion is the better part of valor after all.

The kitchen resounded with the cries of the poor man who had become the prey of the beast.

Our café was not too big: there were eight tables and six counter seats. The staff consisted of a total of 5 people, two of which attended the customers while the others worked in the kitchen. But I very much liked that relaxed and comfortable atmosphere.

The mood of this British-style café was supported by appropriate antique tables and chairs. The various well-chosen decorations were apparently selected by the manager's British wife. Apropos, the name of the café was taken from his wife's first name.

With Victoria being located on the first floor of a multi-tenant building near the station and having an interior that should please the fairer sex, there were comparatively many young women like office ladies or college students.

When I came to take her order, Tsukimori scrutinized me from head to toe.

"Your garçon outfit looks handsome."

"Waiter" would have been the proper way to address the staff here, considering that it was designed in a British style, but "garçon" is apparently more common here in Japan.

Since I judged it to be too much a trifle to correct, I only thanked her casually with a smile, "Thanks," and added, "and a café goes well with you."

Tsukimori smiled back at me and replied "Thank you."

I was quite honest. A beautiful girl in a café always makes for a good picture.

"The staff are quite lively, aren't they?"

She moved her gaze towards the kitchen.

"You could hear the commotion from here? That sure is a problem for a shop in the service industry."

I placed a glass of water and a wet towel on the table.

"But it looks fun."

"I wonder about that; some even start crying once in a while. At any rate, I have confidence in our coffee. And none of our dishes are half bad."

"I see. I would like a cup of that good coffee then. And please add your recommended confectionery to the order."

"Then how about our recommended blend plus the owner's hand-made apple pie?"

Since Tsukimori nodded, I bowed respectfully and said "Certainly."

I forwarded the order to the kitchen staff.

"You sure are an unfriendly guy."

Mirai-san was there making a frown instead of food.

"You think so? Actually I am trying to be more amiable when I attend guests, though."

"When does that happen? To me, there's no difference. Seriously, what does she like about a guy like you?"

Her eyebrow raised, she sceptically mustered Tsukimori.

"I forgot to mention, but she is not my girlfriend."

"She isn't?"

"No. Just a classmate."

"Then tell me what a beauty and mere classmate wants from you."

"It's not me, it's the café. Apparently she is a fan of cafés."

Since there was no merit at all in telling her the truth, I just made something up.

"That's all? Boring."

"As always, you are so self-centered it's almost refreshing. I'm dead sure you would have been irritated even if she was my lover."

"It's refreshing because I'm honest! To begin with, I think there must be something wrong with those that are delighted about other people's happiness. Every one of them is either a hypocrite or just scheming something."

"A lovely opinion loaded with prejudice, I have to say."

I wasn't as dismissive as I may have appeared, though. In fact, in my mind I even had to agree with her–is it because of that warped personality of mine?

I felt inclined to ask her, who was "honest" by her own judgment and "erratic" by everyone else's, for her opinion regarding a certain question.

"Mirai-san, may I ask you something?"

"Mh? What is it?"

"What do you think about someone who doesn't grieve over their misfortune?"

"Sounds fishy to me," she answered quick as a shot. "Misfortunes are called that because you they make you sad, right? If you don't get sad, then you can't call it a misfortune."

"I see," this time I actually put my agreement into words.

I darted a sidelong glance at Tsukimori.

Tired of waiting or just interested in the café's decoration, she was looking around the shop. Apparently, the white ceramic cat and black glass cat set was to her liking; she stood up and examined it up close.

Who in this café would have guessed that she was in fact a hapless girl who had lost her father only recently?

I reckoned nobody.

One could never observe a stirring of extreme emotions in her. She would always appear calm and mature.

I didn't know whether she purposely controlled her feelings or just simply wasn't the type of person to show them, but she didn't look sad ''at all'' to me.

Of course, it wasn't unthinkable that she just didn't want to unsettle the people around her and was thus desperately hiding her sadness. Or that might actually be the normal reaction of a girl after such a mishap. After all, the deceased wouldn't return, and mourning forever can't be called very healthy either.

But those are just pieces of theory. Is it really possible to deal with one's feelings in such a short time? Especially if it's sadness?

I recalled Mirai-san's words.

Indeed. It seemed fishy.

The dessert was able to satisfy Tsukimori's tastes.

"It's delicious," she praised while happily finishing up her coffee and apple pie without leaving anything over.

I headed to her table to clear up.

"Has everything been to your liking?" I asked, whereupon Tsukimori darted a discontented glance at me.

"Are you telling me to leave?"

"I see you are quick on the uptake."

"I really like this café."

She flashed a smile as if she would start to hum any moment.

"Aha. Pleased to hear that. But don't forget that there are lots of different cafés in the world. You ought to try them out as well."

"I really like this café," repeated Tsukimori with exactly the same smile and exactly the same words.

"I see sometimes you aren't quick on the uptake," I mostly repeated myself as well.

Suddenly Tsukimori stood up and walked further into the shop, apparently towards the kitchen. When I followed in wonder, she was giving the staff a natural greeting and smiling like a blooming flower.

"Pleased to meet you."

It was obvious at a glance that her rosy greeting got the staff flustered. Apparently all of them were quite excited about her. Well, except for Mirai-san who remained unimpressed.

"I am Youko Tsukimori, a classmate of Nonomiya-kun's," she introduced herself with polite manners.

"Ah, yes, Nonomiya-kun told us," answered the manager respectfully despite being way older than her.

"I have to say this is such an adorable little café."

"Thank you very much!"

The manager blushed slightly, moved by her radiant smile.

"I am so jealous of everyone—"

The staff looked at her in surprise. A girl, who seemed to have anything one could be jealous of, was jealous of them.

"—Because you have the privilege to work at such a wonderful café."

Youko Tsukimori looked plainly stunning, set aflame in the twilight.  Although that was probably due to the backlight from the sunset. In that very moment, everyone was fascinated by her exceptional aura.

"I can't even imagine what bliss it would be to work at such a wonderful place."

Being the person in this room that had the most resistance against her, I smiled wryly at her star-like attitude. I also found that she had gone over the top with that exorbitant exaggeration.

However, the manager's next words erased the smile on my lips.

"...um, Tsukimori-san, you said?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to work here?"

"Mister Kujirai—"

I couldn't keep silent. I wanted to keep him from committing a grave mistake. Faust, you are bargaining with Mephistopheles!

However, someone seized my shoulder and held me back. The smell of chocolate was in the air.

"Just watch," Mirai-san said with a mischievous smile. Here we had another devil.

"Err, actually, there is a vacant post at the moment. And since you are Nonomiya-kun's classmate, we don't have to worry about your background. So, if you'd like, we would gladly welcome you, Tsukimori-san."

The other staff members nodded their heads in agreement, too.

It was just like group hypnosis. They must have been mesmerized by the devil and lost their minds.

"I am really happy about your offer, but... can you really make do with me? To tell you the truth, I have never worked anywhere before," answered Tsukimori hesitatingly after wavering for a short while.

"No no, don't worry! Everyone has to begin somewhere. Besides, I'm positive that you, as someone with outstanding manners, are suited for this kind of business!"

Sure, her acceptance among the customers would be outstanding! They can only see her superficial side after all.

"I'll gladly accept your offer then if you have so much confidence in me," replied Tsukimori with a bright smile.

Everyone welcomed her warmly with a smile as well. I was the only one who made a sour face, while feeling awfully removed from that ring of blessings.

Because I knew better.

I knew that a bold and determined character lurked beneath her surface, which showed only a beautiful girl of excellent character who was thus loved by everyone.

To make things worse, bright Tsukimori was well aware of her own attractiveness. And just now I had learned that she also knew how to use it correctly.

"Why are men just so weak against pretty girls?" whispered Mirai-san into my ear after she had pulled me by the shoulder, the counter between us.

"A good question. After all, the guys in this café are all 'weak' against you as well," I answered casually.

"It feels just wrong when you're giving compliments. But it's no bad feeling. Let me pet your head as a reward."

Mirai-san's palm approached my head, but I refused gloomily. "I'm not in the mood. Please don't confuse me any further."

"No need to be reserved! If you want, I may even give you one piece of my chocolate?"

"Are you okay with it? Aren't you against the employment of Tsukimori?"

"You want me to object, don't you?"

"Well, only your objection would be able to put an end to this welcoming mood."

"Can't be bothered. There's no reason to object."

"Why?"

I was surprised that Mirai-san would allow such a farce.

"Because it's damn funny to see you protest so blatantly when you act so cold usually!!"

Mirai-san cackled.

"...you do realize how awful your personality is?"

"You're worse off than I am, right? If my intuition doesn't fail me, Tsukimori isn't the type of woman a helpless guy like you could handle."

"Doesn't bother me. I don't plan on making a move on her."

"''You'' may think so, but what about her?"

Mirai-san narrowed her eyes and peeked searchingly into my face from close up.

"No use punching me, for your information."

"Yeah yeah. Looking forward to the next few days."

Without caring about my strong rebuff, Mirai-san waved her hand and toddled back into the kitchen.

It felt like it was just a matter of time until she would get wind of our odd relationship—a woman's intuition?

I told myself that I had to make sure Tsukimori wouldn't say any unnecessary things to Mirai-san.

"I work here now."

The girl in question, Tsukimori, approached me merrily in spite of all the headaches she was causing me.

"It's still not too late. Won't you think it over again?"

My reply was cold, but my heart was colder.

"Thank you for worrying about me. But since the manager was so kind to offer me this position, I will try my best!"

She cutely clenched her fist, full of confidence.

"I'm not worrying. I am bothered."

"I am looking forward to working with you, colleague."

Tsukimori's smile hadn't cracked even once.

Mirai-san had mentioned that I was not someone who could handle her.

I found myself right in the course of experiencing just how spot-on she was.

The next morning in the classroom.

All of a sudden, Tsukimori came to my desk and said with a smile as warm as sunbeams shining through the leaves of a tree and a voice as soft as a gentle summer breeze to Usami:

"I have been employed at the café Nonomiya-kun works at."

Time stopped in the noisy classroom. At least, Usami did—like a clock whose battery had run dry.

"...eh? Youko-san? You work together with Nonomiya? Why? Eeh?"

Her bewilderment made her look like one of those automatons that jump out of striking clocks every hour.

It was like a déja-vu of yesterday.

"The shop manager asked me to help them out because there was a shortage of staff. I am a little anxious because, well, I have never worked anywhere before. But the manager assured me that I will be fine," explained Tsukimori unaffectedly.

"You should talk! ...You're the one who made him say that."

It was me, naturally, who spit out those words in a volume no one could perceive.

"Maybe I should join you..."

"Don't skip your club. You have to do your best and become a regular player." I was able to predict the direction this conversation would take, so I put a stop to it in advance.

"Why don't you stop by this weekend, Chizuru? I may not be able to keep you company since there's still a lot I have to learn, but there's still Nonomiya-kun. Right, Nonomiya-kun?"

I glared at her smiling face for the brink of a second. She tilted her head slightly, asking "Hm?" and retaining her unbreakable smile.

"Yeah, you're always welcome in our café, Usami."

I swore to myself to complain to Tsukimori afterward.

"Okay! I'll drop by! I'll definitely drop by!"

Usami rejoiced grandly, her eyes sparkling. Her straightforward reaction made a good deal of my gloomy mood just flow away.

But there was a serious problem. Judging from the looks of my classmates, it was obvious that they would raid the café this weekend. And this time it seemed quite difficult to stop them.

"Listen up, everyone! Nonomiya is giving us some explanations!!"

Kamogawa came clapping me on the shoulder with a disgustingly gentle smile. Behind him stood a group of guys with the same disgusting smile on their faces. It was the guys-alliance, and they demanded justice from the one who had stolen the march from them. 

It was sickening.

"I am so going to protest to Tsukimori," I swore determinedly.

<noinclude>
{{Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Confession|Confession]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Bitter Chocolate|Bitter Chocolate]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 In The Café

2011-10-26T21:42:28Z

Andrewgr: better flow

==[In The Café]==

All of a sudden Tsukimori came to my desk and said, with a smile as warm as sunbeams shining through the leaves of a tree and a voice as soft as a gentle summer breeze:

"Shall we go then, Nonomiya-kun?"

Time stopped in the noisy classroom. At least, my train of thought did.

Everyone suspended what he or she was doing and looked over to us. Usami was the first to regain time.

"...eh? Youko-san? Are you tagging along with Nonomiya? Why? Eeh?"

Her bewilderment made her look like one of those automatons that jump out of striking clocks every hour.

"I wanted to pay the café Nonomiya-kun works at a visit since I heard it's very comfortable there. And as you know, I have been quite busy lately, so I was a little tired and thought about relaxing there while enjoying a cup of tea. Well, that's why ''I asked'' Nonomiya-kun!"

Tsukimori was obviously taking into consideration that we were being watched by our classmates.

"Is that true, Nonomiya?"

I had already expected that I would be the next target to be questioned.

"It is."

Thus, I somehow managed not to reveal my discontent.

"Maybe I should join you..."

I almost blacked out upon hearing her murmur. Tsukimori alone was already enough trouble—I couldn't manage both of them at the same time.

"Aren't your club activities waiting for you?"

Usami was in the volleyball club. She was gifted with strength in her arms that didn't suit her small body: her spikes made the guys look old. I remembered all too well how relieved I was to be on the same team after witnessing her spike during PE.

"I-I'll skip!"

"Don't. Didn't you say only recently that you were on the brink of becoming a regular player? It would be foolish to skip your club activities during such an important period."

Usami pressed her lips into a line and grumbled with a frown.

"Let's go together some other time, Chizuru. I will memorize where the café is for you, today. Okay?"

Tsukimori admonished her gently like a caring sister, whereupon Usami obediently nodded, "Okay."

One problem solved. I then went on getting rid of the remaining issues.

"It's really just you who's coming, right? If the whole bunch were to come along, I'd have to refuse because that would only cause the café trouble."

That was a prompt. I indicated to Tsukimori that I would only give my consent if she cleared that condition.

"Don't worry, our classmates are so kind, they would never cause anyone trouble," she ensured with a ladylike smile, "See you tomorrow, everyone."

She elegantly waved her hand at her classmates.

They would have jumped at that chance for sure. The guys, among them Kamogawa, and the girls who admired Tsukimori put their disappointment clearly on display. But not one of them would even think of betraying angelic Youko Tsukimori's trust.

But equally, I was not capable enough to do something against the situation she had induced. I had no choice but to unwillingly go along with her.

Tsukimori walked with light steps towards the front gate.

"What are you up to?" I asked her delicate back, without hiding my bad mood.

Tsukimori turned around, making her long hair flutter in the wind.

"I am so curious about the café you work at," she said, without hiding her good mood.

"Answer me! You should know that I don't like standing out."

"Which is why I tried to prevent a commotion, didn't I?"

"That doesn't change the fact that we attracted attention."

"Well, tough luck."

"And whose fault is that...?" I was irritated by her out-and-out undaunted behavior. "Who told you that I work at a café anyway?"

"I heard it from rumors!"

"Don't lie."

It was well-known that I work part-time somewhere, but I hadn't told anyone at school that I was working at a café.

"What are you after?"

"What do you think I am, Nonomiya-kun? It is not strange at all to desire to learn more about the person in my heart, is it? This is what you call a pure girl's heart."

"You claim to be pure girl? Laughable. Let me assert this for you: you are nowhere near as harmless as that."

I sneered.

"You know, looking so mature can be a real bother at such times. I am still just a seventeen-year-old girl. Besides, I have only recently lost my father, so I think you ought to be gentler to me, Nonomiya-kun," pouted Tsukimori. I was surprised that she could make such childish expressions, too.

But that was as far as it went. Of course I felt sorry for her, but in the end it was still none of my business.

"See you tomorrow."

I accelerated my pace and put some distance between me and Tsukimori.

"Where are you going? There's the back gate."

"Unlike you, I commute by bicycle and not by train. If you can keep up with my speed, I shall take the special trouble and guide you to the café?" I was deliberately cold. I couldn't be bothered to adjust to others. And I cared even less to have someone enter my territory without authorization. 

"Yes, let's go with that. I just hope my back will not hurt from it, but well, I have always wanted do that once."

However, Tsukimori was even less harmless than I had expected. Before I knew it, she was walking next to me.

"...what are you thinking?"

"I have always wanted to do that at least once! Riding a bicycle à deux."
"When did I say I'd let you?"

"Don't worry. I should not be too heavy."

"That wasn't the question."

I was annoyed. As she showed no restraint I decided on saying my piece without restraint as well.

"I admit that I may be supposed to be gentler to you as you've just lost your father. However, I don't feel like dancing to your tune like the others, not in the least. Not everyone is considerate towards you, keep that in mind. At least now that I know your true nature, I might still feel sympathy but I am certainly not favorable towards you," I rebuked her.

"Mmm! That's how my Nonomiya-kun has to be," Tsukimori nodded strongly, making a somewhat contented face. "I love this unashamed attitude."

My words had achieved the exact opposite effect. Wanting to put her off, I accidentally attracted her all the more.

Seeing my loss for words, she showed me her occasional big-sister-like smile.

"Won't you give me a chance? I have realized by now that my confession yesterday was overhasty! Just like you don't know how I really am, I don't know you well yet, either. I think it is necessary for both of us to deepen our mutual understanding. It's not too late to make a decision after coming to know each other better, right?"

Her opinion was fair enough.

But when I looked back at what had happened so far, I didn't feel like believing her words blindly.

I peeked into Tsukimori's eyes.

What was she thinking?

She did not avoid my glance in the slightest. In her big, almond-shaped eyes I could clearly see my own reflection.

It was I who gave in at last. I released her from my gaze and mounted my bicycle.

"—Get on."

"Thank you!"

I heard her cheerful voice.

After she had gotten on the carrier, I took off. She was light, just as she had said herself.

"Promise me that you won't do anything that would bring me into focus anymore like today."

"I'll do my best."

"No, not just your best, promise it."

"Nonomiya-kun, the wind feels so pleasant. Riding a bicycle together is even better than I thought."

I spotted our reflection in a street mirror. Tsukimori was holding her skirt down with her right hand, wrapping her left arm around me, and smiling dazzlingly while watching the town's scenery passing us by.

Completely unable to complain any more to a girl who entrusted her body to me, I just answered: "...Lucky you."

I kept on riding the bike while channeling all my unvoiced discontent and displeasure into pushing the pedals.

Be it because of envy or jealousy, I sensed some intensive gazes from other students on their way home. It was clear whose fault it was since I had never experienced anything of this kind when cycling alone.

I was riding a bicycle with ''Youko Tsukimori'' on the back.

This was one of those sweet moments that are worthy of being called a memory of adolescence. I, in the midst of this period of life, was probably supposed to pride myself on such an event that anyone would envy me for.

To tell the truth, I was proud enough to have a certain sense of superiority, believing that there was no one else who had something as noble as her on his carrier.

Well, this only lasted for the short while during which I forgot about her troublesome personality and the murder recipe.

During the following hours I would definitely turn into her toy, so I needed to be emotionally prepared.

I had accepted Tsukimori's request. The reason was simple: I was interested in her.

Apart from that, call it a property　of mine or just a preference: I enjoyed these thrilling conversations with her.

I changed into my waiter uniform in the staff room; I put on narrow black slacks, did up the buttons of my white shirt and the black vest above, slipped into a pair of wing tip leather shoes and lastly I wound a rather long apron around my hips. After checking my appearance in front of the mirror, just to be sure, I headed to the kitchen.

The instant I entered the kitchen, my nose was tickled by the aromatic fragrance of coffee beans—a smell I was fond of.

The reason why I had chosen to work in this British-style café "Victoria" was, as a matter of fact, because the best coffee in the vicinity was served here.

Upon spotting me, my colleagues greeted me.

"Mister Kujirai?" I addressed the broad back of a man who was grinding coffee with a hand mill. The sturdy bespectacled addressee turned around with a warm smile. I continued, "I would be in charge of waiting the tables today, but may I change to the kitchen staff?"

"What's the matter?"

"It's a personal one, I'm afraid, but to tell the truth, a classmate of mine has come today."

"Eh? Why would you want to change your post then?"

"Well, I wouldn't be able to keep my classmate company. And besides, isn't it quite embarrassing to be watched while working?"

As if I would let her watch! I knew that my resistance was childish, but this was my last stand after having failed miserably at turning her down.

There was someone apart from the shop manager who reacted sharply to my words.

"Hey, Nonomiya! Is it a guy or a gal?" asked a woman who was clothed like a pastry cook and was putting some fruit on a parfait right beside me. "If it's a guy I'll switch with you. As long as he's my type, of course!"

The whole staff grimaced as if they had taken bitter medicine when they realized that Mirai-san's ''bad habit'' had appeared again.

Her full name was Mirai Samejima. Mirai-san was the oldest face among the people at Victoria, and even the manager took his hat off to her.

According to her, she was still in university, but looking at how she behaved more important than the manager on some days—no, make that "everyday"—she gave me the impression of being older than that.

[[Image:Gekkou-075.jpg|thumb]]

"Sorry to let you down, Mirai-san: it's a girl!"

"Hmph. Well, the fact that you brought a gal along gets me interested just as much."

With skillful movements Mirai-san quickly finished the parfait and, after throwing a piece of block chocolate into her mouth, tripped to the counter from where she had an overview of all the tables.

"Who is it? Come on, spill it."

She scowled over the counter into the shop while rolling the piece of chocolate in her mouth. The other staff members, too, didn't miss the chance and scanned the café from behind her.

I was hoping someone would remonstrate with them about their snoopy behavior, but even the one who was in the position to do so—the shop manager—was peeking with a face gleaming with curiosity.

Giving up, I admitted: "It's her," and pointed at Tsukimori who had taken a seat at the window and was sitting there like an unworldly, well-educated lady.

A cheer arose among the staff; the positive reaction of the guys was so blatant that I would have felt like an idiot if I had claimed that I had expected it.

"Damn! What a beauty! Way too good for you, Nonomiya, that's for sure!"

Mirai-san was apparently irritated with something and ran her iron fist into the pit of my stomach.

"...does anybody know why I deserve to be punched?"

My trembling question was only met with pitiful glances.

"You always act as if you didn't care two figs about love, but you do your thing in the background, huh, you sneaking lech!"

Apparently, Mirai-san mistook Tsukimori and me for lovers.

"...Mirai-chan and her new boyfriend haven't been getting along lately, you know," the manager whispered into my ear.

"So it's only a matter of time until they split up, I suppose?"

"...Probably," he nodded after backing off again.

Mirai-san could be categorized as pretty if she kept quiet. As a matter of fact, she was often approached by the other sex. However, unfortunately her looks were spoiled by her unyielding personality, which was also the reason why her relationships never lasted long. I knew of none, at least.

"Mhh!? Saruwatari!? Gotten all lovestruck or what?!"

"I-I haven't! I'm not lovestruck or anything!"

"Then you better stay that way!"

Today's sacrifice was Saruwatari-san. Mirai-san's sharp kick landed straight in his buttocks.

At times when she didn't get along with her boyfriend or when she broke up with one, her mood would take a free fall.

And we at Victoria just called that ill-humored Mirai-san "the beast". Unfortunately though, there was no hero in disguise at our café. As soon as the beast went berserk, there was no solution but to weather the storm.

"Mister Kujirai, I'm off waiting the tables."

"O-Okay, good luck."

Discretion is the better part of valor after all.

The kitchen resounded with the cries of the poor man who had become the prey of the beast.

Our café was not too big: there were eight tables and six counter seats. The staff consisted of a total of 5 people, two of which attended the customers while the others worked in the kitchen. But I very much liked that relaxed and comfortable atmosphere.

The mood of this British-style café was supported by appropriate antique tables and chairs. The various well-chosen decorations were apparently selected by the manager's British wife. Apropos, the name of the café was taken from his wife's first name.

With Victoria being located on the first floor of a multi-tenant building near the station and having an interior that should please the fairer sex, there were comparatively many young women like office ladies or college students.

When I came to take her order, Tsukimori scrutinized me from head to toe.

"Your garçon outfit looks handsome."

"Waiter" would have been the proper way to address the staff here, considering that it was designed in a British style, but "garçon" is apparently more common here in Japan.

Since I judged it to be too much a trifle to correct, I only thanked her casually with a smile, "Thanks," and added, "and a café goes well with you."

Tsukimori smiled back at me and replied "Thank you."

I was quite honest. A beautiful girl in a café always makes for a good picture.

"The staff are quite lively, aren't they?"

She moved her gaze towards the kitchen.

"You could hear the commotion from here? That sure is a problem for a shop in the service industry."

I placed a glass of water and a wet towel on the table.

"But it looks fun."

"I wonder about that; some even start crying once in a while. At any rate, I have confidence in our coffee. And none of our dishes are half bad."

"I see. I would like a cup of that good coffee then. And please add your recommended confectionery to the order."

"Then how about our recommended blend plus the owner's hand-made apple pie?"

Since Tsukimori nodded, I bowed respectfully and said "Certainly."

I forwarded the order to the kitchen staff.

"You sure are an unfriendly guy."

Mirai-san was there making a frown instead of food.

"You think so? Actually I am trying to be more amiable when I attend guests, though."

"When does that happen? To me, there's no difference. Seriously, what does she like about a guy like you?"

Her eyebrow raised, she sceptically mustered Tsukimori.

"I forgot to mention, but she is not my girlfriend."

"She isn't?"

"No. Just a classmate."

"Then tell me what a beauty and mere classmate wants from you."

"It's not me, it's the café. Apparently she is a fan of cafés."

Since there was no merit at all in telling her the truth, I just made something up.

"That's all? Boring."

"As always, you are so self-centered it's almost refreshing. I'm dead sure you would have been irritated even if she was my lover."

"It's refreshing because I'm honest! To begin with, I think there must be something wrong with those that are delighted about other people's happiness. Every one of them is either a hypocrite or just scheming something."

"A lovely opinion loaded with prejudice, I have to say."

I wasn't as dismissive as I may have appeared, though. In fact, in my mind I even had to agree with her–is it because of that warped personality of mine?

I felt inclined to ask her, who was "honest" by her own judgment and "erratic" by everyone else's, for her opinion regarding a certain question.

"Mirai-san, may I ask you something?"

"Mh? What is it?"

"What do you think about someone who doesn't grieve over their misfortune?"

"Sounds fishy to me," she answered quick as a shot. "Misfortunes are called that because you they make you sad, right? If you don't get sad, then you can't call it a misfortune."

"I see," this time I actually put my agreement into words.

I darted a sidelong glance at Tsukimori.

Tired of waiting or just interested in the café's decoration, she was looking around the shop. Apparently, the white ceramic cat and black glass cat set was to her liking; she stood up and examined it up close.

Who in this café would have guessed that she was in fact a hapless girl who had lost her father only recently?

I reckoned nobody.

One could never observe a stirring of extreme emotions in her. She would always appear calm and mature.

I didn't know whether she purposely controlled her feelings or just simply wasn't the type of person to show them, but she didn't look sad ''at all'' to me.

Of course, it wasn't unthinkable that she just didn't want to unsettle the people around her and was thus desperately hiding her sadness. Or that might actually be the normal reaction of a girl after such a mishap. After all, the deceased wouldn't return, and mourning forever can't be called very healthy either.

But those are just pieces of theory. Is it really possible to deal with one's feelings in such a short time? Especially if it's sadness?

I recalled Mirai-san's words.

Indeed. It seemed fishy.

The dessert was able to satisfy Tsukimori's tastes.

"It's delicious," she praised while happily finishing up her coffee and apple pie without leaving anything over.

I headed to her table to clear up.

"Has everything been to your liking?" I asked, whereupon Tsukimori darted a discontented glance at me.

"Are you telling me to leave?"

"I see you are quick on the uptake."

"I really like this café."

She flashed a smile as if she would start to hum any moment.

"Aha. Pleased to hear that. But don't forget that there are lots of different cafés in the world. You ought to try them out as well."

"I really like this café," repeated Tsukimori with exactly the same smile and exactly the same words.

"I see sometimes you aren't quick on the uptake," I mostly repeated myself as well.

Suddenly Tsukimori stood up and walked further into the shop, apparently towards the kitchen. When I followed in wonder, she was giving the staff a natural greeting and smiling like a blooming flower.

"Pleased to meet you."

It was obvious at a glance that her rosy greeting got the staff flustered. Apparently all of them were quite excited about her. Well, except for Mirai-san who remained unimpressed.

"I am Youko Tsukimori, a classmate of Nonomiya-kun's," she introduced herself with polite manners.

"Ah, yes, Nonomiya-kun told us," answered the manager respectfully despite being way older than her.

"I have to say this is such an adorable little café."

"Thank you very much!"

The manager blushed slightly, moved by her radiant smile.

"I am so jealous of everyone—"

The staff looked at her in surprise. A girl, who seemed to have anything one could be jealous of, was jealous of them.

"—Because you have the privilege to work at such a wonderful café."

Youko Tsukimori looked plainly stunning, set aflame in the twilight.  Although that was probably due to the backlight from the sunset. In that very moment, everyone was fascinated by her exceptional aura.

"I can't even imagine what bliss it would be to work at such a wonderful place."

Being the person in this room that had the most resistance against her, I smiled wryly at her star-like attitude. I also found that she had gone over the top with that exorbitant exaggeration.

However, the manager's next words erased the smile on my lips.

"...um, Tsukimori-san, you said?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to work here?"

"Mister Kujirai—"

I couldn't keep silent. I wanted to keep him from committing a grave mistake. Faust, you are bargaining with Mephistopheles!

However, someone seized my shoulder and held me back. The smell of chocolate was in the air.

"Just watch," Mirai-san said with a mischievous smile. Here we had another devil.

"Err, actually, there is a vacant post at the moment. And since you are Nonomiya-kun's classmate, we don't have to worry about your background. So, if you'd like, we would gladly welcome you, Tsukimori-san."

The other staff members nodded their heads in agreement, too.

It was just like group hypnosis. They must have been mesmerized by the devil and lost their minds.

"I am really happy about your offer, but... can you really make do with me? To tell you the truth, I have never worked anywhere before," answered Tsukimori hesitatingly after wavering for a short while.

"No no, don't worry! Everyone has to begin somewhere. Besides, I'm positive that you, as someone with outstanding manners, are suited for this kind of business!"

Sure, her acceptance among the customers would be outstanding! They can only see her superficial side after all.

"I'll gladly accept your offer then if you have so much confidence in me," replied Tsukimori with a bright smile.

Everyone welcomed her warmly with a smile as well. I was the only one who made a sour face, while feeling awfully removed from that ring of blessings.

Because I knew better.

I knew that a bold and determined character lurked beneath her surface, which showed only a beautiful girl of excellent character who was thus loved by everyone.

To make things worse, bright Tsukimori was well aware of her own attractiveness. And just now I had learned that she also knew how to use it correctly.

"Why are men just so weak against pretty girls?" whispered Mirai-san into my ear after she had pulled me by the shoulder, the counter between us.

"A good question. After all, the guys in this café are all 'weak' against you as well," I answered casually.

"It feels just wrong when you're giving compliments. But it's no bad feeling. Let me pet your head as a reward."

Mirai-san's palm approached my head, but I refused gloomily. "I'm not in the mood. Please don't confuse me any further."

"No need to be reserved! If you want, I may even give you one piece of my chocolate?"

"Are you okay with it? Aren't you against the employment of Tsukimori?"

"You want me to object, don't you?"

"Well, only your objection would be able to put an end to this welcoming mood."

"Can't be bothered. There's no reason to object."

"Why?"

I was surprised that Mirai-san would allow such a farce.

"Because it's damn funny to see you protest so blatantly when you act so cold usually!!"

Mirai-san cackled.

"...you do realize how awful your personality is?"

"You're worse off than I am, right? If my intuition doesn't fail me, Tsukimori isn't the type of woman a helpless guy like you could handle."

"Doesn't bother me. I don't plan on making a move on her."

"''You'' may think so, but what about her?"

Mirai-san narrowed her eyes and peeked searchingly into my face from close up.

"No use punching me, for your information."

"Yeah yeah. Looking forward to the next few days."

Without caring about my strong rebuff, Mirai-san waved her hand and toddled back into the kitchen.

It felt like it was just a matter of time until she would get wind of our odd relationship—a woman's intuition?

I told myself that I had to make sure Tsukimori wouldn't say any unnecessary things to Mirai-san.

"I work here now."

The girl in question, Tsukimori, approached me merrily in spite of all the headaches she was causing me.

"It's still not too late. Won't you think it over again?"

My reply was cold, but my heart was colder.

"Thank you for worrying about me. But since the manager was so kind to offer me this position, I will try my best!"

She cutely clenched her fist, full of confidence.

"I'm not worrying. I am bothered."

"I am looking forward to working with you, colleague."

Tsukimori's smile hadn't cracked even once.

Mirai-san had mentioned that I was not someone who could handle her.

I found myself right in the course of experiencing just how spot-on she was.

The next morning in the classroom.

All of a sudden, Tsukimori came to my desk and said with a smile as warm as sunbeams shining through the leaves of a tree and a voice as soft as a gentle summer breeze to Usami:

"I have been employed at the café Nonomiya-kun works at."

Time stopped in the noisy classroom. At least, Usami did—like a clock whose battery had run dry.

"...eh? Youko-san? You work together with Nonomiya? Why? Eeh?"

Her bewilderment made her look like one of those automatons that jump out of striking clocks every hour.

It was like a déja-vu of yesterday.

"The shop manager asked me to help them out because there was a shortage of staff. I am a little anxious because, well, I have never worked anywhere before. But the manager assured me that I will be fine," explained Tsukimori unaffectedly.

"You should talk! ...You're the one who made him say that."

It was me, naturally, who spit out those words in a volume no one could perceive.

"Maybe I should join you..."

"Don't skip your club. You have to do your best and become a regular player."

I was able to predict the direction this conversation would take, so I put a stop to it in advance.

"Why don't you stop by this weekend, Chizuru? I may not be able to keep you company since there's still a lot I have to learn, but there's still Nonomiya-kun. Right, Nonomiya-kun?"

I glared at her smiling face for the brink of a second. She tilted her head slightly, asking "Hm?" and retaining her unbreakable smile.

"Yeah, you're always welcome in our café, Usami."

I swore to myself to complain to Tsukimori afterward.

"Okay! I'll drop by! I'll definitely drop by!"

Usami rejoiced grandly, her eyes sparkling. Her straightforward reaction made a good deal of my gloomy mood just flow away.

But there was a serious problem. Judging from the looks of my classmates, it was obvious that they would raid the café this weekend. And this time it seemed quite difficult to stop them.

"Listen up, everyone! Nonomiya is giving us some explanations!!"

Kamogawa came clapping me on the shoulder with a disgustingly gentle smile. Behind him stood a group of guys with the same disgusting smile on their faces. It was the guys-alliance, and they demanded justice from the one who had stolen the march from them. 

It was sickening.

"I am so going to protest to Tsukimori," I swore determinedly.

<noinclude>
{{Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Confession|Confession]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Bitter Chocolate|Bitter Chocolate]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 In The Café

2011-10-26T21:40:06Z

Andrewgr: corrected tense

==[In The Café]==

All of a sudden Tsukimori came to my desk and said, with a smile as warm as sunbeams shining through the leaves of a tree and a voice as soft as a gentle summer breeze:

"Shall we go then, Nonomiya-kun?"

Time stopped in the noisy classroom. At least, my train of thought did.

Everyone suspended what he or she was doing and looked over to us. Usami was the first to regain time.

"...eh? Youko-san? Are you tagging along with Nonomiya? Why? Eeh?"

Her bewilderment made her look like one of those automatons that jump out of striking clocks every hour.

"I wanted to pay the café Nonomiya-kun works at a visit since I heard it's very comfortable there. And as you know, I have been quite busy lately, so I was a little tired and thought about relaxing there while enjoying a cup of tea. Well, that's why ''I asked'' Nonomiya-kun!"

Tsukimori was obviously taking into consideration that we were being watched by our classmates.

"Is that true, Nonomiya?"

I had already expected that I would be the next target to be questioned.

"It is."

Thus, I somehow managed not to reveal my discontent.

"Maybe I should join you..."

I almost blacked out upon hearing her murmur. Tsukimori alone was already enough trouble—I couldn't manage both of them at the same time.

"Aren't your club activities waiting for you?"

Usami was in the volleyball club. She was gifted with strength in her arms that didn't suit her small body: her spikes made the guys look old. I remembered all too well how relieved I was to be on the same team after witnessing her spike during PE.

"I-I'll skip!"

"Don't. Didn't you say only recently that you were on the brink of becoming a regular player? It would be foolish to skip your club activities during such an important period."

Usami pressed her lips into a line and grumbled with a frown.

"Let's go together some other time, Chizuru. I will memorize where the café is for you, today. Okay?"

Tsukimori admonished her gently like a caring sister, whereupon Usami obediently nodded, "Okay."

One problem solved. I then went on getting rid of the remaining issues.

"It's really just you who's coming, right? If the whole bunch were to come along, I'd have to refuse because that would only cause the café trouble."

That was a prompt. I indicated to Tsukimori that I would only give my consent if she cleared that condition.

"Don't worry, our classmates are so kind, they would never cause anyone trouble," she ensured with a ladylike smile, "See you tomorrow, everyone."

She elegantly waved her hand at her classmates.

They would have jumped at that chance for sure. The guys, among them Kamogawa, and the girls who admired Tsukimori put their disappointment clearly on display. But not one of them would even think of betraying angelic Youko Tsukimori's trust.

But equally, I was not capable enough to do something against the situation she had induced. I had no choice but to unwillingly go along with her.

Tsukimori walked with light steps towards the front gate.

"What are you up to?" I asked her delicate back, without hiding my bad mood.

Tsukimori turned around, making her long hair flutter in the wind.

"I am so curious about the café you work at," she said, without hiding her good mood.

"Answer me! You should know that I don't like standing out."

"Which is why I tried to prevent a commotion, didn't I?"

"That doesn't change the fact that we attracted attention."

"Well, tough luck."

"And whose fault is that...?" I was irritated by her out-and-out undaunted behavior. "Who told you that I work at a café anyway?"

"I heard it from rumors!"

"Don't lie."

It was well-known that I work part-time somewhere, but I hadn't told anyone at school that I was working at a café.

"What are you after?"

"What do you think I am, Nonomiya-kun? It is not strange at all to desire to learn more about the person in my heart, is it? This is what you call a pure girl's heart."

"You claim to be pure girl? Laughable. Let me assert this for you: you are nowhere near as harmless as that."

I sneered.

"You know, looking so mature can be a real bother at such times. I am still just a seventeen-year-old girl. Besides, I have only recently lost my father, so I think you ought to be gentler to me, Nonomiya-kun," pouted Tsukimori. I was surprised that she could make such childish expressions, too.

But that was as far as it went. Of course I felt sorry for her, but in the end it was still none of my business.

"See you tomorrow."

I accelerated my pace and put some distance between me and Tsukimori.

"Where are you going? There's the back gate."

"Unlike you, I commute by bicycle and not by train. If you can keep up with my speed, I shall take the special trouble and guide you to the café?" I was deliberately cold. I couldn't be bothered to adjust to others. And I cared even less to have someone enter my territory without authorization. 

"Yes, let's go with that. I just hope my back will not hurt from it, but well, I have always wanted do that once."

However, Tsukimori was even less harmless than I had expected. Before I knew it, she was walking next to me.

"...what are you thinking?"

"I have always wanted to do that at least once! Riding a bicycle à deux."
"When did I say I'd let you?"

"Don't worry. I should not be too heavy."

"That wasn't the question."

I was annoyed. As she showed no restraint I decided on saying my piece without restraint as well.

"I admit that I may be supposed to be gentler to you as you've just lost your father. However, I don't feel like dancing to your tune like the others, not in the least. Not everyone is considerate towards you, keep that in mind. At least now that I know your true nature, I might still feel sympathy but I am certainly not favorable towards you," I rebuked her.

"Mmm! That's how my Nonomiya-kun has to be," Tsukimori nodded strongly, making a somewhat contented face. "I love this unashamed attitude."

My words had achieved the exact opposite effect. Wanting to put her off, I accidentally attracted her all the more.

Seeing my loss for words, she showed me her occasional big-sister-like smile.

"Won't you give me a chance? I have realized by now that my confession yesterday was overhasty! Just like you don't know how I really am, I don't know you well yet, either. I think it is necessary for both of us to deepen our mutual understanding. It's not too late to make a decision after coming to know each other better, right?"

Her opinion was fair enough.

But when I looked back at what had happened so far, I didn't feel like believing her words blindly.

I peeked into Tsukimori's eyes.

What was she thinking?

She did not avoid my glance in the slightest. In her big, almond-shaped eyes I could clearly see my own reflection.

It was I who gave in at last. I released her from my gaze and mounted my bicycle.

"—Get on."

"Thank you!"

I heard her cheerful voice.

After she had gotten on the carrier, I took off. She was light, just as she had said herself.

"Promise me that you won't do anything that would bring me into focus anymore like today."

"I'll do my best."

"No, not just your best, promise it."

"Nonomiya-kun, the wind feels so pleasant. Riding a bicycle together is even better than I thought."

I spotted our reflection in a street mirror. Tsukimori was holding her skirt down with her right hand, wrapping her left arm around me, and smiling dazzlingly while watching the town's scenery passing us by.

Completely unable to complain any more to a girl who entrusted her body to me, I just answered: "...Lucky you."

I kept on riding the bike while channeling all my unvoiced discontent and displeasure into pushing the pedals.

Be it because of envy or jealousy, I sensed some intensive gazes from other students on their way home. It was clear whose fault it was since I had never experienced anything of this kind when cycling alone.

I was riding a bicycle with ''Youko Tsukimori'' on the back.

This was one of those sweet moments that are worthy of being called a memory of adolescence. I, in the midst of this period of life, was probably supposed to pride myself on such an event that anyone would envy me for.

To tell the truth, I was proud enough to have a certain sense of superiority, believing that there was no one else who had something as noble as her on his carrier.

Well, this only lasted for the short while during which I forgot about her troublesome personality and the murder recipe.

During the following hours I would definitely turn into her toy, so I needed to be emotionally prepared.

I had accepted Tsukimori's request. The reason was simple: I was interested in her.

Apart from that, call it a property　of mine or just a preference: I enjoyed these thrilling conversations with her.

I changed into my waiter uniform in the staff room; I put on narrow black slacks, did up the buttons of my white shirt and the black vest above, slipped into a pair of wing tip leather shoes and lastly I wound a rather long apron around my hips. After checking my appearance in front of the mirror, just to be sure, I headed to the kitchen.

The instant I entered the kitchen, my nose was tickled by the aromatic fragrance of coffee beans—a smell I was fond of.

The reason why I had chosen to work in this British-style café "Victoria" was, as a matter of fact, because the best coffee in the vicinity was served here.

Upon spotting me, my colleagues greeted me.

"Mister Kujirai?" I addressed the broad back of a man who was grinding coffee with a hand mill. The sturdy bespectacled addressee turned around with a warm smile. I continued, "I would be in charge of waiting the tables today, but may I change to the kitchen staff?"

"What's the matter?"

"It's a personal one, I'm afraid, but to tell the truth, a classmate of mine has come today."

"Eh? Why would you want to change your post then?"

"Well, I wouldn't be able to keep my classmate company. And besides, isn't it quite embarrassing to be watched while working?"

As if I would let her watch! I knew that my resistance was childish, but this was my last stand after having failed miserably at turning her down.

There was someone apart from the shop manager who reacted sharply to my words.

"Hey, Nonomiya! Is it a guy or a gal?" asked a woman who was clothed like a pastry cook and was putting some fruit on a parfait right beside me. "If it's a guy I'll switch with you. As long as he's my type, of course!"

The whole staff grimaced as if they had taken bitter medicine when they realized that Mirai-san's ''bad habit'' had appeared again.

Her full name was Mirai Samejima. Mirai-san was the oldest face among the people at Victoria, and even the manager took his hat off to her.

According to her, she was still in university, but looking at how she behaved more important than the manager on some days—no, make that "everyday"—she gave me the impression of being older than that.

[[Image:Gekkou-075.jpg|thumb]]

"Sorry to let you down, Mirai-san: it's a girl!"

"Hmph. Well, the fact that you brought a gal along gets me interested just as much."

With skillful movements Mirai-san quickly finished the parfait and, after throwing a piece of block chocolate into her mouth, tripped to the counter from where she had an overview of all the tables.

"Who is it? Come on, spill it."

She scowled over the counter into the shop while rolling the piece of chocolate in her mouth. The other staff members, too, didn't miss the chance and scanned the café from behind her.

I was hoping someone would remonstrate with them about their snoopy behavior, but even the one who was in the position to do so—the shop manager—was peeking with a face gleaming with curiosity.

Giving up, I admitted: "It's her," and pointed at Tsukimori who had taken a seat at the window and was sitting there like an unworldly, well-educated lady.

A cheer arose among the staff; the positive reaction of the guys was so blatant that I would have felt like an idiot if I had claimed that I had expected it.

"Damn! What a beauty! Way too good for you, Nonomiya, that's for sure!"

Mirai-san was apparently irritated with something and ran her iron fist into the pit of my stomach.

"...does anybody know why I deserve to be punched?"

My trembling question was only met with pitiful glances.

"You always act as if you didn't care two figs about love, but you do your thing in the background, huh, you sneaking lech!"

Apparently, Mirai-san mistook Tsukimori and me for lovers.

"...Mirai-chan and her new boyfriend haven't been getting along lately, you know," the manager whispered into my ear.

"So it's only a matter of time until they split up, I suppose?"

"...Probably," he nodded after backing off again.

Mirai-san could be categorized as pretty if she kept quiet. As a matter of fact, she was often approached by the other sex. However, unfortunately her looks were spoiled by her unyielding personality, which was also the reason why her relationships never lasted long. I knew of none, at least.

"Mhh!? Saruwatari!? Gotten all lovestruck or what?!"

"I-I haven't! I'm not lovestruck or anything!"

"Then you better stay that way!"

Today's sacrifice was Saruwatari-san. Mirai-san's sharp kick landed straight in his buttocks.

At times when she didn't get along with her boyfriend or when she broke up with one, her mood would take a free fall.

And we at Victoria just called that ill-humored Mirai-san "the beast". Unfortunately though, there was no hero in disguise at our café. As soon as the beast went berserk, there was no solution but to weather the storm.

"Mister Kujirai, I'm off waiting the tables."

"O-Okay, good luck."

Discretion is the better part of valor after all.

The kitchen resounded with the cries of the poor man who had become the prey of the beast.

Our café was not too big: there were eight tables and six counter seats. The staff consisted of a total of 5 people, two of which attended the customers while the others worked in the kitchen. But I very much liked that relaxed and comfortable atmosphere.

The mood of this British-style café was supported by appropriate antique tables and chairs. The various well-chosen decorations were apparently selected by the manager's British wife. Apropos, the name of the café was taken from his wife's first name.

With Victoria being located on the first floor of a multi-tenant building near the station and having an interior that should please the fairer sex, there were comparatively many young women like office ladies or college students.

When I came to take her order, Tsukimori scrutinized me from head to toe.

"Your garçon outfit looks handsome."

"Waiter" would have been the proper way to address the staff here, considering that it was designed in a British style, but "garçon" is apparently more common here in Japan.

Since I judged it to be too much a trifle to correct, I only thanked her casually with a smile, "Thanks," and added, "and a café goes well with you."

Tsukimori smiled back at me and replied "Thank you."

I was quite honest. A beautiful girl in a café always makes for a good picture.

"The staff are quite lively, aren't they?"

She moved her gaze towards the kitchen.

"You could hear the commotion from here? That sure is a problem for a shop in the service industry."

I placed a glass of water and a wet towel on the table.

"But it looks fun."

"I wonder about that; some even start crying once in a while. At any rate, I have confidence in our coffee. And none of our dishes are half bad."

"I see. I would like a cup of that good coffee then. And please add your recommended confectionery to the order."

"Then how about our recommended blend plus the owner's hand-made apple pie?"

Since Tsukimori nodded, I bowed respectfully and said "Certainly."

I forwarded the order to the kitchen staff.

"You sure are an unfriendly guy."

Mirai-san was there making a frown instead of food.

"You think so? Actually I am trying to be more amiable when I attend guests, though."

"When does that happen? To me, there's no difference. Seriously, what does she like about a guy like you?"

Her eyebrow raised, she sceptically mustered Tsukimori.

"I forgot to mention, but she is not my girlfriend."

"She isn't?"

"No. Just a classmate."

"Then tell me what a beauty and mere classmate wants from you."

"It's not me, it's the café. Apparently she is a fan of cafés."

Since there was no merit at all in telling her the truth, I just made something up.

"That's all? Boring."

"As always, you are so self-centered it's almost refreshing. I'm dead sure you would have been irritated even if she was my lover."

"It's refreshing because I'm honest! To begin with, I think there must be something wrong with those that are delighted about other people's happiness. Every one of them is either a hypocrite or just scheming something."

"A lovely opinion loaded with prejudice, I have to say."

I wasn't as dismissive as I may have appeared, though. In fact, in my mind I even had to agree with her–is it because of that warped personality of mine?

I felt inclined to ask her, who was "honest" by her own judgment and "erratic" by everyone else's, for her opinion regarding a certain question.

"Mirai-san, may I ask you something?"

"Mh? What is it?"

"What do you think about someone who doesn't grieve over their misfortune?"

"Sounds fishy to me," she answered quick as a shot. "Misfortunes are called that because you they make you sad, right? If you don't get sad, then you can't call it a misfortune."

"I see," this time I actually put my agreement into words.

I darted a sidelong glance at Tsukimori.

Tired of waiting or just interested in the café's decoration, she was looking around the shop. Apparently, the white ceramic cat and black glass cat set was to her liking; she stood up and examined it up close.

Who in this café would have guessed that she was in fact a hapless girl who had lost her father only recently?

I reckoned nobody.

One could never observe a stirring of extreme emotions in her. She would always appear calm and mature.

I didn't know whether she purposely controlled her feelings or just simply wasn't the type of person to show them, but she didn't look sad ''at all'' to me.

Of course, it wasn't unthinkable that she just didn't want to unsettle the people around her and was thus desperately hiding her sadness. Or that might actually be the normal reaction of a girl after such a mishap. After all, the deceased wouldn't return, and mourning forever can't be called very healthy either.

But those are just pieces of theory. Is it really possible to deal with one's feelings in such a short time? Especially if it's sadness?

I recalled Mirai-san's words.

Indeed. It seemed fishy.

The dessert was able to satisfy Tsukimori's tastes.

"It's delicious," she praised while happily finishing up her coffee and apple pie without leaving anything over.

I headed to her table to clear up.

"Has everything been to your liking?" I asked, whereupon Tsukimori darted a discontented glance at me.

"Are you telling me to leave?"

"I see you are quick on the uptake."

"I really like this café."

She flashed a smile as if she would start to hum any moment.

"Aha. Pleased to hear that. But don't forget that there are lots of different cafés in the world. You ought to try them out as well."

"I really like this café," repeated Tsukimori with exactly the same smile and exactly the same words.

"I see sometimes you aren't quick on the uptake," I mostly repeated myself as well.

Suddenly Tsukimori stood up and walked further into the shop, apparently towards the kitchen. When I followed in wonder, she was giving the staff a natural greeting and smiling like a blooming flower.

"Pleased to meet you."

It was obvious at a glance that her rosy greeting got the staff flustered. Apparently all of them were quite excited about her. Well, except for Mirai-san who remained unimpressed.

"I am Youko Tsukimori, a classmate of Nonomiya-kun's," she introduced herself with polite manners.

"Ah, yes, Nonomiya-kun told us," answered the manager respectfully despite being way older than her.

"I have to say this is such an adorable little café."

"Thank you very much!"

The manager blushed slightly, moved by her radiant smile.

"I am so jealous of everyone—"

The staff looked at her in surprise. A girl, who seemed to have anything one could be jealous of, was jealous of them.

"—Because you have the privilege to work at such a wonderful café."

Youko Tsukimori looked plainly stunning, set aflame in the twilight.  Although that was probably due to the backlight from the sunset. In that very moment, everyone was fascinated by her exceptional aura.

"I can't even imagine what bliss it would be to work at such a wonderful place."

Being the person in this room that had the most resistance against her, I smiled wryly at her star-like attitude. I also found that she had gone over the top with that exorbitant exaggeration.

However, the manager's next words erased the smile on my lips.

"...um, Tsukimori-san, you said?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to work here?"

"Mister Kujirai—"

I couldn't keep silent. I wanted to keep him from committing a grave mistake. Faust, you are bargaining with Mephistopheles!

However, someone seized my shoulder and held me back. The smell of chocolate was in the air.

"Just watch," Mirai-san said with a mischievous smile. Here we had another devil.

"Err, actually, there is a vacant post at the moment. And since you are Nonomiya-kun's classmate, we don't have to worry about your background. So, if you'd like, we would gladly welcome you, Tsukimori-san."

The other staff members nodded their heads in agreement, too.

It was just like group hypnosis. They must have been mesmerized by the devil and lost their minds.

"I am really happy about your offer, but... can you really make do with me? To tell you the truth, I have never worked anywhere before," answered Tsukimori hesitatingly after wavering for a short while.

"No no, don't worry! Everyone has to begin somewhere. Besides, I'm positive that you, as someone with outstanding manners, are suited for this kind of business!"

Sure, her acceptance among the customers would be outstanding! They can only see her superficial side after all.

"I'll gladly accept your offer then if you have so much confidence in me," replied Tsukimori with a bright smile.

Everyone welcomed her warmly with a smile as well. I was the only one who made a sour face, while feeling awfully removed from that ring of blessings.

Because I knew better.

I knew that a bold and determined character lurked beneath her surface, which showed only a beautiful girl of excellent character who was thus loved by everyone.

To make things worse, bright Tsukimori was well aware of her own attractiveness. And just now I had learned that she also knew how to use it correctly.

"Why are men just so weak against pretty girls?" whispered Mirai-san into my ear after she had pulled me by the shoulder, the counter between us.

"A good question. After all, the guys in this café are all 'weak' against you as well," I answered casually.

"It feels just wrong when you're giving compliments. But it's no bad feeling. Let me pet your head as a reward."

Mirai-san's palm approached my head, but I refused gloomily. "I'm not in the mood. Please don't confuse me any further."

"No need to be reserved! If you want, I may even give you one piece of my chocolate?"

"Are you okay with it? Aren't you against the employment of Tsukimori?"

"You want me to object, don't you?"

"Well, only your objection would be able to put an end to this welcoming mood."

"Can't be bothered. There's no reason to object."

"Why?"

I was surprised that Mirai-san would allow such a farce.

"Because it's damn funny to see you protest so blatantly when you act so cold usually!!"

Mirai-san cackled.

"...you do realize how awful your personality is?"

"You're worse off than I am, right? If my intuition doesn't fail me, Tsukimori isn't the type of woman a helpless guy like you could handle."

"Doesn't bother me. I don't plan on making a move on her."

"''You'' may think so, but what about her?"

Mirai-san narrowed her eyes and peeked searchingly into my face from close up.

"No use punching me, for your information."

"Yeah yeah. Looking forward to the next few days."

Without caring about my strong rebuff, Mirai-san waved her hand and toddled back into the kitchen.

It felt like it was just a matter of time until she would get wind of our odd relationship—a woman's intuition?

I told myself that I had to make sure Tsukimori wouldn't say any unnecessary things to Mirai-san.

"I work here now."

The girl in question, Tsukimori, approached me merrily in spite of all the headaches she was causing me.

"It's still not too late. Won't you think it over again?"

My reply was cold, but my heart was colder.

"Thank you for worrying about me. But since the manager was so kind to offer me this position, I will try my best!"

She cutely clenched her fist full of confidence.

"I'm not worrying. I am bothered."

"I am looking forward to working with you, colleague."

Tsukimori's smile hadn't cracked even once.

Mirai-san had mentioned that I was not someone who could handle her.

I found myself right in the course of experiencing just how spot-on she was.

The next morning in the classroom.

All of a sudden, Tsukimori came to my desk and said with a smile as warm as sunbeams shining through the leaves of a tree and a voice as soft as a gentle summer breeze to Usami:

"I have been employed at the café Nonomiya-kun works at."

Time stopped in the noisy classroom. At least, Usami did—like a clock whose battery had run dry.

"...eh? Youko-san? You work together with Nonomiya? Why? Eeh?"

Her bewilderment made her look like one of those automatons that jump out of striking clocks every hour.

It was like a déja-vu of yesterday.

"The shop manager asked me to help them out because there was a shortage of staff. I am a little anxious because, well, I have never worked anywhere before. But the manager assured me that I will be fine," explained Tsukimori unaffectedly.

"You should talk! ...You're the one who made him say that."

It was me, naturally, who spit out those words in a volume no one could perceive.

"Maybe I should join you..."

"Don't skip your club. You have to do your best and become a regular player."

I was able to predict the direction this conversation would take, so I put a stop to it in advance.

"Why don't you stop by this weekend, Chizuru? I may not be able to keep you company since there's still a lot I have to learn, but there's still Nonomiya-kun. Right, Nonomiya-kun?"

I glared at her smiling face for the brink of a second. She tilted her head slightly, asking "Hm?" and retaining her unbreakable smile.

"Yeah, you're always welcome in our café, Usami."

I swore to myself to complain to Tsukimori afterward.

"Okay! I'll drop by! I'll definitely drop by!"

Usami rejoiced grandly, her eyes sparkling. Her straightforward reaction made a good deal of my gloomy mood just flow away.

But there was a serious problem. Judging from the looks of my classmates, it was obvious that they would raid the café this weekend. And this time it seemed quite difficult to stop them.

"Listen up, everyone! Nonomiya is giving us some explanations!!"

Kamogawa came clapping me on the shoulder with a disgustingly gentle smile. Behind him stood a group of guys with the same disgusting smile on their faces. It was the guys-alliance, and they demanded justice from the one who had stolen the march from them. 

It was sickening.

"I am so going to protest to Tsukimori," I swore determinedly.

<noinclude>
{{Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Confession|Confession]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Bitter Chocolate|Bitter Chocolate]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 In The Café

2011-10-26T20:51:38Z

Andrewgr: corrected grammar

==[In The Café]==

All of a sudden Tsukimori came to my desk and said, with a smile as warm as sunbeams shining through the leaves of a tree and a voice as soft as a gentle summer breeze:

"Shall we go then, Nonomiya-kun?"

Time stopped in the noisy classroom. At least, my train of thought did.

Everyone suspended what he or she was doing and looked over to us. Usami was the first to regain time.

"...eh? Youko-san? Are you tagging along with Nonomiya? Why? Eeh?"

Her bewilderment made her look like one of those automatons that jump out of striking clocks every hour.

"I wanted to pay the café Nonomiya-kun works at a visit since I heard it's very comfortable there. And as you know, I have been quite busy lately, so I was a little tired and thought about relaxing there while enjoying a cup of tea. Well, that's why ''I asked'' Nonomiya-kun!"

Tsukimori was obviously taking into consideration that we were being watched by our classmates.

"Is that true, Nonomiya?"

I had already expected that I would be the next target to be questioned.

"It is."

Thus, I somehow managed not to reveal my discontent.

"Maybe I should join you..."

I almost blacked out upon hearing her murmur. Tsukimori alone was already enough trouble—I couldn't manage both of them at the same time.

"Aren't your club activities waiting for you?"

Usami was in the volleyball club. She was gifted with strength in her arms that didn't suit her small body: her spikes made the guys look old. I remembered all too well how relieved I was to be on the same team after witnessing her spike during PE.

"I-I'll skip!"

"Don't. Didn't you say only recently that you were on the brink of becoming a regular player? It would be foolish to skip your club activities during such an important period."

Usami pressed her lips into a line and grumbled with a frown.

"Let's go together some other time, Chizuru. I will memorize where the café is for you, today. Okay?"

Tsukimori admonished her gently like a caring sister, whereupon Usami obediently nodded, "Okay."

One problem solved. I then went on getting rid of the remaining issues.

"It's really just you who's coming, right? If the whole bunch were to come along, I'd have to refuse because that would only cause the café trouble."

That was a prompt. I indicated to Tsukimori that I would only give my consent if she cleared that condition.

"Don't worry, our classmates are so kind, they would never cause anyone trouble," she ensured with a ladylike smile, "See you tomorrow, everyone."

She elegantly waved her hand at her classmates.

They would have jumped at that chance for sure. The guys, among them Kamogawa, and the girls who admired Tsukimori put their disappointment clearly on display. But not one of them would even think of betraying angelic Youko Tsukimori's trust.

But equally, I was not capable enough to do something against the situation she had induced. I had no choice but to unwillingly go along with her.

Tsukimori walked with light steps towards the front gate.

"What are you up to?" I asked her delicate back, without hiding my bad mood.

Tsukimori turned around, making her long hair flutter in the wind.

"I am so curious about the café you work at," she said, without hiding her good mood.

"Answer me! You should know that I don't like standing out."

"Which is why I tried to prevent a commotion, didn't I?"

"That doesn't change the fact that we attracted attention."

"Well, tough luck."

"And whose fault is that...?" I was irritated by her out-and-out undaunted behavior. "Who told you that I work at a café anyway?"

"I heard it from rumors!"

"Don't lie."

It was well-known that I work part-time somewhere, but I hadn't told anyone at school that I was working at a café.

"What are you after?"

"What do you think I am, Nonomiya-kun? It is not strange at all to desire to learn more about the person in my heart, is it? This is what you call a pure girl's heart."

"You claim to be pure girl? Laughable. Let me assert this for you: you are nowhere near as harmless as that."

I sneered.

"You know, looking so mature can be a real bother at such times. I am still just a seventeen-year-old girl. Besides, I have only recently lost my father, so I think you ought to be gentler to me, Nonomiya-kun," pouted Tsukimori. I was surprised that she could make such childish expressions, too.

But that was as far as it went. Of course I felt sorry for her, but in the end it was still none of my business.

"See you tomorrow."

I accelerated my pace and put some distance between me and Tsukimori.

"Where are you going? There's the back gate."

"Unlike you, I commute by bicycle and not by train. If you can keep up with my speed, I shall take the special trouble and guide you to the café?" I was deliberately cold. I couldn't be bothered to adjust to others. And I cared even less to have someone enter my territory without authorization. 

"Yes, let's go with that. I just hope my back will not hurt from it, but well, I have always wanted do that once."

However, Tsukimori was even less harmless than I had expected. Before I knew it, she was walking next to me.

"...what are you thinking?"

"I have always wanted to do that at least once! Riding a bicycle à deux."
"When did I say I'd let you?"

"Don't worry. I should not be too heavy."

"That wasn't the question."

I was annoyed. As she showed no restraint I decided on saying my piece without restraint as well.

"I admit that I may be supposed to be gentler to you as you've just lost your father. However, I don't feel like dancing to your tune like the others, not in the least. Not everyone is considerate towards you, keep that in mind. At least now that I know your true nature, I might still feel sympathy but I am certainly not favorable towards you," I rebuked her.

"Mmm! That's how my Nonomiya-kun has to be," Tsukimori nodded strongly, making a somewhat contented face. "I love this unashamed attitude."

My words had achieved the exact opposite effect. Wanting to put her off, I accidentally attracted her all the more.

Seeing my loss for words, she showed me her occasional big-sister-like smile.

"Won't you give me a chance? I have realized by now that my confession yesterday was overhasty! Just like you don't know how I really am, I don't know you well yet, either. I think it is necessary for both of us to deepen our mutual understanding. It's not too late to make a decision after coming to know each other better, right?"

Her opinion was fair enough.

But when I looked back at what had happened so far, I didn't feel like believing her words blindly.

I peeked into Tsukimori's eyes.

What was she thinking?

She did not avoid my glance in the slightest. In her big, almond-shaped eyes I could clearly see my own reflection.

It was I who gave in at last. I released her from my gaze and mounted my bicycle.

"—Get on."

"Thank you!"

I heard her cheerful voice.

After she had gotten on the carrier, I took off. She was light, just as she had said herself.

"Promise me that you won't do anything that would bring me into focus anymore like today."

"I'll do my best."

"No, not just your best, promise it."

"Nonomiya-kun, the wind feels so pleasant. Riding a bicycle together is even better than I thought."

I spotted our reflection in a street mirror. Tsukimori was holding her skirt down with her right hand, wrapping her left arm around me, and smiling dazzlingly while watching the town's scenery passing us by.

Completely unable to complain any more to a girl who entrusted her body to me, I just answered: "...Lucky you."

I kept on riding the bike while channeling all my unvoiced discontent and displeasure into pushing the pedals.

Be it because of envy or jealousy, I sensed some intensive gazes from other students on their way home. It was clear whose fault it was since I had never experienced anything of this kind when cycling alone.

I was riding a bicycle with ''Youko Tsukimori'' on the back.

This was one of those sweet moments that are worthy of being called a memory of adolescence. I, in the midst of this period of life, was probably supposed to pride myself on such an event that anyone would envy me for.

To tell the truth, I was proud enough to have a certain sense of superiority, believing that there was no one else who had something as noble as her on his carrier.

Well, this only lasted for the short while during which I forgot about her troublesome personality and the murder recipe.

During the following hours I would definitely turn into her toy, so I needed to be emotionally prepared.

I had accepted Tsukimori's request. The reason was simple: I was interested in her.

Apart from that, call it a property　of mine or just a preference: I enjoyed these thrilling conversations with her.

I changed into my waiter uniform in the staff room; I put on narrow black slacks, did up the buttons of my white shirt and the black vest above, slipped into a pair of wing tip leather shoes and lastly I wound a rather long apron around my hips. After checking my appearance in front of the mirror, just to be sure, I headed to the kitchen.

The instant I entered the kitchen, my nose was tickled by the aromatic fragrance of coffee beans—a smell I was fond of.

The reason why I had chosen to work in this British-style café "Victoria" was, as a matter of fact, because the best coffee in the vicinity was served here.

Upon spotting me, my colleagues greeted me.

"Mister Kujirai?" I addressed the broad back of a man who was grinding coffee with a hand mill. The sturdy bespectacled addressee turned around with a warm smile. I continued, "I would be in charge of waiting the tables today, but may I change to the kitchen staff?"

"What's the matter?"

"It's a personal one, I'm afraid, but to tell the truth, a classmate of mine has come today."

"Eh? Why would you want to change your post then?"

"Well, I wouldn't be able to keep my classmate company. And besides, isn't it quite embarrassing to be watched while working?"

As if I would let her watch! I knew that my resistance was childish, but this was my last stand after having failed miserably at turning her down.

There was someone apart from the shop manager who reacted sharply to my words.

"Hey, Nonomiya! Is it a guy or a gal?" asked a woman who was clothed like a pastry cook and was putting some fruit on a parfait right beside me. "If it's a guy I'll switch with you. As long as he's my type, of course!"

The whole staff grimaced as if they had taken bitter medicine when they realized that Mirai-san's ''bad habit'' had appeared again.

Her full name was Mirai Samejima. Mirai-san was the oldest face among the people at Victoria, and even the manager took his hat off to her.

According to her, she was still in university, but looking at how she behaved more important than the manager on some days—no, make that "everyday"—she gave me the impression of being older than that.

[[Image:Gekkou-075.jpg|thumb]]

"Sorry to let you down, Mirai-san: it's a girl!"

"Hmph. Well, the fact that you brought a gal along gets me interested just as much."

With skillful movements Mirai-san quickly finished the parfait and, after throwing a piece of block chocolate into her mouth, tripped to the counter from where she had an overview of all the tables.

"Who is it? Come on, spill it."

She scowled over the counter into the shop while rolling the piece of chocolate in her mouth. The other staff members, too, didn't miss the chance and scanned the café from behind her.

I was hoping someone would remonstrate with them about their snoopy behavior, but even the one who was in the position to do so—the shop manager—was peeking with a face gleaming with curiosity.

Giving up, I admitted: "It's her," and pointed at Tsukimori who had taken a seat at the window and was sitting there like an unworldly, well-educated lady.

A cheer arose among the staff; the positive reaction of the guys was so blatant that I would have felt like an idiot if I had claimed that I had expected it.

"Damn! What a beauty! Way too good for you, Nonomiya, that's for sure!"

Mirai-san was apparently irritated with something and ran her iron fist into the pit of my stomach.

"...does anybody know why I deserve to be punched?"

My trembling question was only met with pitiful glances.

"You always act as if you didn't care two figs about love, but you do your thing in the background, huh, you sneaking lech!"

Apparently, Mirai-san mistook Tsukimori and me for lovers.

"...Mirai-chan and her new boyfriend haven't been getting along lately, you know," the manager whispered into my ear.

"So it's only a matter of time until they split up, I suppose?"

"...Probably," he nodded after backing off again.

Mirai-san could be categorized as pretty if she kept quiet. As a matter of fact, she was often approached by the other sex. However, unfortunately her looks were spoiled by her unyielding personality, which was also the reason why her relationships never lasted long. I knew of none, at least.

"Mhh!? Saruwatari!? Gotten all lovestruck or what?!"

"I-I haven't! I'm not lovestruck or anything!"

"Then you better stay that way!"

Today's sacrifice was Saruwatari-san. Mirai-san's sharp kick landed straight in his buttocks.

At times when she didn't get along with her boyfriend or when she broke up with one, her mood would take a free fall.

And we at Victoria just called that ill-humored Mirai-san "the beast". Unfortunately though, there was no hero in disguise at our café. As soon as the beast went berserk, there was no solution but to weather the storm.

"Mister Kujirai, I'm off waiting the tables."

"O-Okay, good luck."

Discretion is the better part of valor after all.

The kitchen resounded with the cries of the poor man who had become the prey of the beast.

Our café was not too big: there were eight tables and six counter seats. The staff consisted of a total of 5 people, two of which attended the customers while the others worked in the kitchen. But I very much liked that relaxed and comfortable atmosphere.

The mood of this British-style café was supported by appropriate antique tables and chairs. The various well-chosen decorations were apparently selected by the manager's British wife. Apropos, the name of the café was taken from his wife's first name.

With Victoria being located on the first floor of a multi-tenant building near the station and having an interior that should please the fairer sex, there were comparatively many young women like office ladies or college students.

When I came to take her order, Tsukimori scrutinized me from head to toe.

"Your garçon outfit looks handsome."

"Waiter" would have been the proper way to address the staff here, considering that it was designed in a British style, but "garçon" is apparently more common here in Japan.

Since I judged it to be too much a trifle to correct, I only thanked her casually with a smile, "Thanks," and added, "and a café goes well with you."

Tsukimori smiled back at me and replied "Thank you."

I was quite honest. A beautiful girl in a café always makes for a good picture.

"The staff are quite lively, aren't they?"

She moved her gaze towards the kitchen.

"You could hear the commotion from here? That sure is a problem for a shop in the service industry."

I placed a glass of water and a wet towel on the table.

"But it looks fun."

"I wonder about that; some even start crying once in a while. At any rate, I have confidence in our coffee. And none of our dishes are half bad."

"I see. I would like a cup of that good coffee then. And please add your recommended confectionery to the order."

"Then how about our recommended blend plus the owner's hand-made apple pie?"

Since Tsukimori nodded, I bowed respectfully and said "Certainly."

I forwarded the order to the kitchen staff.

"You sure are an unfriendly guy."

Mirai-san was there making a frown instead of food.

"You think so? Actually I am trying to be more amiable when I attend guests, though."

"When does that happen? To me, there's no difference. Seriously, what does she like about a guy like you?"

Her eyebrow raised, she sceptically mustered Tsukimori.

"I forgot to mention, but she is not my girlfriend."

"She isn't?"

"No. Just a classmate."

"Then tell me what a beauty and mere classmate wants from you."

"It's not me, it's the café. Apparently she is a fan of cafés."

Since there was no merit at all in telling her the truth, I just made something up.

"That's all? Boring."

"As always, you are so self-centered it's almost refreshing. I'm dead sure you would have been irritated even if she was my lover."

"It's refreshing because I'm honest! To begin with, I think there must be something wrong with those that are delighted about other people's happiness. Every one of them is either a hypocrite or just scheming something."

"A lovely opinion loaded with prejudice, I have to say."

I wasn't as dismissive as I may have appeared, though. In fact, in my mind I even had to agree with her–is it because of that warped personality of mine?

I felt inclined to ask her, who was "honest" by her own judgment and "erratic" by everyone else's, for her opinion regarding a certain question.

"Mirai-san, may I ask you something?"

"Mh? What is it?"

"What do you think about someone who doesn't grieve over their misfortune?"

"Sounds fishy to me," she answered quick as a shot. "Misfortunes are called that because you they make you sad, right? If you don't get sad, then you can't call it a misfortune."

"I see," this time I actually put my agreement into words.

I darted a sidelong glance at Tsukimori.

Tired of waiting or just interested in the café's decoration, she was looking around the shop. Apparently, the white ceramic cat and black glass cat set was to her liking; she stood up and examined it up close.

Who in this café would have guessed that she was in fact a hapless girl who had lost her father only recently?

I reckoned nobody.

One could never observe a stirring of extreme emotions in her. She would always appear calm and mature.

I didn't know whether she purposely controlled her feelings or just simply wasn't the type of person to show them, but she didn't look sad ''at all'' to me.

Of course, it wasn't unthinkable that she just didn't want to unsettle the people around her and was thus desperately hiding her sadness. Or that might actually be the normal reaction of a girl after such a mishap. After all, the deceased wouldn't return, and mourning forever can't be called very healthy either.

But those are just pieces of theory. Is it really possible to deal with one's feelings in such a short time? Especially if it's sadness?

I recalled Mirai-san's words.

Indeed. It seemed fishy.

The dessert was able to satisfy Tsukimori's tastes.

"It's delicious," she praised while happily finishing up her coffee and apple pie without leaving anything over.

I headed to her table to clear up.

"Has everything been to your liking?" I asked, whereupon Tsukimori darted a discontented glance at me.

"Are you telling me to leave?"

"I see you are quick on the uptake."

"I really like this café."

She flashed a smile as if she would start to hum any moment.

"Aha. Pleased to hear that. But don't forget that there are lots of different cafés in the world. You ought to try them out as well."

"I really like this café," repeated Tsukimori with exactly the same smile and exactly the same words.

"I see sometimes you aren't quick on the uptake," I mostly repeated myself as well.

Suddenly Tsukimori stood up and walked further into the shop, apparently towards the kitchen. When I followed in wonder, she was giving the staff a natural greeting and smiling like a blooming flower.

"Pleased to meet you."

It was obvious at a glance that her rosy greeting got the staff flustered. Apparently all of them were quite excited about her. Well, except for Mirai-san who remained unimpressed.

"I am Youko Tsukimori, a classmate of Nonomiya-kun's," she introduced herself with polite manners.

"Ah, yes, Nonomiya-kun told us," answered the manager respectfully despite being way older than her.

"I have to say this is such an adorable little café."

"Thank you very much!"

The manager blushed slightly, moved by her radiant smile.

"I am so jealous of everyone—"

The staff looked at her in surprise. A girl, who seemed to have anything one could be jealous of, was jealous of them.

"—Because you have the privilege to work at such a wonderful café."

Youko Tsukimori looked plainly stunning, set aflame in the twilight.  Although that was probably due to the backlight from the sunset. In that very moment, everyone was fascinated by her exceptional aura.

"I can't even imagine what bliss it would be to work at such a wonderful place."

Being the person in this room that had the most resistance against her, I smiled wryly at her star-like attitude. I also found that she had gone over the top with that exorbitant exaggeration.

However, the manager's next words erased the smile on my lips.

"...um, Tsukimori-san, you said?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to work here?"

"Mister Kujirai—"

I couldn't keep silent. I wanted to keep him from committing a grave mistake. Faust, you are bargaining with Mephistopheles!

However, someone seized my shoulder and held me back. The smell of chocolate was in the air.

"Just watch," Mirai-san said with a mischievous smile. Here we had another devil.

"Err, actually, there is a vacant post at the moment. And since you are Nonomiya-kun's classmate, we don't have to worry about your background. So, if you'd like, we would gladly welcome you, Tsukimori-san."

The other staff members nodded their heads in agreement, too.

It was just like group hypnosis. They must have been mesmerized by the devil and lost their minds.

"I am really happy about your offer, but... can you really make do with me? To tell you the truth, I have never worked anywhere before," answered Tsukimori hesitatingly after wavering for a short while.

"No no, don't worry! Everyone has to begin somewhere. Besides, I'm positive that you, as someone with outstanding manners, are suited for this kind of business!"

Sure, her acceptance among the customers would be outstanding! They can only see her superficial side after all.

"I'll gladly accept your offer then if you have so much confidence in me," replied Tsukimori with a bright smile.

Everyone welcomed her warmly with a smile as well. I was the only one who made a sour face, while feeling awfully removed from that ring of blessings.

Because I knew better.

I knew that a bold and determined character lurked beneath her surface, which showed only a beautiful girl of excellent character who was thus loved by everyone.

To make things worse, bright Tsukimori was well aware of her own attractiveness. And just now I learned that she also knew how to use it correctly.

"Why are men just so weak against pretty girls?" whispered Mirai-san into my ear after she had pulled me by the shoulder, the counter between us.

"A good question. After all, the guys in this café are all 'weak' against you as well," I answered casually.

"It feels just wrong when you're giving compliments. But it's no bad feeling. Let me pet your head as a reward."

Mirai-san's palm approached my head, but I refused gloomily. "I'm not in the mood. Please don't confuse me any further."

"No need to be reserved! If you want, I may even give you one piece of my chocolate?"

"Are you okay with it? Aren't you against the employment of Tsukimori?"

"You want me to object, don't you?"

"Well, only your objection would be able to put an end to this welcoming mood."

"Can't be bothered. There's no reason to object."

"Why?"

I was surprised that Mirai-san would allow such a farce.

"Because it's damn funny to see you protest so blatantly when you act so cold usually!!"

Mirai-san cackled.

"...you do realize how awful your personality is?"

"You're worse off than I am, right? If my intuition doesn't fail me, Tsukimori isn't the type of woman a helpless guy like you could handle."

"Doesn't bother me. I don't plan on making a move on her."

"''You'' may think so, but what about her?"

Mirai-san narrowed her eyes and peeked searchingly into my face from close up.

"No use punching me, for your information."

"Yeah yeah. Looking forward to the next few days."

Without caring about my strong rebuff, Mirai-san waved her hand and toddled back into the kitchen.

It felt like it was just a matter of time until she would get wind of our odd relationship—a woman's intuition?

I told myself that I had to make sure Tsukimori wouldn't say any unnecessary things to Mirai-san.

"I work here now."

The girl in question, Tsukimori, approached me merrily in spite of all the headaches she was causing me.

"It's still not too late. Won't you think it over again?"

My reply was cold, but my heart was colder.

"Thank you for worrying about me. But since the manager was so kind to offer me this position, I will try my best!"

She cutely clenched her fist full of confidence.

"I'm not worrying. I am bothered."

"I am looking forward to working with you, colleague."

Tsukimori's smile hadn't cracked even once.

Mirai-san had mentioned that I was not someone who could handle her.

I found myself right in the course of experiencing just how spot-on she was.

The next morning in the classroom.

All of a sudden, Tsukimori came to my desk and said with a smile as warm as sunbeams shining through the leaves of a tree and a voice as soft as a gentle summer breeze to Usami:

"I have been employed at the café Nonomiya-kun works at."

Time stopped in the noisy classroom. At least, Usami did—like a clock whose battery had run dry.

"...eh? Youko-san? You work together with Nonomiya? Why? Eeh?"

Her bewilderment made her look like one of those automatons that jump out of striking clocks every hour.

It was like a déja-vu of yesterday.

"The shop manager asked me to help them out because there was a shortage of staff. I am a little anxious because, well, I have never worked anywhere before. But the manager assured me that I will be fine," explained Tsukimori unaffectedly.

"You should talk! ...You're the one who made him say that."

It was me, naturally, who spit out those words in a volume no one could perceive.

"Maybe I should join you..."

"Don't skip your club. You have to do your best and become a regular player."

I was able to predict the direction this conversation would take, so I put a stop to it in advance.

"Why don't you stop by this weekend, Chizuru? I may not be able to keep you company since there's still a lot I have to learn, but there's still Nonomiya-kun. Right, Nonomiya-kun?"

I glared at her smiling face for the brink of a second. She tilted her head slightly, asking "Hm?" and retaining her unbreakable smile.

"Yeah, you're always welcome in our café, Usami."

I swore to myself to complain to Tsukimori afterward.

"Okay! I'll drop by! I'll definitely drop by!"

Usami rejoiced grandly, her eyes sparkling. Her straightforward reaction made a good deal of my gloomy mood just flow away.

But there was a serious problem. Judging from the looks of my classmates, it was obvious that they would raid the café this weekend. And this time it seemed quite difficult to stop them.

"Listen up, everyone! Nonomiya is giving us some explanations!!"

Kamogawa came clapping me on the shoulder with a disgustingly gentle smile. Behind him stood a group of guys with the same disgusting smile on their faces. It was the guys-alliance, and they demanded justice from the one who had stolen the march from them. 

It was sickening.

"I am so going to protest to Tsukimori," I swore determinedly.

<noinclude>
{{Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Confession|Confession]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Bitter Chocolate|Bitter Chocolate]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]

Gekkou:Volume 1 In The Café

2011-10-26T20:45:11Z

Andrewgr: could also replace comma/colon with ", but"

==[In The Café]==

All of a sudden Tsukimori came to my desk and said, with a smile as warm as sunbeams shining through the leaves of a tree and a voice as soft as a gentle summer breeze:

"Shall we go then, Nonomiya-kun?"

Time stopped in the noisy classroom. At least, my train of thought did.

Everyone suspended what he or she was doing and looked over to us. Usami was the first to regain time.

"...eh? Youko-san? Are you tagging along with Nonomiya? Why? Eeh?"

Her bewilderment made her look like one of those automatons that jump out of striking clocks every hour.

"I wanted to pay the café Nonomiya-kun works at a visit since I heard it's very comfortable there. And as you know, I have been quite busy lately, so I was a little tired and thought about relaxing there while enjoying a cup of tea. Well, that's why ''I asked'' Nonomiya-kun!"

Tsukimori was obviously taking into consideration that we were being watched by our classmates.

"Is that true, Nonomiya?"

I had already expected that I would be the next target to be questioned.

"It is."

Thus, I somehow managed not to reveal my discontent.

"Maybe I should join you..."

I almost blacked out upon hearing her murmur. Tsukimori alone was already enough trouble—I couldn't manage both of them at the same time.

"Aren't your club activities waiting for you?"

Usami was in the volleyball club. She was gifted with strength in her arms that didn't suit her small body: her spikes made the guys look old. I remembered all too well how relieved I was to be on the same team after witnessing her spike during PE.

"I-I'll skip!"

"Don't. Didn't you say only recently that you were on the brink of becoming a regular player? It would be foolish to skip your club activities during such an important period."

Usami pressed her lips into a line and grumbled with a frown.

"Let's go together some other time, Chizuru. I will memorize where the café is for you, today. Okay?"

Tsukimori admonished her gently like a caring sister, whereupon Usami obediently nodded, "Okay."

One problem solved. I then went on getting rid of the remaining issues.

"It's really just you who's coming, right? If the whole bunch were to come along, I'd have to refuse because that would only cause the café trouble."

That was a prompt. I indicated to Tsukimori that I would only give my consent if she cleared that condition.

"Don't worry, our classmates are so kind, they would never cause anyone trouble," she ensured with a ladylike smile, "See you tomorrow, everyone."

She elegantly waved her hand at her classmates.

They would have jumped at that chance for sure. The guys, among them Kamogawa, and the girls who admired Tsukimori put their disappointment clearly on display. But not one of them would even think of betraying angelic Youko Tsukimori's trust.

But equally, I was not capable enough to do something against the situation she had induced. I had no choice but to unwillingly go along with her.

Tsukimori walked with light steps towards the front gate.

"What are you up to?" I asked her delicate back, without hiding my bad mood.

Tsukimori turned around, making her long hair flutter in the wind.

"I am so curious about the café you work at," she said, without hiding her good mood.

"Answer me! You should know that I don't like standing out."

"Which is why I tried to prevent a commotion, didn't I?"

"That doesn't change the fact that we attracted attention."

"Well, tough luck."

"And whose fault is that...?" I was irritated by her out-and-out undaunted behavior. "Who told you that I work at a café anyway?"

"I heard it from rumors!"

"Don't lie."

It was well-known that I work part-time somewhere, but I hadn't told anyone at school that I was working at a café.

"What are you after?"

"What do you think I am, Nonomiya-kun? It is not strange at all to desire to learn more about the person in my heart, is it? This is what you call a pure girl's heart."

"You claim to be pure girl? Laughable. Let me assert this for you: you are nowhere near as harmless as that."

I sneered.

"You know, looking so mature can be a real bother at such times. I am still just a seventeen-year-old girl. Besides, I have only recently lost my father, so I think you ought to be gentler to me, Nonomiya-kun," pouted Tsukimori. I was surprised that she could make such childish expressions, too.

But that was as far as it went. Of course I felt sorry for her, but in the end it was still none of my business.

"See you tomorrow."

I accelerated my pace and put some distance between me and Tsukimori.

"Where are you going? There's the back gate."

"Unlike you, I commute by bicycle and not by train. If you can keep up with my speed, I shall take the special trouble and guide you to the café?" I was deliberately cold. I couldn't be bothered to adjust to others. And I cared even less to have someone enter my territory without authorization. 

"Yes, let's go with that. I just hope my back will not hurt from it, but well, I have always wanted do that once."

However, Tsukimori was even less harmless than I had expected. Before I knew it, she was walking next to me.

"...what are you thinking?"

"I have always wanted to do that at least once! Riding a bicycle à deux."
"When did I say I'd let you?"

"Don't worry. I should not be too heavy."

"That wasn't the question."

I was annoyed. As she showed no restraint I decided on saying my piece without restraint as well.

"I admit that I may be supposed to be gentler to you as you've just lost your father. However, I don't feel like dancing to your tune like the others, not in the least. Not everyone is considerate towards you, keep that in mind. At least now that I know your true nature, I might still feel sympathy but I am certainly not favorable towards you," I rebuked her.

"Mmm! That's how my Nonomiya-kun has to be," Tsukimori nodded strongly, making a somewhat contented face. "I love this unashamed attitude."

My words had achieved the exact opposite effect. Wanting to put her off, I accidentally attracted her all the more.

Seeing my loss for words, she showed me her occasional big-sister-like smile.

"Won't you give me a chance? I have realized by now that my confession yesterday was overhasty! Just like you don't know how I really am, I don't know you well yet, either. I think it is necessary for both of us to deepen our mutual understanding. It's not too late to make a decision after coming to know each other better, right?"

Her opinion was fair enough.

But when I looked back at what had happened so far, I didn't feel like believing her words blindly.

I peeked into Tsukimori's eyes.

What was she thinking?

She did not avoid my glance in the slightest. In her big, almond-shaped eyes I could clearly see my own reflection.

It was I who gave in at last. I released her from my gaze and mounted my bicycle.

"—Get on."

"Thank you!"

I heard her cheerful voice.

After she had gotten on the carrier, I took off. She was light, just as she had said herself.

"Promise me that you won't do anything that would bring me into focus anymore like today."

"I'll do my best."

"No, not just your best, promise it."

"Nonomiya-kun, the wind feels so pleasant. Riding a bicycle together is even better than I thought."

I spotted our reflection in a street mirror. Tsukimori was holding her skirt down with her right hand, wrapping her left arm around me, and smiling dazzlingly while watching the town's scenery passing us by.

Completely unable to complain any more to a girl who entrusted her body to me, I just answered: "...Lucky you."

I kept on riding the bike while channeling all my unvoiced discontent and displeasure into pushing the pedals.

Be it because of envy or jealousy, I sensed some intensive gazes from other students on their way home. It was clear whose fault it was since I had never experienced anything of this kind when cycling alone.

I was riding a bicycle with ''Youko Tsukimori'' on the back.

This was one of those sweet moments that are worthy of being called a memory of adolescence. I, in the midst of this period of life, was probably supposed to pride myself on such an event that anyone would envy me for.

To tell the truth, I was proud enough to have a certain sense of superiority, believing that there was no one else who had something as noble as her on his carrier.

Well, this only lasted for the short while during which I forgot about her troublesome personality and the murder recipe.

During the following hours I would definitely turn into her toy, so I needed to be emotionally prepared.

I had accepted Tsukimori's request. The reason was simple: I was interested in her.

Apart from that, call it a property　of mine or just a preference: I enjoyed these thrilling conversations with her.

I changed into my waiter uniform in the staff room; I put on narrow black slacks, did up the buttons of my white shirt and the black vest above, slipped into a pair of wing tip leather shoes and lastly I wound a rather long apron around my hips. After checking my appearance in front of the mirror, just to be sure, I headed to the kitchen.

The instant I entered the kitchen, my nose was tickled by the aromatic fragrance of coffee beans—a smell I was fond of.

The reason why I had chosen to work in this British-style café "Victoria" was, as a matter of fact, because the best coffee in the vicinity was served here.

Upon spotting me, my colleagues greeted me.

"Mister Kujirai?" I addressed the broad back of a man who was grinding coffee with a hand mill. The sturdy bespectacled addressee turned around with a warm smile. I continued, "I would be in charge of waiting the tables today, but may I change to the kitchen staff?"

"What's the matter?"

"It's a personal one, I'm afraid, but to tell the truth, a classmate of mine has come today."

"Eh? Why would you want to change your post then?"

"Well, I wouldn't be able to keep my classmate company. And besides, isn't it quite embarrassing to be watched while working?"

As if I would let her watch! I knew that my resistance was childish, but this was my last stand after having failed miserably at turning her down.

There was someone apart from the shop manager who reacted sharply to my words.

"Hey, Nonomiya! Is it a guy or a gal?" asked a woman who was clothed like a pastry cook and was putting some fruit on a parfait right beside me. "If it's a guy I'll switch with you. As long as he's my type, of course!"

The whole staff grimaced as if they had taken bitter medicine when they realized that Mirai-san's ''bad habit'' had appeared again.

Her full name was Mirai Samejima. Mirai-san was the oldest face among the people at Victoria, and even the manager took his hat off to her.

According to her, she was still in university, but looking at how she behaved more important than the manager on some days—no, make that "everyday"—she gave me the impression of being older than that.

[[Image:Gekkou-075.jpg|thumb]]

"Sorry to let you down, Mirai-san: it's a girl!"

"Hmph. Well, the fact that you brought a gal along gets me interested just as much."

With skillful movements Mirai-san quickly finished the parfait and, after throwing a piece of block chocolate into her mouth, tripped to the counter from where she had an overview of all the tables.

"Who is it? Come on, spill it."

She scowled over the counter into the shop while rolling the piece of chocolate in her mouth. The other staff members, too, didn't miss the chance and scanned the café from behind her.

I was hoping someone would remonstrate with them about their snoopy behavior, but even the one who was in the position to do so—the shop manager—was peeking with a face gleaming with curiosity.

Giving up, I admitted: "It's her," and pointed at Tsukimori who had taken a seat at the window and was sitting there like an unworldly, well-educated lady.

A cheer arose among the staff; the positive reaction of the guys was so blatant that I would have felt like an idiot if I had claimed that I had expected it.

"Damn! What a beauty! Way too good for you, Nonomiya, that's for sure!"

Mirai-san was apparently irritated with something and ran her iron fist into the pit of my stomach.

"...does anybody know why I deserve to be punched?"

My trembling question was only met with pitiful glances.

"You always act as if you didn't care two figs about love, but you do your thing in the background, huh, you sneaking lech!"

Apparently, Mirai-san mistook Tsukimori and me for lovers.

"...Mirai-chan and her new boyfriend haven't been getting along lately, you know," the manager whispered into my ear.

"So it's only a matter of time until they split up, I suppose?"

"...Probably," he nodded after backing off again.

Mirai-san could be categorized as pretty if she kept quiet. As a matter of fact, she was often approached by the other sex. However, unfortunately her looks were spoiled by her unyielding personality, which was also the reason why her relationships never lasted long. I knew of none, at least.

"Mhh!? Saruwatari!? Gotten all lovestruck or what?!"

"I-I haven't! I'm not lovestruck or anything!"

"Then you better stay that way!"

Today's sacrifice was Saruwatari-san. Mirai-san's sharp kick landed straight in his buttocks.

At times when she didn't get along with her boyfriend or when she broke up with one, her mood would take a free fall.

And we at Victoria just called that ill-humored Mirai-san "the beast". Unfortunately though, there was no hero in disguise at our café. As soon as the beast went berserk, there was no solution but to weather the storm.

"Mister Kujirai, I'm off waiting the tables."

"O-Okay, good luck."

Discretion is the better part of valor after all.

The kitchen resounded with the cries of the poor man who had become the prey of the beast.

Our café was not too big: there were eight tables and six counter seats. The staff consisted of a total of 5 people, two of which attended the customers while the others worked in the kitchen. But I very much liked that relaxed and comfortable atmosphere.

The mood of this British-style café was supported by appropriate antique tables and chairs. The various well-chosen decorations were apparently selected by the manager's British wife. Apropos, the name of the café was taken from his wife's first name.

With Victoria being located on the first floor of a multi-tenant building near the station and having an interior that should please the fairer sex, there were comparatively many young women like office ladies or college students.

When I came to take her order, Tsukimori scrutinized me from head to toe.

"Your garçon outfit looks handsome."

"Waiter" would have been the proper way to address the staff here, considering that it was designed in a British style, but "garçon" is apparently more common here in Japan.

Since I judged it to be too much a trifle to correct, I only thanked her casually with a smile, "Thanks," and added, "and a café goes well with you."

Tsukimori smiled back at me and replied "Thank you."

I was quite honest. A beautiful girl in a café always makes for a good picture.

"The staff are quite lively, aren't they?"

She moved her gaze towards the kitchen.

"You could hear the commotion from here? That sure is a problem for a shop in the service industry."

I placed a glass of water and a wet towel on the table.

"But it looks fun."

"I wonder about that; some even start crying once in a while. At any rate, I have confidence in our coffee. And none of our dishes are half bad."

"I see. I would like a cup of that good coffee then. And please add your recommended confectionery to the order."

"Then how about our recommended blend plus the owner's hand-made apple pie?"

Since Tsukimori nodded, I bowed respectfully and said "Certainly."

I forwarded the order to the kitchen staff.

"You sure are an unfriendly guy."

Mirai-san was there making a frown instead of food.

"You think so? Actually I am trying to be more amiable when I attend guests, though."

"When does that happen? To me, there's no difference. Seriously, what does she like about a guy like you?"

Her eyebrow raised, she sceptically mustered Tsukimori.

"I forgot to mention, but she is not my girlfriend."

"She isn't?"

"No. Just a classmate."

"Then tell me what a beauty and mere classmate wants from you."

"It's not me, it's the café. Apparently she is a fan of cafés."

Since there was no merit at all in telling her the truth, I just made something up.

"That's all? Boring."

"As always, you are so self-centered it's almost refreshing. I'm dead sure you would have been irritated even if she was my lover."

"It's refreshing because I'm honest! To begin with, I think there must be something wrong with those that are delighted about other people's happiness. Every one of them is either a hypocrite or just scheming something."

"A lovely opinion loaded with prejudice, I have to say."

I wasn't as dismissive as I may have appeared, though. In fact, in my mind I even had to agree with her–is it because of that warped personality of mine?

I felt inclined to ask her, who was "honest" by her own judgment and "erratic" by everyone else's, for her opinion regarding a certain question.

"Mirai-san, may I ask you something?"

"Mh? What is it?"

"What do you think about someone who doesn't grieve over their misfortune?"

"Sounds fishy to me," she answered quick as a shot. "Misfortunes are called that because you they make you sad, right? If you don't get sad, then you can't call it a misfortune."

"I see," this time I actually put my agreement into words.

I darted a sidelong glance at Tsukimori.

Tired of waiting or just interested in the café's decoration, she was looking around the shop. Apparently, the white ceramic cat and black glass cat set was to her liking; she stood up and examined it up close.

Who in this café would have guessed that she was in fact a hapless girl who had lost her father only recently?

I reckoned nobody.

One could never observe a stirring of extreme emotions in her. She would always appear calm and mature.

I didn't know whether she purposely controlled her feelings or just simply wasn't the type of person to show them, but she didn't look sad ''at all'' to me.

Of course, it wasn't unthinkable that she just didn't want to unsettle the people around her and was thus desperately hiding her sadness. Or that might actually be the normal reaction of a girl after such a mishap. After all, the deceased wouldn't return, and mourning forever can't be called very healthy either.

But those are just pieces of theory. Is it really possible to deal with one's feelings in such a short time? Especially if it's sadness?

I recalled Mirai-san's words.

Indeed. It seemed fishy.

The dessert was able to satisfy Tsukimori's tastes.

"It's delicious," she praised while happily finishing up her coffee and apple pie without leaving anything over.

I headed to her table to clear up.

"Has everything been to your liking?" I asked, whereupon Tsukimori darted a discontent glance at me.

"Are you telling me to leave?"

"I see you are quick on the uptake."

"I really like this café."

She flashed a smile as if she would start to hum any moment.

"Aha. Pleased to hear that. But don't forget that there are lots of different cafés in the world. You ought to try them out as well."

"I really like this café," repeated Tsukimori with exactly the same smile and exactly the same words.

"I see sometimes you aren't quick on the uptake," I mostly repeated myself as well.

Suddenly Tsukimori stood up and walked further into the shop, apparently towards the kitchen. When I followed in wonder, she was giving the staff a natural greeting and smiling like a blooming flower.

"Pleased to meet you."

It was obvious at a glance that her rosy greeting got the staff flustered. Apparently all of them were quite excited about her. Well, except for Mirai-san who remained unimpressed.

"I am Youko Tsukimori, a classmate of Nonomiya-kun's," she introduced herself with polite manners.

"Ah, yes, Nonomiya-kun told us," answered the manager respectfully despite being way older than her.

"I have to say this is such an adorable little café."

"Thank you very much!"

The manager blushed slightly, moved by her radiant smile.

"I am so jealous of everyone—"

The staff looked at her in surprise. A girl, who seemed to have anything one could be jealous of, was jealous of them.

"—Because you have the privilege to work at such a wonderful café."

Youko Tsukimori looked plainly stunning, set aflame in the twilight.  Although that was probably due to the backlight from the sunset. In that very moment, everyone was fascinated by her exceptional aura.

"I can't even imagine what bliss it would be to work at such a wonderful place."

Being the person in this room that had the most resistance against her, I smiled wryly at her star-like attitude. I also found that she had gone over the top with that exorbitant exaggeration.

However, the manager's next words erased the smile on my lips.

"...um, Tsukimori-san, you said?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to work here?"

"Mister Kujirai—"

I couldn't keep silent. I wanted to keep him from committing a grave mistake. Faust, you are bargaining with Mephistopheles!

However, someone seized my shoulder and held me back. The smell of chocolate was in the air.

"Just watch," Mirai-san said with a mischievous smile. Here we had another devil.

"Err, actually, there is a vacant post at the moment. And since you are Nonomiya-kun's classmate, we don't have to worry about your background. So, if you'd like, we would gladly welcome you, Tsukimori-san."

The other staff members nodded their heads in agreement, too.

It was just like group hypnosis. They must have been mesmerized by the devil and lost their minds.

"I am really happy about your offer, but... can you really make do with me? To tell you the truth, I have never worked anywhere before," answered Tsukimori hesitatingly after wavering for a short while.

"No no, don't worry! Everyone has to begin somewhere. Besides, I'm positive that you, as someone with outstanding manners, are suited for this kind of business!"

Sure, her acceptance among the customers would be outstanding! They can only see her superficial side after all.

"I'll gladly accept your offer then if you have so much confidence in me," replied Tsukimori with a bright smile.

Everyone welcomed her warmly with a smile as well. I was the only one who made a sour face, while feeling awfully removed from that ring of blessings.

Because I knew better.

I knew that a bold and determined character lurked beneath her surface, which showed only a beautiful girl of excellent character who was thus loved by everyone.

To make things worse, bright Tsukimori was well aware of her own attractiveness. And just now I learned that she also knew how to use it correctly.

"Why are men just so weak against pretty girls?" whispered Mirai-san into my ear after she had pulled me by the shoulder, the counter between us.

"A good question. After all, the guys in this café are all 'weak' against you as well," I answered casually.

"It feels just wrong when you're giving compliments. But it's no bad feeling. Let me pet your head as a reward."

Mirai-san's palm approached my head, but I refused gloomily. "I'm not in the mood. Please don't confuse me any further."

"No need to be reserved! If you want, I may even give you one piece of my chocolate?"

"Are you okay with it? Aren't you against the employment of Tsukimori?"

"You want me to object, don't you?"

"Well, only your objection would be able to put an end to this welcoming mood."

"Can't be bothered. There's no reason to object."

"Why?"

I was surprised that Mirai-san would allow such a farce.

"Because it's damn funny to see you protest so blatantly when you act so cold usually!!"

Mirai-san cackled.

"...you do realize how awful your personality is?"

"You're worse off than I am, right? If my intuition doesn't fail me, Tsukimori isn't the type of woman a helpless guy like you could handle."

"Doesn't bother me. I don't plan on making a move on her."

"''You'' may think so, but what about her?"

Mirai-san narrowed her eyes and peeked searchingly into my face from close up.

"No use punching me, for your information."

"Yeah yeah. Looking forward to the next few days."

Without caring about my strong rebuff, Mirai-san waved her hand and toddled back into the kitchen.

It felt like it was just a matter of time until she would get wind of our odd relationship—a woman's intuition?

I told myself that I had to make sure Tsukimori wouldn't say any unnecessary things to Mirai-san.

"I work here now."

The girl in question, Tsukimori, approached me merrily in spite of all the headaches she was causing me.

"It's still not too late. Won't you think it over again?"

My reply was cold, but my heart was colder.

"Thank you for worrying about me. But since the manager was so kind to offer me this position, I will try my best!"

She cutely clenched her fist full of confidence.

"I'm not worrying. I am bothered."

"I am looking forward to working with you, colleague."

Tsukimori's smile hadn't cracked even once.

Mirai-san had mentioned that I was not someone who could handle her.

I found myself right in the course of experiencing just how spot-on she was.

The next morning in the classroom.

All of a sudden, Tsukimori came to my desk and said with a smile as warm as sunbeams shining through the leaves of a tree and a voice as soft as a gentle summer breeze to Usami:

"I have been employed at the café Nonomiya-kun works at."

Time stopped in the noisy classroom. At least, Usami did—like a clock whose battery had run dry.

"...eh? Youko-san? You work together with Nonomiya? Why? Eeh?"

Her bewilderment made her look like one of those automatons that jump out of striking clocks every hour.

It was like a déja-vu of yesterday.

"The shop manager asked me to help them out because there was a shortage of staff. I am a little anxious because, well, I have never worked anywhere before. But the manager assured me that I will be fine," explained Tsukimori unaffectedly.

"You should talk! ...You're the one who made him say that."

It was me, naturally, who spit out those words in a volume no one could perceive.

"Maybe I should join you..."

"Don't skip your club. You have to do your best and become a regular player."

I was able to predict the direction this conversation would take, so I put a stop to it in advance.

"Why don't you stop by this weekend, Chizuru? I may not be able to keep you company since there's still a lot I have to learn, but there's still Nonomiya-kun. Right, Nonomiya-kun?"

I glared at her smiling face for the brink of a second. She tilted her head slightly, asking "Hm?" and retaining her unbreakable smile.

"Yeah, you're always welcome in our café, Usami."

I swore to myself to complain to Tsukimori afterward.

"Okay! I'll drop by! I'll definitely drop by!"

Usami rejoiced grandly, her eyes sparkling. Her straightforward reaction made a good deal of my gloomy mood just flow away.

But there was a serious problem. Judging from the looks of my classmates, it was obvious that they would raid the café this weekend. And this time it seemed quite difficult to stop them.

"Listen up, everyone! Nonomiya is giving us some explanations!!"

Kamogawa came clapping me on the shoulder with a disgustingly gentle smile. Behind him stood a group of guys with the same disgusting smile on their faces. It was the guys-alliance, and they demanded justice from the one who had stolen the march from them. 

It was sickening.

"I am so going to protest to Tsukimori," I swore determinedly.

<noinclude>
{{Navigation|Gekkou|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Confession|Confession]]|
[[Gekkou:Volume 1 Bitter Chocolate|Bitter Chocolate]]}}
</noinclude>

[[Category:Gekkou]]