Editing Denpa Onna to Seishun Otoko:Volume2 Chapter7

==Chapter 7 - The Prayer of Tsiolkovsky==

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"He was brought away by the gods."

That's what Tamura Obaa-chan said twenty eight years ago, when her husband, the Ojii-chan, passed away.

I was only twelve at the time, about to attend middle school the following year.

"It was a cattle mutilation — it must have been.”

From the farewell ceremony, the interment till home, Obaa-chan never cried. At the time, her face could still be called 'Oba-chan,' and there were less wrinkles. But she cried till her face was like now… Of course that'd never happened. For us bystander, she looked unmoved.

Even though it's already dusk, she sat in front of the register and ran the store. The grown-ups all said she's traumatized and pitied her. My brother dragged me there, where we sat quietly and listened to Obaa-chan's story.

“The gods are terrible beings. Unlike with other animals, they never take away the organs, but only the souls of people before leaving the body. Jii-san's body was very much pristine.”

After going to sleep, Ojii-chan never woke up. His face was peaceful, even though he wasn't that old.

The cause of death was unknown. Doctors looked over him, but they never found the reason. Perhaps because of that, Obaa-chan thought he was taken by the gods.

“People are gods' toy, as well as guinea pigs — such cruelty.”

Nii-san silently ate his chocolate popsicle; because the stick didn't say 'freebie,' he frowned — at least that's what he wanted us to think.

Nii-san, who loved Ojii-chan the most, cried in his futon after making sure everyone else went to sleep. We pretended to be asleep, staring as he sobbed. No one joined him.

Obaa-chan looked up to the alien signature personally forged by Objii-chan. It looked just like the signatures of baseball players I've seen on TV. “Plagiarism.” Obaa-chan grumbled.

At then, I didn't know what to say to Obaa-chan.

Since I had no comment, I merely questioned like usual:

“Are gods aliens?”

Obaa-chan squeezed a face full of wrinkles, either crying or laughing:

“Yes, the gods are aliens. That's why so many things are beyond our control.”

On the day that I woke to that dream, I had turned forty. June 6th, an easily memorized birthday.

“Really...” I used to play the sister character pretty well too! Just kidding! “Uwoahh...” Stiff shoulder in the morning already.

To escape the ceiling of reality, I rolled over on the bed. Ughh, can't move. Must be because of the sore on my leg.

“Ow, ow...” In their competition, the sore of the leg seemed worse than the shoulders'. My calves refused to work, currently boycotting; as if to wake me up, the pain and heat rose higher and higher.

“Towel… Uwoah.” Can't raise my right arm. The upper arm ruined the team formation, obstructing all efforts. Who would have known that the capturing activity from two days ago would show its repercussion today?

“But!” My tongue and jaw doesn't hurt when I move. “I'm seriously getting old.” How could you say that!

“E-easy peasy!” One-legged hop, step, and hop. I lightly… crawled up. After a bit of effort, I rolled to the side and got up on the table. Ughh, my waist… Is this the result of bending my back while stalking forward? I'll take the day off. Ah, but I still have to go feed 'them.'

Perhaps exhausted, I seemed to have woken up at a time that's highly inappropriate for functional adults. Glancing at the clock, I learned that it's past eleven.

Slowly taking off my pajama, I pulled open the pink curtain. Clear lights rare during the rain season suffused outside: it was a sunny day. But the rain was sneaking up. In the forty years of my life, I became disliking of the month. Because, it symbolized the time of separation.

Elliot, Ojii-chan, and even Nii-san becoming a June's groom in a different town— they all counted as departure. Then, there's my age. Especially my age. “Heeyah~” I attempted to intimidate someone with a mantis pose. With nothing covering me, this might be too much for any young men.

“It'd be bad for Mako-kun's growth!” Mm, mm~ I stopped, playing as an educator. If Nii-san visits and gave me a 'I picked the wrong person…' it'd be troubling. So, I treat my niece like a cat.

Clothing finished. Makeup… Whatever. Just give it a good smudge before leaving.

I rummaged through the dressing table and found the pain relief patches. I've been using these too much recently, and I think the smell's transferring onto me. I peeled yesterday's off and slapped the new one on my leg. “Kyah~” The cold sensation made me jump; the feeling is almost becoming a high. Is this patch addiction?

“Okay~” I walked around the room. After getting used to it, I noticed it hurt more when I stand still.

Wandering around, I contemplated. Thinking — my essence, and my all.

Today is Meme-chin's birthday~ Laundry or cleaning, I'm not gonna do it~

“Uwoh~” Imagination. Telling Erio my birthday. “H-happy...” I'm not happy at all!

“Uwoh~” Imagination number two. Telling Mako-kun my birthday. “Oh, happy birthday.” I just said I'm not… Gah!

“Uwoh~” Imagination number three. A cake with forty candles. Because of the abundant candles, it looks like a mountain of swords for flower arrangement. When I blew on the candles 'fuu' the flame set Erio's hair on fire. She rolled in a panic. The table that's been knocked over. The turkey and everyone's faces are messed up. What a tragedy!

“Hnng~” I put my hand up against my chin. “Ow!” The scratches on the back of my hand stung still. I'm not too popular with animals other than humans! I've been bullied before in elementary school by a band of rabbits during feeding duty. My brother, on the other hand, could lead a band with chickens, rabbits and ducks behind him. Is it because of some smell on him? For me, the only smell he has is of home.

“Sniff, sniff...” I tried smelling myself. No old people smell yet. Of course not! Rude.

“Okay~!” Let's think about what to do. Cleaning, laundry, cooking, feeding, working, playing with Mako-kun and bugging people. How should I begin? Having so many chores to pick from, I almost cried.

Alright. I extended both arms like wings and bolted outside:

“First, tease Mako-kun!”

Then I'll think about today's stuff.

After harassing Mako-kun like I promised, I hummed my way out of his room but almost slid off the stairs. Both my mental and physical energy had been depleted; my body had reached its maximum. Due to overusing, my back was as if carrying the weight a bicycle front wheel has to endure. Both my leg and waist were in a pinch. This… is a little… I can't. I didn't want to go out today. It is my birthday, so they'll understand. Mm, I'll take the day off.

But I still have to go to the school… Ugh.

I'll just focus on making the rocket in my room. Prototype number 1 is about to be completed.

Since I've decided, I will now take my special leave. I picked up the phone speaker placed next to the entrance. “Beep, beep, beep.” Although the number's already registered, my fingers still keyed in the memorized digits.

I waited for the part-timer cutie who should be working now.

“...Hello? Looking at this number, is it the manager?”

“Yes~ Actually, I feel like there's something happening today, so I can't move.”

“From what I can understand in that sentence, I'm guessing you're just being lazy.”

“Marvelous! So you'll ace the literacy exam, won't you?”

“Mm~ Well, I think it should at least be better than math...”

“About work, just listen to the substitute manager.”

“… The backup being better than the starter is indeed something worth considering.”

“It's just a name; the management right just so happened to have fallen into my laps! Goodbye~!”

Clank, I hung up. Phew~ I was nervous like during middle school whenever I asked for a leave because I wanted to slack off.

Perhaps due to moving constantly, I've acclimated to the sluggishness of my leg. Now my arm's acting up and I can't get it higher than my heart. Yet I tried to hide the sore from the family. Why? Because it felt lame. For humans, appearance is vital! And not just the inside.

Mm~ An easy life without the usage of arms… Oh right! Bingo~ The bulb shone.

I just need to cover myself in futon. Hohoh, learning something from my daughter, I must be gettin— still young! My learning ability is still ripe! Yahoo! That’s it!

After seeing Mako-kun and Erio, who were going somewhere, off, I went back to my room where the futon was still inside. Then, with the laundry rope, I tied the futon and crawled inside. Perfect. It's warm. It's hot. And stuffy. Is this a sauna? I can't even see a thing.

No, I saw darkness. The remnant of light also drifted in my eyes. The perfect night was absent in the futon. I tried rolling. Easily done; hence I rolled ceaselessly, keeping the speed low out of fear of running into the wall. I thought more about things. But In the end, I ended up being an adult who had to shoulder these burdens.

“Forty~ Sigh...”

What did Tamura Obaa-chan think when she turned forty?

What did the fifteen-year old Erio see in this murk?

What I saw, was the small-scale replay of memories— a time machine.

✩

The afternoon on the following day, Nii-san and his wife called. Their target, needless to say, was their son Mako-kun. If the phone does ring, I doubt Erio, who has no social sense, would pick up. But if it went off during daytime on the days when no one is home, would she answer? If she does, and it's someone I know, how would I explain? I pondered about the scenarios.

Except for some relatives, I hid the existence of Erio. Adults, after all, have things to consider.

After exchanging with Mako-kun, I had him pass me the phone. A familiar breathing came into my ear. That stubborn forty-two years old even breathes with rules. How does he not suffocate?

“...Hm? Makoto?”

“Helo-ine! Coca-ine!” Let's do some drugs first, then do more!

“Sorry, wrong number. I'll check the number, date and person and call back later.”

“Ah, don't hang up! You're just like Mako-kun, hmph!”

“Listen… Are you giving my son a hard time?”

“You used to only talk with your girlfriend for forever, I've always wanted to beat the crap out of you...”

“You're just the same old, huh… It was your birthday yesterday, right?”

“You remember?”

“Of course.”

“So where's that birthday present?”

“Did you know? June 6th is Brother's day. Shouldn't you be giving me something instead?” <ref>A certain Mangaka's proposed-holiday. It's the day in the middle of the Gemini's month from May 22 to June 21</ref>

“You jerk, I'm gonna give your wife evidence of you cheating!”

“I'm hanging up.”

“Wait, I have a question for you.”

Timing when Erio left the entrance, I cut to the chase.

“Why do you always take so long to get to your point? What is it?”

“Nii-san, you used to scare women away, but not animals, right?”

“I'm hanging up.” Good, she's gone.

“Tell me the secrets to getting close with animals.”

“How would I know? Go feed them with bones or something.”

“You're so cold! Omigewdness!”<ref>Acchonburike あっちょんぶりけ the catch phrase of Pinoko from Back Jack</ref>

“You're so annoying. You have a pet cat or dog now?”

“I even have a pet wild weasel!”

“That's not even a pet! You just wanted animal therapy to avoid facing dying alone as a city grandma, right?”

“Your adorable son is in my hand right now. If you want him back as a virgin, don't mention my age again.”<ref>I thought about changing this, but nah</ref>

“Then are you building a Meme animal kingdom? Ahh~… Secrets, huh. Secrets? Was there any?”

“Nii-san, stop thinking and actually say something.”

“You are just so infuriating when you make sense. How about having them open up to you?”

“Where do I open on them?”

“I don't know. Now I'm really lost. Anyway, in simple terms.”

“Mm.”

“Use your head.”

“You're really unfit to be a teacher. Didn't you contributed to national by getting booted off the teacher certification exam?”

“Isn't thinking what you're good at?”

“True, but people al~ways think that I'm not thinking.”

“Must be your face.”

“Ah, cuz everyone's so mesmerized?”

“… Thinking is one good thing you have — take care of it.”

“And the one bad thing you have, Nii-san, is looking down on your sister so much! Make sure you get better with that!”

“I'm hanging up.”

“Mm, I'm going to make dinner too. I'm going to fatten your adorable son and make foie gras out of him✩”

“Before you go, let me give you a bit of advice.” He sudden lowered his voice and sped up.

“Wh~at?”

“Burn the evidence.”

He hung up. Beep, beep, the speaker rung, trying to resonate Nii-san's words.

“I was just kidding.” I grinned satisfactorily.

What will the kindling in my hand burn?

But that's another story.

✩

June 8th, one more day passed. 206 days until New Year, and two days after my birthday.

In the morning, while eating a slightly early breakfast, Mako-kun reported that 'Erio said she wants to work.' I mixed the Natto, giving off the appearance that I was still asleep and pretended that I wasn't listening. What I considered wasn't the will that Erio wanted to work with, but how to get her work. As for the carrying out the act itself, I will hand it to Mako-kun for now.

“I'm heading out!” After eating and preparing, I hollered from the entrance. Erio, who had woken up, charged down the stairs to wave at me with a 'have a nice day.' Erio-chan is such a good girl. Complimenting her being like myself yesterday was the right choice~ Eeheehee. Of course I didn't think that — especially the latter part.

Leaving the door, I went into the storage. Faced with my love ride, my calves continued to twitch painfully; but I lightly brushed it off. Saddling onto the bicycle that was new four years ago, I began to pedal slowly.

Ring, ring! I rung on the bell to raise my morale. Ring ring~ Ring ring~ Ring ring~!

“Shut up!” My niece reminded me from the opened window on second floor. “Was that a whip of love?” With that question, he immediately answered with an indifferent 'It's a whip of death!' He sounded just like my brother when he's young.

“I'm heading out~” I looked to the cloudy sky and waved at him. “Yes, yes, please look ahead when you ride.” Mako-kun, too, lightly waved at me. Mm, Mako-kun's 'tsun' is really hard, just like the rice in our house. If he ever becomes 'dere,’ though, he will never let go. How exciting!

With enthusiasm as fuel, I pedaled toward the store I’ve missed for three days. This wasn’t just starting late because I’m on management, but the privilege of being able to come whenever I want. Thus I didn’t sulk, instead rode on with head held high. Like a bird dancing through the air, I almost gracefully flew into the warning sign of a construction site. Now was not the time for silly mistakes!

Penetrating through the workers and students who were on their way to work or school, I took the back alley to the shopping districts. I used to dash through here — and trip. Even though I was the fastest in the group, I was often also the most oblivious. Thanks to the fall, though, I never ran directly into the street and hence the scooters or trucks along the way. I like to think it's a good thing. Actually, the same applies now as well: the bicycle that moved slowly due to my sore leg just avoided running into an orange moped. We will never know what is truly auspicious for them. Every cloud has a silver lining — the same applies for Momo-tarou’s story. The grandma cried about ‘I don’t wanna go do laundry by the river. I don’t even wanna move! Your turn, old man. Might as well be naked, too! What do we got to lose at this age? Build a new house next to the river while you're at it!’ or something like so to emphasize her laziness; when she unwillingly went to the river, she found the peach. After ten years, the son or grandson born of the peach beat the crap out of the local monster, and they found themselves swimming in gold. What I mean is, the domino of destiny is very intriguing.<ref>Story of Momo-tarou, in which a boy born of a peach flowing down a river defeated the demons on an island with a monkey, pheasant, and dog. His grand/parents are an old couple</ref>

Riding down a short slope, I let my limbs free to enjoy the much anticipated autopilot. The wheels spun successfully today, leading me down the hill like on a slide. It was awesome. Usually, it would swirl around.

After taking the time that’s not even excusable for management, but ghost members, I arrived at the store. I parked the bicycles in the corner of the parking lot and went into the back door. I thought about sneaking in, but in the end I walked in with my chest high.

Inside the substitute manager was already preparing to open. Her dexterous movements dazzled, as if encouraging the eyes that followed her to train hard. Substitute manager, Komaki-chan, noticed my presence and bowed lightly. The hair that poured to her shoulder politely drooped with its owner.

“Good morning, manager. It’s been three days.”

“Yup, it’s been three days for me too. It’s weird, but I think we’re on equal ground!”

“I’m always surprised that your brain doesn’t disagree with how biased its usage is.”

Her tone seemed simply impressed. “Was that a compliment?”

“Absolutely.”

“Oh yay~!”

I tried cheering for it. Koma-chan disapprovingly stared at me as if saying ‘amazing.’ But it didn’t last long. She looked back to the work on hand. Because of the serious and dedicated person that she is, this store managed to survive. Or rather, am I still needed?

“Do you want to be the manager?’

Everything is worth a try, so I asked. “No thanks.” Koma-chan denied the promotion without raising a brow.

“The only reason people work hard is because you are the boss.”

You’re good as a negative example. My brother, who failed many of his job applications, complained to me before.

“Thanks to you, boss, the part timer from last month is also very hardworking.”

“Ah, what’s that pretty girl’s name? Uh… I don’t remember at all.”

“What was it?”

The girl’s overwhelming appearance trivialized her other relevant information.

“That aside… So, I’ll keep the title of manager…?”

“Yeah, you have a surprisingly strong presence. That’s not too bad, right? Being the mascot manager.”

“Heheh, then I will keep it. My ex also told me this: using the metaphor of a village with a hundred people for earth and humans, I think you are worth about five people.”

“Those five are definitely not humans.”

Koma-chan grinned wryly and began doing something else. She’s such a diligent sweetheart, yet she only wrote down ‘being sound-minded’ in the specialty part of her resume. “Well, I thought it over, but it’s seriously the only thing I could think of.”

I recall when she said that while scratching her cheek like it was yesterday.

“For someone who skipped work, you look tired. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. But I’m still not going to work.”

That’s right. Koma-chan exaggeratedly nodded:

“So, a boy came here yesterday and asked a strange hypothetical question. Oh, he was a customer.”

“Mm? What was the question?”

“Hypothetically, if half the human were to be eliminated, are you confident that you will stay in the remaining half? He said it was taken straight from the afterword of a novel.”

“Huh. So what did you tell him?’

“’Thank you, please come again.’ Then I handed over what he bought.”

“Was he impressed with how professional we are?”

“Well, he did force a smile.”

I sat down on a chair, elbows on knees, and observed Koma-chan working. Stare~ Stare. “Jiiii~”

“Please don’t pretend to be a cicada indoor.”<ref>The onomatopoeia for staring in Japanese is じいい</ref>

Inspection complete! I am bored. I stood and knocked the chair away with my butt:

“I’m leaving for a bit~”

“Remember to be back before snack time!”

“Ahaha, I will work hard next month! I’m counting on ya~”

Swinging my handbag, I skipped out of the store. I wasn’t even there for ten minutes.

Jumping onto the unlocked bike that seemed to have predicted the outcome of things, I yelled ‘woohoo~!’ and flew onto the streets. The acceleration wasn’t too bad, but my legs were still too flaccid to keep up with the speed. After stabilizing, the wheels finally lost all their initial speed.

The destination, Tamura Shop. Ring ring, clank clank… Sigh~

✩

“Hah… Hah…” Panting heavily since the middle of the trip, I reached Obaa-chan’s house. When I got off, I stood on my toe for a second; like the sports injury drawn in hot-blooded sports manga, my left calve twitched intensively. Ultimately it was solved with a bit of cold sweat. Mm, good thing I didn’t work before coming here.

I looked back to the place that seemed to be the territory of that seemingly stray dog. I’ll find and capture him later.

Insisting on taking on the badly installed door on the right, I finally cracked open a slit that only a slim person like me could fit through after almost shaking the door out of its frame. Though my shoulders were almost stuck, I still forced my way through the opening. As usual, the siren-like doorbell screamed. I raised my head, looking down only after gawking for a bit.

“… Sigh.” Despite waiting, Obaa-chan never came to the front. Maybe she couldn’t. When her legs aren’t doing so good, she can’t get up from her bed; even if she managed to crawl out of the room, she could never make it to the bathroom… No matter how many times I suggested to have a care taker, she rejected the notion.

A hint of disappointment dragged my feet. I took off my shoes and entered the residence. As if the unseasonal snow that fell outside sucked all sounds away, the hallway was deathly silent. The air, too, was frigid, filled with the mien of ruin incompatible with human breathes.

I didn’t knock, directly pulling open the door in the middle of the hall. The pancake laid in the center bulged slightly. Seeing the tiny movement of breathing, I exhaled.

“I was about to go to the store!”

The usual words that sounded like an excuse made me smile. Obaa-chan’s shaky hand appeared on edge of the futon that covered even her head. She seemed to know who the visitor was without looking and said: “Meme, could you put my hand where the glasses are?”

“Yep.” How capricious of her, I smilingly slid next to the pillows. I held her hand and wrist — a thin, wrinkled and untoned wrist.

Despite my eyes deteriorating from age, I could still see clearly how emaciated her arm has become. Despite the bangs that draped and blocked my sight, reality was unabatedly displayed in front of me.

“Your hand.” She slightly squeezed back on my hand.

“Eh?’

“This is a blindfold riddle, right? Too easy.”

She happily guessed on her own, seemingly saying ‘don’t look down on me!’ This granny… Her mouth really doesn’t know the meaning of deterioration.

“Correct.” I praised her first before handing the reading glasses to her. I planned on letting go after putting her hand back into the futon. But Obaa-chan continued feeling my hand. For a second I thought she was writing something, but the trace contained no pattern.

“Obaa-chan?”

“Oh, your skin is still pretty smooth. Looks like you’re doing well.”

You could have just looked at my face!

After a while, Obaa-chan let go and put on her glasses, only peeking out from the futon.

Her lowered face grabbed my attention.

“Why did you come here?”

“To see you, Obaa-chan. Good morning.”

“Hmph, the same thing every time. Since when have you become such a boring kid?”

So from Obaa-chan’s view, I’m still a kid? No, wait! I think I’ve actually been branded the nickname of ‘big kid’ by other relatives! According to rumors anyway.

In other words, I’m still young! Woohoo! That’s right, woo!

“I’m already a grown-up.” But I still have to emphasize.

“Idiot. Grown-ups don’t play around at this time.”

“What about Obaa-chan?”

“Can't you tell I'm working at home?”

“Then I’m also running some errands.”

“You sure can run your mouth.”

Obaa-chan criticized me with the uncongenial attitude of both happy and cynical. She rustled both legs out of the futon, looking just like a turtle with front legs retracted.

“I’m going to do laundry, so I’ll take your clothes for you.”

“Fool, didn’t I tell you to go work instead of taking care of people?

“Or do you want to take a shower?”

“I’ll do that later. For now… Well, talk.”

“Talk…” The chatty Obaa-chan actually handed the job of talking to me.

“My tongue isn’t working too well today.”

Obaa-chan said so with a poker face. I hope it was just a joke.

“…Oh, the town’s animals seem to be disappearing recently.”

I shamelessly brought the topic up. “Wha?” Obaa-chan first scowled, and then understandingly looked away:

“I knew that from a week ago.”

“And it’s still happening! I heard that the stray cats and dogs all disappeared from the town.”

“Hmph. Cattle mutilation, huh.”

Obaa-chan mumbled amusingly. Those were muffled words difficult to understand.

“Oh, there wasn’t any body though!”

“The type that leave the bodies behind is already proven. Mysterious disappearance is always cattle mutilation, has to be.”

She hid both legs back into the futon. Obaa-chan’s smiling face, like that of a young prankster, was the collective of wrinkles. Not a solid sign of energy on there: like a kite, she was held together only by skin and bones. A kite floating in the daily breeze; if the wind were to pick up — and it doesn’t even need to be a gale — it will be torn into pieces, and crash.

“Are you excited?” My eyes hovered in the room as I spoke.

“For what?’

“Cattle Mutilation. The aliens might just be somewhere in this town.”

Obaa-chan laughed, like reacting to a kid saying 'I won't sleep till Santa is here!'

“Even if they are, you can’t see them!”

“Can you really declare something you’ve never seen as invisible?” Even though the phrasing is contradictory.

“They must be here right now. I bet you can’t see them.”

“If I were to rampage through this room, could I wipe them out?” I said so while rolling my sleeve up.

I was actually kind of serious. Perhaps noticing that, Obaa-chan casually pretended to have not hear me:

“It'll be my turn soon.”

“You’ve been saying that since twenty years ago. Is it still true?”

“Hmph… People who have expectation in fools must also be idiots themselves.”

“Uweh?”

“Stop making those disgusting sound. You really haven’t changed; both your face and personality are still off the hinge.”

“Oh yeah. Nii-san always said that I can emit Y*metaran radiation.”<ref>Referring to Yametaran from the Ultraman TV series. Yametaran can emit a radiation that sedate people and make them lazy</ref>

It’s about time for a new topic. I messed my bangs up, sorting out the uncertainly in my voice with a ‘ahh~’

“Obaa-chan.”

“Mm.”

“What did you think of when you turned forty?”

“Forty… Right, your birthday was last week?”

“Eh? Yes.” Before protesting to her about reminding me of my age, I was shocked with how she remembered.

And she even remembered my age.

Obaa-chan’s feet once again crept out of the futon. This time she tiptoed with her tiny feet, advancing slightly. The toes that pressed into the tatami allowed Obaa-chan to move another two centimeters. She planned to leave the room — took me two seconds to realize this.

“Obaa-chan, are you going to the restroom?” I stuck my hand beneath to support her.

“Stu~pid. I was going to give you a present. A snack of your choice on the house.”

“Haha, this brings me back!” Just like old time. Before I turned twelve, was I able to hop joyfully every year?

What’s different now is, I can no longer freely follow Obaa-chan's back.

I put Obaa-chan on my back. I intended to help her anyway.

“I can usually walk; today just happened to be a bad day.” Obaa-chan explained bitterly above my head.

“Yep, I know.” Her voice was raspy. The lips, unstable, felt just like her skins.

“Ah, it’s, uh, muscle sore. I tried to lift a box of cola yesterday, so my waist is sore.”

“What a coincidence! I left work early today because my legs are sore!”

“…You will never be someone who can walk on your own two feet.”

Obaa-chan was reprehensive; my heart only ached.

Even with pained muscle, I did not feel burdened carrying her — Obaa-chan has become so light.

The damp skin festered with pus.

I stopped. Eyes closed. With my tongue as guidance, I deeply, deeply breathed.

I refuse. Someone other than me wanted to use my mouth to say something.

“What? Are you tired? …A certain old man should have told you: where you lack strength and brain, make up with will! Well, not that your will is worth any expectation.”

“Obaa-chan.”

“Don’t tell me to get off, ahahah!” She lost her voice halfway through the laughter.

“I will defeat them.”

“What, your slacking tendencies?”

“No, those are my pets.” Nyahaha~ I glossed over with a laugh and opened my eyes.

Go forward. Then, I thought of something:

“Um… Obaa-chan?”

“Mm?”

“I want to send you a great worker…”

How about letting Erio work here? I think this time, it has to be the best idea.

✩

Weekend, ‘June Twelfth’ was completed. The rocket was simply and whimsically named after its day of completion. Just as bad as naming the kid Erio after her father Elliot. ‘That’s fine’ I’m currently looking for a man who could say the same. Actually, I don’t think I am.

“Yay~ It’s done~ Zoom~”

I lifted the newly-born rocket high with both hands and ran around the room. Ahh, being able to relive my youth… Ugh, the storm of complaints for me are as cruel as usual.

No. This is the gap that will excite everybody. Uh, I hope. Pshuu~ ...Mm, since this is a rocket, it should be silent after it reaches space. Though it is a little unromantic, flying with no sound.

“Test flight complete.” Next time, I'll use hydro power to test it.

Mako-kun and Erio both stepped out for their ill-prepared job hunt, so the house was devoid of noises and eyes. Since there's no need to be surreptitious, I just walked out with the rocket.

A clear day with patches of clouds; it might rain tonight though. In order to finish before they come back, I strapped the rocket tightly on the bicycle's back rack. As for work, I am of course running ‘errands’ outside again. I even forgot to put make up on, heheh!

I kicked off on the bicycle, in hope that it would finally rid my calves of sore that's finally let up. My destination: the abandoned farm school. I have to take care of the animals and test the rocket.

Ring, ring, clank, clank… Getting there is one thing, but why do I always ring the bell when I ride? Is this one of those 'everyone's seven habits?'<ref>The Japanese idiom無くて七癖, literally mean ' has to have seven habits,' which means 'everyone has his particular habits'</ref>

Parking the bicycle inside the school where the field with greenhouses is, I detached the rocket after locking up. “Yahoo~!” I charged forward, rocket in hand, like a surfer toward the beach.

First, break into the school from the door with broken lock. I left the rocket near the hallway's entrance to standby. Stepping barefoot on the lino floor, I felt a moisture that smoothed my feet.

Climbed up to the second floor in cold air like the one in Obaa-chan's house, I arrived at the office and opened its door. They really didn't care about this place, never locking up and all.

Even till now, I still disliked the musty air within. I picked up the animal feed on the table and left the way I came. Then I began the caring of animals that are each living luxuriously in their own room.

Each of them were full of spirit, baring their cute teeth at me unwelcomingly. “Open your mind~!” Gulped down with my brother's advice, I tried talking to them — to no avail. The advices simply lodged in my throat. I wasted more time and energy than needed feeding and cleaning the animals; finally, I moved onto the third floor. Up there was the new dog brought from around Obaa-chan's house. Perhaps he thought the classroom's smell was interesting, the dog sniffed everywhere.

On the way up the stairs, I almost heard Nii-san's laughter: “So this is what you 'thought of?” No, Nii-san, I am still thinking. This is only the process! I answered full of zeal.

Heyo~ I greeted the weasel and the dog, got nibbled by them, and then fed them.

Due to the food's cost exceeding the prediction, the war of attrition had been difficult. It's about time. With the thought in mind, I brought the rocket here today. The aliens are not in space — they hid in places closer to us.

I put the rest of the feed back in the reference room after taking care of all the animals; on the first floor, I scooped up the bottle rocket laying on the green hallway.

I put on my shoes and dashed to the track field. It may be our first time meeting, but I think it's safe to assume that he won’t bite me. I mean, he didn't look like a guy who will try and harm me!

Passing through the walkway between buildings, I moved toward the field where a factory-looking research building was visible. To the left was a dried swimming pool. When this school was still running, we would make up plans to sneak into the pool during night, and, like preparing for a field trip, we'd get super excited.

But in the end, we never did.

“Excuse me~”

In the middle of the field, the man again prepared for rocket launching today. I gregariously greeted him. Wearing a saggy suit that's never had a chance with an iron, he looked about my age… Whoa! This dude looks super young! A college senior? Looking for a first job?! If that were true, then I am, naturally, also a beautiful twenty-two years old college student… Shucks.

The man looked to be about thirty something, at least. On his right ear was a curious accessory; the 'failing-to-look-younger' fashion accessory drew my eyes, but ‘trendy’ is probably the least possible of what people would think of it.

“Whoa!” The rocketeer jumped, stopping his task of pumping the tire inflator. Though with no joy of 'a fellow rocketeer hath come!' he didn't actually appear fearful of a suspicious person — his reaction was comparable to a boy who was approached by a cute girl whom he didn't think he had a chance with.

“Nice meeting you! This is my—“ Ah, I wanted to use the business card. But it's something from thirty nine years old! It might end up as age forgery if I gave it to him. Not 'might,' but 'definitely.' Frustration grew.

“D-did you say 'nice meeting you'?” The rocketeer licked his lips while leaning forward peevishly.

“Yes?”

“No, I mean, you're joking, right?” His eyes blinked left and right.

“About what?”

“You're Meme, I mean— Touwa, right?”

Oops, he's got both first and last name right. An old friend?

“I lived here till middle school, so… Do you remember?”

The man fretfully gestured in a panic, begging recognition from my past. Why does he look like he's about to burst into tears? Does he want me to use a metaphoric bee on him?<ref>Japanese idiom 泣きっつらに蜂. Literally translating to 'run into a bee while crying.' It's similar in meaning to a double whammy</ref>

“Mm...” I placed a finger on my temple, eyes shut as if praying. Now playing memory. '”When was the last we met?”

“At least twenty years ago.”

“Mm, mm.” I reset the time and reminisced.

...Ah, could he be?

“Yamamoto-kun?”

“Wha—! Even with 'kun' added you didn't get a single syllable right!”

“But I probably remember now.”

“Not even my name was included in 'probably…' What exactly did you recall...?” Yamamoto-kun (subject to change) hung his head.

“No, I'm not kidding! I almost remember.”

“Ah, then do you still remember Seiji (星耳)?”

Looking up now, he asked in confirmation.

“Yeah, she's my friend.”

“I thought we were friends too…”

As for Seiji, she's a girl same age as I. She was a friend who moved elsewhere after revealing her pregnancy at highschool.

In the people I knew, she was the smartest who always played the famous detective in detective games.

“I heard she passed away, a long time ago too. Did you know?”

“No, I didn't. I see… She's gone, huh.” I felt surprised, but the acceptance came rather easily, not unlike mismatched wheels spinning.

I thought I shouldn’t have went to her funeral, but sighed in relief at the realization that I didn't have to see her in the coffin.

Whatever the case is, the gods are all morons!

“Since you know Seiji, we must be friends.”

“That's good enough for me. So, put all of your 'almost' together.”

“You are a friend who moved out of town twenty years ago.”

“That’s exactly what I just told you...”

He looked down dejectedly. I hope he doesn't guilt trip me so much next time.

“Did I just not stand out?”

Laughing weakly, he stared with anticipation. Should I just go along and laugh with him? It might end up being the fuse to make this Yamamoto-kun collapse in tears.

“Since when were you back here?”

I put up a nostalgic attitude and questioned. Considerate Meme, activate.

“Just last month. I quit my job and came home.”

Yamamot-kun grinned, tricked into a seemingly normal conversation. As if under the control of habit, he pressed on the inflator, once again pumping air into the bottles.

“Oh, by the way, I'm single.” Okay, so what?

Abruptly, a 'moo' echoed in the field. I turned to search for the origin, but no movements in sight matched the sound.

“An animal?” Still, It’s a little too loud to be them.

“Yeah, can you see the barn there? There’s a cow living there still.”

Yamamoto-kun pointed toward the campus at a direction that's different than where I usually come in. I had no idea. I have, however, seen the runways for horses there.

“Sometimes I feed it when I'm shooting rockets here. I’m actually starting to like it!”

“Yeah, it’s super healing!” Like, the biting and scratching.

“I think it’s the best when you can’t understand each other. Humans interaction is boring because it’s too easy to understand.”

He surmised like he's reached some peak of human relations, nodding contently:

“So what are you doing here? Don't you work?”

“I had little this and that. By the way, I want you to help me with this rocket.”

I came looking for the rocket-shooting weirdo; only, surprisingly, the other person (seemed to) knew me.

“Oh, sure. I'll give ya a hand.”

Yamamoto-kun stuck both hands out to catch it.

“So, why shoot rockets here?”

“Uh, eh… Oh, it's kinda like a hobby! Since I don't work anymore, I have a bit of time… So, uh...Hm.”

He put his own rocket on the side and took mine suspiciously:

“I love space, so I shoot these rockets. Yeah, that's it.”

“Oh~” As dubious as the motive seemed, I'm not particularly interested anyway, so I let him off.

“Oh yeah. I've never see her, but I heard your daughter is, uh, interested in space?”

“Eh? Yes, she is.”

So he even knew about my kid? With what he said about Seiji, he's pretty well-informed for someone who just came back last month.

“What a coincidence, me too.”

“You just told me that.” Does this Yamamoto think I'm senile?

“Just as I thought, there's a lot of people who like space here, huh.”

I don't. Not since the funeral twenty-eight years ago.

“So why are you shooting rockets too, Touwa? Are you interested in m— Uh, I mean, are you interested in it…?”

“It’s to defeat them.” Overlooking the field, I so declared.

Yamamoto-kun gawked at my forehead. He then patted his waist twice:

“Defeat… who?”

“The aliens.”

“...With a bottle rocket?” He looked down at the rocket he held.

“At least it'd do better than get rid of cats, right?”<ref>A popular belief is that plastic bottles filled with water confuse or scare cats</ref>

“These can't even hit airplanes though. Do these aliens ride around on birds?”

Yamamoto-kun smiled wryly with head cocked, but still agreed to help with the launching. His movement was concise, very practiced. He has always been nimble… Has he? Mm, I don't know.

He picked up the hose dragged from the water fountain and injected water into the bottle; he then suddenly pumped air energetically. So there's still running water here even though it's abandoned.

Yamamoto-kun finally finished preparation and kneeled down in front of the launch platform.

“You are… just far enough from the rocket, good.”

“Yep.”

“Then… Look closely, here we go.”

“Yep.”

“Three, two, one…!”

Zero. As I finished counting down inside, the rocket soared.

The shaken-carbonated drink burst, boiling and recoiling.

With the stream pushing, the bottle brought with it dust from the ground and drove toward the sky.

Its path wasn’t straight, wriggling left and right. Perhaps, that was why it never reached its apex.

Compared to Yamamoto-kun’s rockets, which I often peered at, the altitude wasn’t nearly enough.

However…

“It’s way faster than my Salamander (name I just gave for my bike)!”

Being able to see something going up at such a close audience, I was slightly taken aback.

“Ain’t it cool?”

Possibly because of sharing the same excitement with someone else, Yamamoto-kun grinned excessively. Mm, his smile is not quite composed enough though. I think a more collected face is manlier.

“But that rocket wasn’t very stable: the wing sizes were probably too different.”

While feeling joyous, Yamamoto-kun calmly observed me — he probably got used to watching me.

“Hoh, so I need to study a little more!” For the sake of assassinating the aliens.

I retrieved the rocket that, despite being blown around by the wind, finally landed in the campus. Yamamoto-kun, too, followed for some reason, his hands scratching the back of his head:

“Yeah, but someone actually makes better rockets than I do. In this town, I meant.”

“Oh~”

“So, uh… Where’s Elliot?”

“Elliot? He’s not here anymore. I don’t know where he is.” With his family, he moved again.

That reminds me, I’ve never met Elliot’s family. They had never come during parents visit days, and whenever I went to his house, he had always told me they were working or out shopping.

“I’ll make more rockets, so please shoot them for me!”

“Uh, sure, but…”

“Also, I have a favour I need to ask of you.” Good timing. It kind of felt like the guidance of fate.

“Oh, what is it? I can pretty much do anything for you! Yeah, whatever you want, just leave it to me.”

So just why did he fluster? It seemed like he was trying to convey how reliable he is with every word in that phrase. Question marks popped up in my head.

“Psst, psst…” After I requested the dubious Yamamoto-kun, ‘what?’ I met his upset face. “No?” I tried to push him further with a pathetic look.

“Well, uh… Fine! I get it. And it has to soon?”

“Yay~ Thanks! …Then, goodbye!”

“Yeah…”

We both waved vaguely at each other— “Touwa— I mean, Meme-cha—san!”

“Yes?” He hollered strangely as if calling me out for a duel. I turned.

“Uh, so… What I wanna say is… Would you… I mean, before… Or rather… Right, I have to be direct.”

He squirmed around like a girl, his toe drawing circles. Huh, that’s creepy. He’s like a bear pretending to a rabbit.

“…What is it, Yamamoto-kun?”

“I’m not Yamamoto!”

“Eh~ So what is your nam—“

“Marry me!”

“
W
H
A
T
?
“

My conscious was cut into eight separate lines. My, Meme didn’t understand a lick of it.

…Can’t I use ‘don’t understand’ to deal with this situation?

Without help of the setting sun, Yamamoto-kun lit up furiously. As for m-me...? How would I know!?

Disregard the cow mooing in the background.

Air circled my throat: I had nothing to say.

June 12th, eleven thirty, AM.

A man whose name I didn’t even know proposed to me.

✩

Except for before and after Ojii-chan’s funeral, I never went to the store with my brother anymore.

Nii-san made more school friends after he turned fourteen, and he couldn’t always come to the store. I’ve always thought that this was the line between being an elementary and middle school student. At the time I was in sixth grade, and I already had the hazy feeling that it was going to the last year I could keep going to the store. Elliot, too, was thinking the same thing, huh.

Elliot was a foreigner of my age. There was a huge house around where my family’s apartment was; he was the boy who lived there, and also almost every girl’s crush.

Elliot was a handsome boy; when he had just moved here, no one suspected him of a plastic surjer— surgery. He moved here with his family when he was six: he explained so when we just met. At the time, I thought he was the aliens that Tamura Obaa-chan and Ojii-chan were talking about.

His mysteriously colourless hair capable of reflecting all sorts of hue at different angles shot particles out lavishly — it was as if shining snow hid within. He had lucidly clear (although if it really was transparent, it'd be like a walking human anatomy model), pale skin, as well as defined and elegant features unlike the local's.

It's almost strange that he wasn't displayed in front of a train station like a statue.

Meme-chan, meaning me, fell in love with him on the first sight. I could rightfully say that he was my first love. Luckily, I became his first friend. Though we didn't get any further until a decade later. Interestingly and surprisingly, Elliot's first love didn't come to fruition.

I think the only person, in the past or the future, who could dump Elliot would be Seiji. According to her, Seiji said 'she disliked the part of Elliot that's like an alien' — hearing the comment, Elliot could only give a bitter smile of kindness.

Right after hearing that, I almost transformed into a monster, screaming every night: “Gwaahh! What a waste!” But twenty years since then, even I wonder about what sort of problem he had, considering that we aren't living together now. Well, I think I just couldn't see his flaw when we were young.

The twelve years old me and Elliot walked together to the grocery store. Just walking next to him was enough to make me lose calm. I had hoped that, maybe, if I absorb some of his bangs-particles, I'd become prettier. Heheh, not that I needed it! (Twenty-one year old me, debut!)

A month after Ojii-chan passed away, Obaa-chan restlessly ran her shop. A lot of older customers filled the store the week following Ojii-chan's funeral, but now was just the usual.

Seiji sat outside on the bench flipping through a novel. A bottle of ice water sat next to her, condensation covering it. Elliot happily talked to her while I quietly stared at the scene. As for the current me who's ruminating at the moment, it should just be deep contemplation.

I wonder— would Seiji still be alive, had she accepted Elliot's confession at the time and stayed here? But if that happened, Erio would never have been born, and that'd be problematic— my family, after all, is my main supplier of happiness points.

Entering the store, the siren-like device above the door would scream. I liked the feeling of secret base it created, so I always looked to it. “Welcome.” Obaa-chan coldly greeted. “Hello.” Erio and I responded together. I noticed, starting from that time, that Obaa-chan already didn't look well. Yet, I never brought it up with anyone else.

Elliot headed first to the drinks, while I the snack shelf. Since I promised dad that I'd only buy one snack a day, I deliberated. Spinning around the shelves, I nudged other people away. Eventually I casually made it to Elliot's side to eave drop on him, and, with some hope, join the conversation. Whenever I had the chance, I would always sneeeeak up next to Elliot.

He and a few other boys stood in front of the glass door of the fridge, pulling on each other while chatting.

“We make fireworks around here. Oh~ Well, meaning we sell fireworks! You've seen my dad's fireworks at last year's festival, right Elliot?”

“Yeah, I did.” Elliot nodded softly. And then, another boy followed:

“My parents sell flowers, especially for funeral stuff. Like when someone's grandpa died, I send flowers to them… Uh, that sounded bad.” Yep, it sure did!

Elliot replied with a confused smile. On the other hand, I noticed how both topics talked about flowers.<ref>Firework 花火 literally translates to flower-fire</ref>

It's then Elliot's turn to say what his family does, but he grinned, calling it a secret. “I don't really know either~” Once again he delivered smoothly, but it seemed like an excuse. Every time the topic of family is mentioned, Elliot would always gloss over like that. At times like such, even his distinctive presence would dissipate.

But forget about that; with Elliot as the center, the boys prattled. I could never butt in.

Ugh, it's one thing that boys are getting along, but I remember being rather infuriated. Though vexed, I still went back to pick my snack. Vent with sweets! I actually had no clue what that meant at the time, but eating delicious snack would always calm me down.

When I couldn't decide, I would usually pick smaller snacks. I don't remember the name, but I'd pick the pea-sized square candies. They were green or pink, and the texture was like mochi or gum while tasting sweet. I loved eating the little squares with the toothpick that came inside.<ref>Kozakura mochi. Little square wagashi packaged like tablets</ref>

With the plastic package in hand, I ran next to Obaa-chan. “I want this~” I handed it to her. “Alright, alright.” Obaa-chan then tapped on the register.

“Mm? What happened to your hand?”

Obaa-chan tilted her head questioningly after seeing my right hand. “Mm~?” I followed her to my finger tip. “Ah~” I remembered: “It was a cat. The grey one Nii-san brought home. It scratched me when I tried to touch it~”

“Hoh~ Again? Animals just hate you, don't they?”

“I know~ It's kinda funny.”

“I noticed that you always buy the same thing. Have you grown to be an idiot who likes to remember only one thing?”

“Eh~ I'm not an idiot. I got a hundred on a quiz last time.”

I paid before taking off my shoes and climbing next to Obaa-chan. She didn't say anything, only silently letting me sit there. Her wrinkled hands roughly rubbed my head:

“No, you are. All you need is to look at your parents' faces.”

“You're just being mean~” I opened the package casually sealed by a rubber band.

“Smart kids will never come here.”

As if deprecating herself, Obaa-chan spoke with a twisted smile:

“Kids come here because they're stupid— once they grew smart, they stopped coming. As for fools like Ojii-chan who never grew up, they inherit this kind of store. It's my parents' stores, so he could have just left it to close.”

“Aww!” I sensed that it sounded just like Nii-san; my spirit dampened: “I'll keep coming here! Even when I grow up, I'll still al~ways come.”

“Stupid. You have to work properly when you grow up… Well, it's my turn soon.”

“Turn? Do you want one too?” I skewered a piece and passed it to Obaa-chan's mouth.

'Don't want it' Obaa-chan brushed me off, and as if giving up, she mumbled:

“Cattle mutilation.”

A tiny explosion expanded in my eyes. I recalled— they were the words Obaa-chan mouthed after Ojii-chan's funeral. She had yet to cease her self-mocking tone:

“Your Ojii-chan and I are the same age. Following that order, shouldn't it be my turn soon?”

“Ehh~ But you can't!”

I pushed against Obaa-chan's hand, waving my hands raucously; the snacks fell everywhere.

“What do you want me to do…? Gods use alien technologies to hide themselves, so we can't see them; hence there is nothing I can do.”

Obaa-chan's words softened; rather than from kindness, it was more dejection.

Contrastingly, my emotion hopped from all sorts of places. I looked up, seeing the mustard-coloured face that lacked the circulation of health.

“Uwah, wuu~ I-I will take care of that cat-whatchamacallit!”

“Hoh~ How?”

Obaa-chan smiled maliciously as if asking a landmine-question.

My tiny brain couldn't think of anything, so I could only moan 'wu~wu~' and conclude. “I donno!” Due to brain cells being squashed, I gave up on thinking.

“See~ You are stupid.”

“But, I don't wanna Obaa-chan to be gone~ I~ don't~ wanna~!”

“Well thank you! Just stop kicking the floor, you're going to break it!”

Obaa-chan thanked hastily and patted my head. It wasn't my problem, but I almost cried. The imagination filled me with more loss than Ojii-chan's funeral.

“Mm, if you really want to do something, then think well. Think so well that even the toilet seats would move first. Even an idiot could come up with something after contemplating. Grandpa was also an idiot, but he'd always come up with some weird idea after two days of thinking.”

“...Wuu~”

“Why not just defeat them?”

The usually tranquil and calm voice interjected. It was Elliot.

Putting a bottled drink worth of coin on the register, he smiled at Obaa-chan and me.

Faced with the same smile, Obaa-chan hmphed, while my heart raced.

As though to confirm, Elliot said it again.

'Why not just defeat them?'

Maintaining that warm expression, he stated the simplest solution.

Then Elliot put the cola bottle next to his lips and chugged down.

Thinking about these things, I passed out in the bath.

A praposal, I mean, proposal. I escaped home and hid in the bathroom's tub. Why? I don't know why I hid in the tub. I was shaken, and before I realized it, I'm already viva non-non-ing in the hot water.<ref>A reference to the song いい湯だな, nice hot water, of Japanese band 'The Drifters.' Viva non-non is chanted between verses</ref>

I left the bathroom, boiled. Boiled~ spoiled~ spoiled. I lied down wearing nothing and crawled on the floor, enjoying the chilling sensation. It felt great on my burning skin, but the coolness left immediately, so I dragged slithered. Gecko crawl~ go back the way I came after reaching the entrance. The distance drew on and on~ Returning to the changing room, I stayed on the floor and put on my underwear and pajama.

“Gotta get up, gotta get up… Whoa~” Blinded by the eye patch that was my own hair, I finally stood up with my left eye covered. My soles singed the floor; my skin bloated by the water, feet shambling as if five or six bees were kept within. With my head rubbing against the wall, I dove into the living room. Wham~ While sliding inside, the tip of my nose burnt from the friction. Uh, my nose would be even flatter.

Out of such fear, I lifted only my head up with chin on the floor, mimicking Obaa-chan to propel myself forward with only my toes. Squiggle~ Having a longer-than-predicted reach is good, but my boobs hurt more than I had thought. Ow… Obaa-chan is flat as a— wait, what am I thinking?

Ultimately I crawled on my knees, grabbed the remote sitting on the table and collapsed on the floor again. Arm forward, press the button. 'Beep!' On a certain replayed film, a certain someone is about to marry a certain someone. Turn it off. Back on again, and change the channel. The show was about making a low-calorie fried pork-steak. I gawked at the golden hue of the meat; the worm in my stomach growled like a new species of animals.

“Ughh, I don't wanna cook.” As an emergency measure, I switched the channel. On the screen now was a teaching program; I joined the speech practice midway. “A~ B ~ C~ D~” Which reminds me: Elliot didn't speak anything besides Japanese, but his accent was still weird. No one knew where he came from.

“...Ugh~”

I dragged myself to open the cabinet. A moist wave of dust rose; the tapes were still stacked there. We don't have a machine for DVD in this house, so the tape will have to do the spinning.

Shoving the tape into the player, I picked up the VHS remote on top of the TV. “It's been a while!” I almost didn't even remember how to use it. After a few random clicks, the tape played successfully. I jellied again; affected by the still-present heat, my guts refused to settle. Even lying on the floor was a kind of hell.

The movie that we've only seen as children at the movie theater began playing on screen. I, Elliot, Seiji, and few others biked to see the movie. My brother was going to join us, but he got sick and stayed in our apartment. And when the film was broadcasted on TV, the entire family watched it together. I'll save this topic for another time.

Left eye glued to the floor's weavings, I watched the screen change with only my right. Yet whatever entered my brain was picture and darkness — my left eye saw nothing it was supposed to.

Please forgive me! I was kidding when I said I'm super popular! And now it’s actually happening. Uhh… Hnng… So, is this what Yamamoto-kun said?

“Marry me!”

I regurgitated the sickening consonants. I almost went mad from the embarrassment:

“...Are you kidding me?”

Thinking back, this was my first time proposed to. Of course I'm freaking out! How could I not be!

“Even if it's by some guy I don't know… Well, I probably knew him?” Not that I remember a thing.

How nerve wrecking! Should I just reject him? But more fundamentally, do I plan on getting married now? With whom? Yamamoto-kun? Elliot? No, not Elliot; I don't even know where he is. More importantly, I don't think it'd work out. Elliot is an abnormally exquisite art: he has a proper location, a fitting place to exist and a position right for him. In whatever case, that place is not here. Still, for me to just welcome Yamamoto-kun with open arms is just as impossible.

After all, I've only wanted to live with no one else but Erio. I don't have the confidence to let someone else in. As for Mako-kun, he's just like my kid. To treat an outsider like family — I am abnormally hesitant toward it. Wu~ My stomach is starting to hurt from the circular thinking.

Um… I was wondering about whether my happiness points are going up or down, right?

But I still have to think. Because, it is how I walked here all the way.

“...Sigh.”

What should I have done instead when Erio escaped into the futon?

Perhaps I should have told her: 'think.' Not just once, but as many times as I could.

If I had taught her well, she might still be in school now.

I've always lived in regret: even when I achieved something, I could never feel perfectly happy.

“...Meow~” I tried doing a duet with the cat on screen.

I can only hope to resolve the situation now without any remorse.

After a while, Mako-kun and Erio returned as my brain reached boiling point.

'Go find Obaa-chan!' I licked his knees after instructing so, finally regaining my spirit.

It's strange, but Mako-kun always motivates me!

...If I were to say that, I wonder if he'll let bygones be bygones?

The following week consisted of repeating days with the standard of June this year.

One day, I snuck into Tamura Shop to see how Erio's doing at work. Even though no one came on the first day, she's still freaking out. The moment I walked in, she bolted out frantically and tripped. Her nose started bleeding, so I wiped the blood away and stuffed her nose with a tissue paper.

What a worrisome child! That is, however, what made her so adorable.

After that happened, Erio prohibited me from coming into the store. 'Absolutely… no!'

'I'm… going back to… society!' She violently shook her head while saying 'don't come in… Don't come in… You can't!' Forming a barrier with her arms.

I thought about breaking this blockade by hugging it tightly, but this was no game for Erio. Hence, I decided to hold myself back — can't always try to interlope.

Even though the promise made it hard for me to see Obaa-chan, perhaps it is better this way before the preparation on this side is finished.

But knowing that Mako-kun could enter freely, I just had to bully them that night ☆

And, despite this being an information I happened upon on the following day, I heard that that Yamamoto-kun was purchasing a large amount of coke and visiting the store at a rather frequent rate. Knowing that before running into him was definitely helpful. So that, along with the hope for Erio, I decided to watch the store when nobody noticed. And I could also prepare for Yamamoto-kun meanwhile — two birds with one stone!

Then came the night when I shut myself in a room to make bottle rockets. Following Yamamoto-kun's advice, I adjusted the tail fins. To make the four wings equal in size, I had to trim carefully. Staplers, scissors; box cutter, double-sided tapes: the tools scattered on my desk were all purchased from Obaa-chan's store long ago. Do I cherish my things? Or maybe I just never used them?

Back when Erio was still in grade school, we made many rockets together; so without referring back to an instruction, my fingers did most of the steps. We also had some unused nozzles and PE rocket heads put away in the storage, so I didn't have to spend money. My Eri-chan has always been interested in flying objects since she wore diapers — she's quite full of wings and dreams! Uh, to a point where her brain was floating around for a while. Please do excuse her for that!

The most annoying part of making rockets had to be finding bottles. Even if you need only five bottles, our little Mako-kun doesn't like carbonated drinks: he wouldn't do his mission like a good little fairy if I were to leave those in the fridge.

How did Yamamoto-kun get his bottles? I didn't want to come across as a jerk, either, by having him test fire; so I've never progressed beyond making the rockets.

For the remaining time, I would occasionally show up to work at my own store. Yep, perfect. Just like summer vacation's daily schedule, it's never to be followed. I recall back in elementary, a classmate wrote 'stayin' alive' for all twenty four hours on his daily schedule. After turning that in, he got a detention and was scolded by the teacher. We didn't know till later that the kid was actually terminally ill and didn't have many days left; the teacher showed up at his door smeared with tears. The kid died… I think on the June the year after that. Everyone in class showed up for his funeral, so I remember. Ah, June again? Indeed the month of separation.

And so I stood near the Tamura Store on the Saturday of the following week as the sentimental Meme-san. For some reason, there were a lot of customers gathering today. I noticed two dubious shadows. A girl about Erio's age, and a middle-aged man living out his youth.

Including me, the three people hid in the shades to watch the Tamura Shop. Why did so many UFO show up in our peaceful town? Did someone with a human repellant drive these people out?

Just as the 19th of June sent an invitation to the rain, I blew air at the young girl's neck. It's more appropriate than with Yamamoto-kun, right? Under my goose bump-inducing breath, her entire person jumped with an amazing reaction. 'Keewah! She seemed completely oblivious of my presence.

The girl's boots gave, almost sending her butt-first into the puddle; I reached forward and helped her up. Her wrist pulsated quickly, and her eyebrows too blinked intensely.

I poked her soft cheeks — it was a very cute girl. I recognize her from somewhere. Was she Erio's friend? She didn't seem to know me though.

After introducing myself, I casually handed the cola I'd been sipping on to the girl. It would be a waste not to. Heheh, a successful transfer. I was about done with the taste of cola anyway. I don't like carbonated drink that much, because Meme was raised properly: I drank only barely tea when we lived in the apartment.

Without further ado, I asked the girl to tell me where Yamamoto-kun was while prattling. I told her that he was actually my fan, but perhaps he now wanted to observe Erio. Yamamoto-kun knew I have a daughter, so could he plan on getting on her good side? Is this slyness, or shamelessness? What on earth did he learn after leaving town?

After contemplating about the enigma of Smooth-skinned sensei, she yelped, 'ah!' with her pupil contracting. The girl looked toward the store as if she'd discovered something. To avoid Yamamoto-kun I hid myself more completely than she did, so I could not see the situation behind the concrete wall.

“Then, I must get going!” The girl bolted off after few stretches. “Bye~” I saw her off; Yamamoto-kun's silhouette replaced her.

“Uwah...” The orchestra of rain dripping off the yellow umbrella played out above my head.

Should I try talking to him to get friendly? No~no. Just thinking about that is going to make me collapse. On the embarrassment number scale, it's about 80. Usually I have about 3. Now, imagine using a decagon screwdriver on a tri-point screw. What I mean is, the number will break the roof.

And just standing around to talk is weird. Problem is, if I was invited to a cup of tea, I will be totally suspicious. Definitely. For the pure Meme-chan, she has no immunity to that kind of open relationship. I haven't even been vaccinated… Eh? The script? I'm supposed to say 'JK' here? Oh, just leave me alone, Manus Dei~.<ref>Original text was 'the hand of god.' Manus Dei means the same thing in Latin</ref>

“Wuu… Mmm~” Out of confusion, I started dancing. The rain poured and poured~

I've slightly regained composure. Thinking is vital, but there's only action after this point.

Yamamoto-kun looked around under his umbrella, appearing to be searching for something far away. Probably me. If it were Erio, he would have already entered the store.

I looked away from him. I'll give up on today's monitoring.

On the way home I found a cat. After abducting it into the school, I decided to go home.

A corner of my heart hoped to never see Yamamoto-kun again in town.

Rather than tea buddies, we were more like rocket comrades.

And we will duel on the field! Yes!

“...Hnm?”

Something seemed off, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

“Is it age?” I mumbled, as if tracing the parts I don't want to admit with the tip of the words.

I saw something in the grey sky — the scene of important things entering the morgue.

☆

On the day twenty-eight years ago that led to everything today.

Like divulging the secret of a magic, Elliot smilingly spoke.

To defeat what you can't see is actually very easy!

It was a smile that would look snide on others, but artistic only on Elliot.

“Defeat? How?”

I pulled my head away from Obaa-chan's palm and leaned forward. Though my hand crushed the green snack I dropped, the light pain was brushed aside when I questioned Elliot.

Obaa-chan looked at me in boredom, silent.

Elliot sipped the cola and asserted calmly.

The only way to touch which you can’t, is through faith.

'Face?' I shut myself up before saying a thing.

Ritual and prayers are needed to show faith.

Elliot claimed so maturely — the only time he seemed older than Nii-san.

“Ritual?”

Hearing the word only made me think of people in purple robes with only their eyes flashing red, hiding in dim room filled with incense, singing and dancing.

And prayer reminded me of the poor girl in W*rld Masterpiece Theater who had to sleep in the staple, but would never forget to pray every morning.

“Religion?”

So I asked, and he laughed. “I don't really understand either,” he shrugged: “I'm just observing to see if the things I see are really worth believing.”

With a grin pushing up his eyes, he stared. I felt like I was being devoured.

Goose bumps split the camouflage of skin, revealing the true nature. But of what? Of his — Elliot's eyes.

He has a gentle face, but all that contoured his features were straight lines. The natural existence of curvature was absent.

Obaa-chan's palm touched my frozen back and pushed lightly:

“More importantly, pick up your mess. Or you better pay up.”

“Aye, aye.” I imitated the cartoon character on TV and received a smack on the head.

Picking up the snack on the floor, I tossed them into my mouth.

“Don't eat off the ground, stupid!”

Pah! Another slap. “Owwu!” Though it didn't hurt, I still grabbed my head.

“Go wash them afterward. It's dirty here.”

“But this is your house, Obaa-chan!”

“Exactly.”

A flick on my forehead, but this time the nail hurt me.

“Obaa-chan, cut your nails!”

“Hmph, try again when you're older than I am.”

“How~!”

Seeing the exchange, Elliot beamed again. Seeing his squinting smile, my heart took the initiative to practice aerobics. “Hah, hah...” My chest hurt! It's more of an explosion than a jolt, like receiving a ball from a major league softball player.

“Oi, don't go all colourful here.”

“I-I'm always colourful!”<ref>Original text indicated a Japanese proverb/idiom regarding first love, which apparently is synonymous with colouring. I could not find it as of yet</ref>

I put the food back into its box and ran inside. Submerging the snack in water, I also rubbed and cooled my hand. “Phew~” I hate the feeling of heat; I like winter more than summer. At least, the cold I can stand.

And at the worst, I just have to roll around in a futon.

After cleaning up and drying off, I returned to Obaa-chan. “Oi, it's dripping.” The sharp-eyed Obaa-chan reminded me, but I still carelessly sat next to her while and ate away happily.

Nom, nom… After the wash, they tasted like gum with no flavour. It would seem that this kind of food only has flavouring on the outside!

“…...”

Even with the snack's flavour faded, the aftertaste of Elliot's statement lingered.

To touch what you can't see, you need faith. To show that faith, you need 'ritual and prayer.'

☆

I flipped the calendar; the number '25' shot into view.

Today was the twenty-fifth of June, the prep day of the ritual. It will be extremely busy… Well, not really.

How about treating the headache first? So I could keep my head up at the sky tomorrow.

“...But~ first~” I spun around in the living room, operating the remote.

First, set the channel onto the news program that we hardly watch. “Woosh~” As I began to feel the limit of my cochlea, and my lively twirl became 'Urwa, m-my head…' the forecast segment began. Toyed by my unruly eyes, I barely safe-landed in front of the TV screen. I rolled onto the ground and watched it with ringing in my ears.

Tomorrow's forecast was cloudy with a chance of sunshine. I was glad that it wasn't inverted. There's still a 30 percent chance of raining, but considering the season, this was more than acceptable. “Alright~' I raised my arm weakly. “… I'll stay like this for now.” Like a middle schooler set to stay home, I excused myself. I mean, I am going to see the person who proposed to me!

Mumble, mumble. Tumble, tumble. Trim my nails, tidy some things up, clean the window's edge already covered with dust. In about half an hour, I finally gave up on procrastinating. Pinched under my arms was the now yellow June 21st. It won't stop sounding like the number of a magazine. Due to a botched paint job, June 17th took the day off.

Just like last time, I rode, with the rocket behind me, on my favourite bike. Straddling onto the bicycle also known as 'ケッタ (ketta)' in the country side, I pedaled standing, heading toward the road decorated by the grey cloud that couldn't make up its mind.

The residential is located between the old town and the city that spread out like a squashed jellyfish; there are rarely people in the morning. Since it's a weekday, the buzzing of children was also kept in their schools, so the only ones barking were the dogs. A chocolate-coloured dog lives here, and every time when someone passes in front of the window it would reacted energetically. It's been barking since it was a pup — maybe that's his mission in life.

With no traffic on the road, I cut into the longer, straight road to test out my highest speed. I pumped strength into the thigh that grew stronger after the sore. Woosh~ the sight around stretched out. Wind resistance went from weak to medium.

My heart accelerated like when I first met Elliot.

Naturally, no matter how many turns the wheels had in store, I will never fly in the sky. The bicycle proceeded on the earth, finally delivering me to the house of animals and rockets.

“Thanks!” I rubbed the handles, showing my gratitude to its ten years of service. Is filling the tires next time enough for payment? I'll also throw in waxing for free.

After loosening the rope on the rocket, I lifted my arm to the highest point. I recalled running around in the room with a model airplane. Compare to then, would this rocket reach closer to the sky? Toward the sky, cloud and sun that seem touchable by hand.

Alright, here we go.

“Hi~ Shugoro.”<ref>Yamamoto Shugoro 山本周五郎 is a Japanese novelist during the Showa Period</ref>

Before reacting to me, he has to first be terrified. He's even shaking. And I thought I wasn't a furtive person. During his youth, though, Yamamoto-kun probably didn’t stand out much.

“That Yamamoto…? I mean, isn't it time to ditch 'Yamamoto'?”

“Really?” Back back back, I backed away.

“Not literally! Fine, I'll be Yamamoto… So please, stop running away.”

“Really?” Shuffle shuffle shuffle, I shuffled forward again.

Me and Yamamoto-kun stared at each other. I felt I couldn't be frank, though. So, the solution is to dance around the issue? Mm… Mm!

“Um… Uh, You, uh, here to shoot a rocket?”

He pointed at the rocket I held in my chest; his eyes darted about.

Just like a prey about to be devoured.

“Yeah. Also to turn you down.”

“Huh??”

Seeing the other side lose it, I managed to compose myself. How strange! It's like a scale.

More importantly, isn't the best time to tease him when he's flustered? We can't both be ruffled at the same time.

“Ah, I mean… What I said before… Not that I want you to just forget about it, but I was a little exited, or sudden… But, uh, sorry.”

“Well~ I wasn't really disgusted or anything. But I have to turn you down.”

Yamamoto-kun's eyes attempted to steal the base, but I picked him off to keep his eyes away.

“Turn me down, but— wait. Let me explain everything first!” Panic!

“Absolutely, please do so. But I will still have to refuse the offer.” Smile!

Though cowered, Yamamoto-kun still dropped the hose and displayed a truthfully bashful attitude. His legs, arms and head were bouncing around like a toy tangled by a spring.

“I've liked you since we were little.”

“Thank you.” That’s embarrassing! Especially when others mention old things!

“Well, uh… That's it.”

He picked up the hose, resignedly poured water around the field:

“After I quit my job and came back, I didn't have anything to do. Then I saw you riding by the train station. You looked so happy, like when you're little, riding like that. My eyes and, well… heart, was taken away by you. That's all.”

If you might lose to the embarrassment, just don't say embarrassing words!

He said I looked happy, possibly because my face seems happy all the time. At least I think that's why.

I'm almost always thinking about food when I ride to take my mind off the fatigue though.

“After coming back, the only friend I still have left here is just you, Touwa. That might be one of the reasons too… Aside from affection, I also wanted to interact with people.”

“…...” Not knowing what to say, I kept silent with an equivocal smile.

“Oh, right… What if it wasn't me — it could even be Elliot — do you plan on marrying anyone else?”

“No, I don't. Absolutely not.”

I tried my best to refute lightly; a hint of dejection appeared below Yamamoto-kun's eyes.

“Shame. You're still… um… so pretty.”

“Heheheh, I'm still young, so I don't wanna be tied down.”

“Elliot was the only thing you thought of when you're little though.”

“Let’s set the jokes aside.”

“Hm.”

“Me, my daughter, and my niece living together: that's plenty for me. Loving someone, or having someone love me… Well, frankly, I get my happiness points every day from my family. And in that family, a husband is not needed now.”

Mako-kun and I will be Erio's guardian. I'm surprised with how agreeable this turned out to be:

“I never married Elliot either, so I guess I will stay single forever.”

“I see… Hm.”

He directed the tube skyward, making a rainbow of water.

Yamamoto-kun smiled lightly as if all four corners of his emotion had been held down:

“I understand. I guess I'm just a little carried away since it's been so long since we spoke.”

“Making a decision for being 'a little carried away,' you sure have learned how to be reckless!”

“I'm usually mellower, being forty and all. I don't even have the energy to hop around anyway. Does that make sense?” Well, I almost hop around in home every day! Does that mean I'm actually not forty yet?

After rounding up… I’m about zero. In other words, me, Mako-kun and Erio are the same age. Despite being her mom, we're classmates — actually, I don't want any sci-fi gimmick, so if that were to happen, a lot of things would probably collapse.

Well, if I did say something like that, Mako-kun would probably give me the look. Oh boy~

“You're grown to be quite a sensible adult, Yamamoto-kun.”

“Well, I haven't quite given up yet, to be honest.”

“Unfortunately, I'm an extinct volcano.”

“How about we start as friends first?”

“Eh? I thought we are already friends?”

I played dumb. “That's… right.” Yamamoto-kun widened his eyes deliberately.

“You wanna shoot the rocket, right? Let me see it.”

“Thanks. Tomorrow is the official launch; I just want to do a last check-up.”

“Official launch?” Despite his eyes drifting askance, Yamamoto-kun still took the rocket.

“I told you, didn't I? I want to defeat the aliens.”

“With a PE rocket tip?”

“I want your help. After all, hadn't Tamura Obaa-chan taken care of you before?”

“I suppose so. I mean, I only met you after I started going to the store.”

Maybe he didn't realize his own words, but Yamamoto-kun's skin did not activate the production of red ginger.

“You want me to help, but specifically how? Shoot rockets?”

He poured water into the bottle through a funnel while asking with a disinteresting and professional tone.

“You know it.” I told him when and where.

“Okay. That’s you want me to help with?”

“Correct. How's it looking?”

“It's done. I did my best since you asked me to do it.”

Once again he casually and unabatedly stabbed the soft part of others' heart. Ugh, I could feel the goosebumps.

Yamamoto-kun looked away from the rocket; after scanning around, he shot me a glance:

“So, your daughter is really tall.”

“Eh?”

“I think she's at least 180, right? Is what you're feeding her that good?”

Yamamoto-kun mentioned 'daughter,' hoping for the mother me to respond… Hmn?

I crossed my arms, imagining and putting the model of Erio together. Paint gun… Okay, done. Now, let's think about this.

“Touwa, what's the matter?” I ignored Yamamoto-kun, the source of the question.

Just what is he talking about? Where do you find 180 on Erio…? Three sizes? No matter where, if it were shoved into this model, the shape is still too weird. Is it the sum of a number? If Yamamoto-kun knows how much her three-sizes adds up to, it's time to call the Popo.

Then, her IQ? Power level? Frequency? Whatever the correct answer is, my daughter stands out too much!

Well… About time to give up on escaping reality. Yamamoto-kun already said it from the start. Height. Over 180cm. Hence, the next question is 'who is he talking about?' The question crash landed… Oh? There's someone I knew that fit.

Around the same age as my daughter, and a height that fit that description. I think there's only one person like that in this town.

“Yamamoto-kun.”

“Yes, yes, I am Yamamoto, because that's my nickname. What is it?”

“You're mistaken.”

“Wha?” His hand twisted, a large amount of water poured onto the dirt.

“She's not my daughter.”

My Eri-chan isn't the white dango, but the futon girl!

Yamamoto-kun's eyes shrunk into a dot. Time passed while he connected the line:

“Eh… hah? That's her, right? The weirdly-dressed girl working at the Wagashi store?”

“That's the hardworking employee in my store.”

“But I've heard that your daughter was the girl that walked around town with some weird outfit.” Yep, you're correct!

“That part was indeed true — till this April.”

“April?”

“You said you came back during June, right? Then you probably missed futon Erio.”

“R-really? That wasn't her?”

“Yep.”

“…Well, I thought about how her height was never mentioned… Usually that's what people point out first. I thought something was off, since you don't look alike.”

Mm, indeed we don't. Maekawa-chan told me that she doesn't resemble her parents either. Well, not my business.

“That's quite presumptuous of you.”

“Yeah… But can you really blame me? If a girl walking around in Mr. Sat*rn's outfit isn't weird, I must be living my forty years of life backward!”

Yamamoto, what on earth did you think my daughter was?

“So your kid… What does she dress up like now?”

“Super normal and cute clothes! My daughter is quite dynamic!” Not referring to her evolution.

I'm so thankful of Mako-kun! I'm going to give him a peck on the cheek as thanks next time.

“… I was shooting rockets, hoping that your daughter would see them.”

Yamamoto-kun sighed, revealing the hope he had placed on the bottle rockets:

“I picked this place because I needed an open area where she could see the rockets from the front of that Wagashi store.”

“I see. Why?”

“I thought she's interested in space, so maybe that'll get her attention.”

“Ah, was that also part of the plan to find me?” Right after saying so, I gradually felt ashamed. Were my feelings numbed?

“Yes.”

“The label on your ear, too?”

“I thought she might like the whole cattle mutilation thing. Plus there's a cow around here.”

“I see. By the way, I like cow tongue.”

“She's a dairy cow...”

With the tube slipping from his hand, Yamamoto-kun barely answered my question, appearing as if he'd collapse any second.

Who would have known that the effect of Mako-kun taking off Erio's futon would be so far-reaching? That's the second volume for ya: you have to have the first to… Huh, what am I saying?

“So what? We united again thanks to the rockets!”

“I guess.”

Perhaps due to shock, Yamamoto-kun didn't react too strongly to my rare and embarrassing lines. He will definitively feel it after we split, when he's sitting in his house tub.

“So those leftover rockets, are they all for nothing?”

Yamamoto-kun stared at the warehouse-like building at the corner of the field.

“There's a pile of rockets there. I wanted to have an excuse as well as to get to know her; I asked that someone you mentioned to make a bunch of rockets. I even paid for the things… I guess it’s a graveyard at this point.”

“…...”

A bunch of rockets… Isn't that just what I need?

Like an army of locusts.

Like pigeons covering the sky.

Rituals must be carried out with fanfare and drums.

The signals Elliot sent me from who-knows-when shook my head; the muscles on my cheeks relaxed:

“Yamamoto-kun.”

“Hah? Ah yes, I am Yamamoto. Ahahaha...” It's not the time to give up!

Can't be helped. I lowered the spider's string for him:

“Aren't there a lot of platforms for launching rockets left?”<ref>The Spider's Thread is a short story about Buddha letting a spider's string down into the depth of hell to attempt to rescue a single sinner. In the end, because of the sinner's selfishness, the string broke and he remained in hell</ref>

“Wha? Hm, I did bought an entire set… My wallet's still aching.”

“Is it? To me, you have to be the best domino.”

I smiled at the old friend who bolstered my destiny.

Not just his face, Yamamoto-kun turned bright neck from his neck up. I decided I'll keep proud of my good looks. Awesome! The goal is now a gap-moe in ten years!

☆

On that night, the welcome at the entrance was about six times as rowdy as usual.

“Welcome home.” Four girls and boy filed down from second floor and greeted me in a row. Seeing Erio standing with girls her age, Meme teared up… Like this?

“You're Mako-kun's friends...” As my mouth opened, surprise shut it… Um?

“Ah!” I met eyes with the girl to the leftmost. Both of us realized we have met before.

Or rather, I know all four of them.

“Smooth-skinned sensei.”

“Smooth-skinned sensei?”

“S-smooth-skinned sensei.”

“…...”

Starting from the left, it's the soft-cheeked girl, the giant mistaken as my daughter; the daughter desperately trying to figure out what's going on, and the silent niece with a grim face. Everyone's eyes were askance on the niece.

“Cousin, are you not saying it?” Erio casually asked Mako-kun. Well done, Erio, just nonchalantly force Mako-kun to a dead end. As I thought, he appeared disgusted. Still, knowing he could not completely ignore us, he spoke.

“Isn't Meme-san just Meme-san?”

“Despite being under the strange gaze of a strange girl who's of world-class significant, Mako-kun's , like a self-satisfied main character,  believes and accepts her as a normal girl, and thought he was being clever.”

“Meme-san just successfully delivered a third-person narrative, and thought she was being clever.”

“Mako-kun bitterly riposted, but he's worried that it didn't carry much weight.”

“Meme-san is about to realize that this whole narrative battle is pointless.”

“Then I'll stop.”

Mm, I shut my jaws. Mako-kun sighed while pressing his forehead, mumbling “I'm done.”

After standing there and witnessing our usual banter, soft-cheeked cutie (tentative) froze. “Uwah~ Ya both got some fast comebacks.” She's oddly impressed by something else. Next to her, Maekawa-san let out a snicker, “what~?' irking the cheek-girl. What a lovely environment, like have more daugh— no, sisters! (I asserted with wide eyes.)

“Surrounded by four cute girls, Mako-kun sure is lucky~”

“What’s the notation you used to get that number?”

“Are you embarrassed?”

“You should consider being that sometimes.”

“Ah, then—“ Just as I was about to sigh silently to the hostile Mako-kun, Erio scurried over. Perhaps since she's spent too much away from people, she had forgotten about the right time and place for doing things. Or maybe she just doesn't want to directly confront him. As I contemplated, Erio walked down the entrance barefooted. “Ah, hold it!” She even ignored Mako-kun and circled behind me.

“Without me, mom...” Erio nudged my back, exchanging me into the row. “Now there are three… cute girls. The number, fits.” With three fingers up, she smiled softly.

“Eri-chan...” How considerate she is for her mom! As long as she grew up kind, it doesn't matter if she's not great or rich. I felt like I may or may not have expected that. Well, still a good kid. From the side, though, it probably looked really sarcastic.

“I'm the daughter-certified 'cute girl', nice to meet you all!”

I shook hands with my neighbors. Both Maekawa and soft-cheeked cutie both gave a compromising smile of 'ah… Well, okay,' and held my hand. On the other side, though still looking at me disapprovingly under his eyelids, Mako-kun stuck his hand out. So I had to pull his entire person over and nibble on his neck. Oh my~ it was out of nowhere!

“Eeek!” As if bumping into a serial killer, Mako-kun slipped under sheer terror. Kicking frantically like a puppy, he fell flat on the floor. Even the back of his head rammed into the wall.

Ah~ That was refreshing. Mako-kun's reaction are supposed to be a bit over the top!

“Maekawa, c'mere, c'mere.”

“Yes?”

Since the warm welcoming has ended, I beckoned Maekawa, who stared at Mako-kun amusingly. Just like before, when the lanky, yam-looking girl leaned over, the overwhelming pressure hovered above. “I need your ear closer.” Simply asking her to bend down was enough to give the illusion of a monster-bird flying above.

I put my mouth closer to Maekawa's ear. “I will punch you if you bite my ear.” Kgh, she can read minds?

“Maekawa, I heard you are making bottle rockets?”

“Uh, yeah. So you knew. Do you know that man?”

“Grown-ups have quite the lateral connections! Since vertical gaps are too deep, naturally we grow sideways instead. That's the cruel truth of society, sniffle!”

“But where I work, the gap and bar between the manager and employees is so low, everyone got over it.”

“Because your manager is the type to want to stand and see with the employees!”

“Not~ even~ close. Under what kind of work ethic are you allowed to say that?”

“Geez~ Maekawa-chan, don't be so angry~ You should be smiling instead since you're rarely in such a cute uniform cosplay.”

“I already said this isn't a cosplay, boss. Are you actually not just Touwa's mom, but also transfer student's?”

“Erio and Mako-kun are actually siblings, and I'm actually the slightly-older sister. The theory has been flying around, mostly in my head though.”

“Sheesh. Enough, cut to the chase already.”

“Do you still have some left over stuff to make rockets with?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“And bottles?”

“There's still some. I got them right before recycle day.”

“Then, let Erio and Mako-kun make some tonight. We're going to fire them tomorrow.”

“Eh? Tonight?”

“If it took too long, you can stay.”

“Oh...”

“Okay~, it's settled!” Shifting away from her ear, I slapped my hands together.

What's happened? Doubtful glances fell on me, but I simply smiled to have them relax. Then, my feet once again entered the shoes that were about to be taken off. I saluted, soldier-style.

“I'm heading out again!”

“Eh? Where to?” Relieved from pain, Mako-kun queried.

“It's. A. Secret.” I pouted my lips. Is this what you call brevity? Maybe not.

“Why do you have to say it so irritatingly?”

“As for dinner. Right, how about the four of you make something? You can use whatever is in the fridge.”

I don't really remember what's in there though. In any case, since the fridge is not like a CD case, there's should probably be edible in there. Erio only knows how to make ham sandwiches, but since there are two other girls present, the blossom of cooking will definitely dance on the dining table.

“C-cooking?” Cheek-chan replied bemusedly.

“It's a fantastic chance to snipe your favourite guys!” I casually gave her an encouraging thumbs-up.

“Eeek!” Cheek-chan shrunk exaggeratedly, eyes bouncing about. Fufufu, I saw everything. Her eyes landed on Mako-kun for just a second.

“What do you mean guys? I thought I'm the only one here.”

Mako-kun carelessly nitpicked. Is he generous? Or just dumb? He's usually the high school boy who's all 'I wanna flirt with girls~' Maybe it's because he's not used to the actual doing of things, so he doesn't know how it feels? Nii-san was like a total stalker to his crush! He even confessed to the same girl five times, and was rejected four times. Was his wife not disgusted?

“Yeah, just Mako-kun.”

“So what you mean is… Uh, eh?” His pitch rose; he stared at Cheek-chan's face.

Finally noticed? The two of them even had a look-exchanging party.

Erio stood fixed in the middle of the two, a face of 'what does this have to do with me~?' I thought she was close to Mako-kun. I guess it’s just admiration for her guardian?

Hmng, I seemed to have planted the seed of chaos. So I guess I will just leave.

And also to look forward to the sorts of colour their relationship will be in when I get home.

“I'm also heading back. I'll be back soon.” Maekawa put on her shoes.

“Alright, let's go~ Maekawa-chan.”

“Ah… Mom, bye bye.”

“Yep, I'm going.” I've never thought that hearing Erio's greet will ever be normal again.

I savoured the taste of this springy happiness and head out with Maekawa. Outside was a murky sky with a layer of cloud; a slit of dusk sun hid between the masses, its dots of light painting the silhouettes of people faraway. The sun was setting.

When I was little, my parents would get angry with me if I haven't return home by this time. The curfew is earlier in my house; even with my friends, I've never been there when they split up for the day.

Just once, I ignored the curfew and stayed at my friend's house. Mother actually came to pick me up; for some reason, I was mortified. Face down, I held my mom's hand on the sunset way home. She wasn't angry — rather, she looked lonely.

Mom is no longer with us. She has never seen her granddaughter.

“What are we doing with the rockets?” Maekawa spoke, eyes on the soft twilight sun.

To defeat them! I swallowed the words and looked skyward.

“We are shooting them, of course! With prayers.”

Even though it’s right there when you look up…

It is untouchable by hands.

Send it flying, to the concept of space.

☆

After night, the darkness in Tamura Shop gathers.

The eyelids exposed to the freezing air twitched weakly, inducing sleep. I yawned.

I entered the store, but still waited by the entrance. Omitting the highly unlikely welcome, I headed inside the residence on my own. I pulled open the slide door in the hallway and entered Obaa-chan's room:

“Evening, Obaa-chan. How are you feeling?”

A barren light illuminated the room; compared to the dim hall, it was unnaturally bight. But Obaa-chan covered her entire body with the futon anyway, so it made no difference.

“Hmph, if I felt well, I would happily be outside instead of lying in this room.”

Obaa-chan flung a greet-and-retort with the sulking tone of a child. The futon rose gradually; she revealed half her face. Perhaps doing better today, she personally picked up her glasses from the side:

“Why are you here so late? Don't try to play grown-ups, you damn brat.”

“Obaa-chan, I am actually an adult now.”

I sat on the left of the futon, rebutting Obaa-chan's censuring.

“Oh? Where?” That taunting tone does sound youthful.

“For example, the inside.”

“How about you have someone dissect you?”

“Then, my boobs!”

“I will smack you, brat!”

This deep sound of scolding seemed to follow with it the act of eyeball gauging. Hard to believe she could say something like that to the person she's always treated like her own child.

Eh? Is Obaa-chan still bothered by her own lack of growth?

Uuu, I have the premonition that there will be a rival in the gap-moe candidates.

“Simply speaking, you only grew on the outside.”

“Wow~ I can't believe you just said that out loud!”

“An adult with the brain of a child. That has to be the worst thing.”

Obaa-chan swallowed the pill made of joy and amusement, laughing only after a long pause; the way she opened her mouth gave me the unacceptable feeling of relief. The feeling of loss has been oozing deeper into my heart, creating a thin, tepid film. Gingerly feeling the weight teetering like a hammock, I knocked lightly, wondering 'how much longer?' There is no response.

“Heave… ho!” Obaa-chan tried to get up with a limped push up.

“Just lie down, it's fine. I will be leaving soon anyway.”

“Shut it, I want to sit.” Obaa-chan answered crudely; she folded her dragging legs and kneeled on them.

She exhaled slowly, as if to make sure her torso will not break, before sitting upright. The palms on her knees trembled; her elbows seemed they would snap at any second.

With a sour expression, Obaa-chan completely straightened her back. Perhaps to escape the pain coming from deep within, she focused only on me. With a hmph, she breathed in.

“Indeed, the only thing that has grown is just your body.” The statement was without any sentiment.

“I think you've shrunk, Obaa-chan.”

“Of course! If you can grow, adults can shrink.”

“Huh...”

“I've also shrunk 3 centimeters compare to sixty years ago. Where on earth did it go?” She resentfully looked to a surprising direction. She's angry like a person who found her saved-up snack stolen by someone else in the house.

“Don't tell me, aliens can steal people's height?”

Aliens. My brows and cheek reacted to this sensitive word.

For Obaa-chan, the ‘aliens’ are the source of misfortune.

It is also known as 'fate' — or 'concession' — to others.

“How's Erio doing? Is she helping out?” I held the rudder, steering the conversation away.

“Just how much did you spoil her? You are too pampering!”

Is she telling me to insult someone when there's a problem? Ugh, that doesn't matter. The point is that Obaa-chan didn't really answer in order.

“Even I'm wondering how big my actual heart it, letting someone who can't even welcome customers work in the front!”

“I wonder.”

“You sent her here, right? She will be in all kinds of hell now.”

“I suppose.”

“Teach her how to be as dumb as you are, so she could maybe deal with hardship.”

Obaa-chan followed a bug flying by the light. I too, looked up. Yet, it had disappeared.

I first waited for Obaa-chan's eyes to come back, then I began.

Gee, I always say the important things last. It's not a good habit:

“Obaa-chan.”

“What, old brat?” Don't make me kick yer ass!

“Are you free tomorrow?”

“I don't want to, it's a pain.”

“…...”

“...Don't give me that look… Ahh~ fine! I'm kidding; I'm free. Asking someone who's always sleeping if she's free, it just sounds like a taunt! So, what do you want?”

“Mm.” I sat upright. In that stance, I asked solemnly while fixing my messy hair:

“Do you want to go the beach tomorrow?”

“Wha? A sea bath? I can't do something so devious, no.”

Shaking her skin and bones, she refused to go outside as if there was no room for debate.

“How could I go to the beach now?”

“Why not?”

“You should know.”

“Your health?”

“Idiot! I'm not confident with my shape!”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, you brown!”

“Hmph, don't get carried away because you have thicker fat, purple.”<ref>Not quite sure why they called each other colours</ref>

Hmph! We pointlessly battled with our eyes. That reminds me: how's Erio's chest growing?

“I'm going to be taken away soon anyway. Nothing means anything.”

Obaa-chan easily spoke her mind. I knew she didn't misspeak.

Because she has always been like this.

That's why I've been thinking since twenty eight years ago.

It matters not if it was incomplete or whatever. Like struggling in water, I waved my arms:

“Just for tomorrow, I beg you!”

I pleaded, and pleaded, with all my prayers.

The thread I've sewed with actions was close to tear.

Would it hold till the end? That would be out of anyone's grasp.

I prayed to an existence unrelated to fate.

Finally, a nostalgic word of refreshment appeared.

“I remember that!”

“Eh?”

“Shouji has always said that whenever he's asking a girl out. 'Just for tomorrow, just for tomorrow!' After the date, he would then proceed to ask 'can we do this again?' He would even say 'today's date ended today; next time's will end next time.' What a buffoon!”

Obaa-chan looked out the house, toward the town, peering as if laughing at Nii-san's silly face.

At the same time, she smiled peacefully, as though enjoying the tranquil breeze of the sea.

“How did you know?” I asked, looking up in astonishment.

“You're the one who ran here and told me everything.”

“Ah, that's right. You sure have a good memory.”

“Of course! It's what you told me, after all.”

As Obaa-chan so declared, her sickly face seemed dyed with some colour:

“I'm at a lost, but I will go. I'll close the store for a day.”

“...Okay! Thank you, Obaa-chan, for going along with my whims.”

“You've always been whimsical. You will lose your voice if you tried to thank me every time. Just forget about saying those kind of stuff.”

“Alright, then time to head home~” I stood up energetically.

“Oh~ Go home, then. I'm really tired.” Shoo, Obaa-chan attempted to drive me off.

“I'll pick you up tomorrow. Be sure to get up and be ready!”

“Ah~ I know, I know. You be sure to get here!”

“Aye, aye.” She won't hit my head now even if I mess around. That's good, for now.

I turned back, discovering the door had been open all this time.

“Meme.” This was the first time Obaa-chan called my name today.

Looking back from the hall, I saw Obaa-chan's laboured figure sitting there:

“Be careful on your way home — you are a mother now.”

“Mm, I know. I will see you tomorrow.”

I bowed deeply before shutting the door:

“...Pheeeeew.”

As if imitating Obaa-chan, I let out all the air in my lungs.

I rested my forehead on the door, eyes closed. In sixteen bits colour, droplets of returning memories flushed the darkness.

The illusion of a little girl running through the hall with snacks in hands echoed behind.

Just you wait, aliens.

We may not see you, but the rockets will still get you.

☆

“So after being too excited in the bed for the entire night, I woke up late.”

Hearing my shameless report, Obaa-chan did not look disappointed. 'I've seen this coming,’ she seemed to say.

“Really, now? I see you've an adult since long before: you haven't even change since three.”

“Yep, yep.”

“I will admit that you've grown enough to no look for excuses. Now, are we going to the beach? Take me there.”

As promised, Obaa-chan had on her outside clothes. She reached for me on the futon, and I took her hand over as if checking a ticket. I carried her up. Light, today as well. And she will still be light. I have, after all, became an adult… I'm forty. Argh!

“Hohoh~ You seemed tired!” Obaa-chan mocked at my undulating back.

“It's cuz I biked here as fast as I could. My knees are… a bit shaky.”

“You had no problem running around when you're young, and now you're playing old?”

Although it was unclear which part of that contained a compliment, Obaa-chan was somehow happy. People would always smile when they see someone they knew from long ago show up on the TV. In all the recent conversations I've had with Obaa-chan, I always felt so.

I went out the store front. For me, the true entrance to this house has always been the store. Obaa-chan, on the other hand, merely breathed lightly to my reflection.

As the forecast predicted, a stream of grey cloud covered the morning sky. Only if it would be sunny by the time we get there. I wished without expectation.

“It's not the same one.” Obaa-chan commented on the bicycle.

“That one broke long ago when I was still chasing Elliot around.”

“Oh.” And for some reason Obaa-chan looked away resentfully.

I let Obaa-chan sit on the back, had her hold onto my waist, and tied her hands together with a towel… Well, that was the plan, until — “No need, I will sit in the basket.” I was baffled for multiple reasons:

“Having you where the cargo is is kinda...” And the rocket's there too.

“Hush! I don't want to be tied up like a criminal.

“Just let me in.” She so stated, urging me from the back. A complex feeling like sputum in my throat bugged me; still, I seated Obaa-chan in the basket.

The transparently blue June 17th now sat in the back, strapped down by the towel brought for other reasons. 21st, the previously tested rocket, was better looking, but I chose this one today. Reason being that the lucky colour of the day was blue according to the morning fortune-reading program. So I thought, to affirm the unpredictable action that is a prayer, something just as unpredictable would suffice, right?

“How does it feel?”

“Worse than I imagined. I have no flesh on my hindquarter, so it hurts my tailbone.”

“So why don't you sit back here?”

“I refuse to.”

Obaa-chan shook her loose hair like a kid throwing a tantrum, turning down the offer to change seat. She never mentioned anything about the bottle rocket either, only maintaining the 'concise' attitude.

I first made sure both person and rocket were seated firmly, then straddled onto the bicycle as its driver. Kicking off the stand, I slowly gained balance while beginning to wind forward.

“Have you been there with Ojii-chan?”

“I swam in the river around here in the summer once. A brat fell in there, so I had to dive in the water. We didn't have cell phones, or people living around there, so we couldn't take the chances. I might have died too, had I been careless. Kids are such a handful!”

“Mm~ Obaa-chan is pretty hard to crack too!”

“What did you say? Seriously! Uwohh!” Every time when the basket bounced, Obaa-chan would look nauseous and complain about 'her butt hurting.' It seemed like to her, it would be too embarrassing if she didn't say anything. We began to enter streets where people frequent; perhaps that's how she chose to combat the awkwardness brought by this fact.

“Let me clarify beforehand.” Mixed in the wind, Obaa-chan's words flowed back.

“What is it?”

“I don't have a swim suit.”

Old people are clever, so out of self-defense, I remained silent.

Pedaling as hard as I could, I let the wind disperse all words.

As speed increased, that belief I had since childhood grew stronger.

If it were now, I might be able to fly. Again and again, I reminisced the wheels that spun, and climbed in the air.

☆

So was it the result of bringing today's lucky colour?

As we arrived at the beach after an hour of laborious biking, the sky drove the clouds away, letting pure sun shower the ground.

As if cut in half by a plethora of aircraft, the grey layers split. From the opening came the revered face of the sun that could never be directly viewed. My blood warmed to the skin touched by light.

“It's too hot. My nose is going to dry.”

Obaa-chan, who had been out of the sun for months, collected all the wrinkles around her nose, complaining at the sun. Her dried skin was as though raisin — as dry as it can be.

I parked the bicycle on a platform that rose like a hill. Then, I retrieved the rocket before helping Obaa-chan exit the basket. “What is that toy for? Are you going to play with it?” Obaa-chan didn't ask about the rocket till now; I simply twisted a grin. Picking her up again, I walked toward the platform to have her sit down. From here she should be able to see the ocean and the sky.

“Again with the uncomfortable seat.” Despite her grumbling, Obaa-chan still looked over the sea. From the wave-less sea came a breeze filled with the smell of tide.

Such rich wind even gave the illusion of sand entering the nostrils.

“Alright! Yamamoto-kun~!!” Next to Obaa-chan, I shouted toward the Yamamoto-kun who couldn't see me. “Oi~” From beneath returned the sound of sand shuffling, and a reply. Yamamoto-kun seemed used to the nickname, as well, not even responding.

With a dissatisfied scowl, Obaa-chan watched as things unfold.

“I'll leave this to you!” I tossed the plastic rocket toward the sky. On the bottle's way up, the sun penetrated it and shot a beam of azure into my eyes. The radiance was similar to the light shining down into the surface of the sea. For those drowning, it is both hope and death — a symbol to release them from the pain. I experienced the same light once, whenever I was too stubborn to lose to some friends when we went diving.

The rocket disappeared from my sight.

“Did you get it?”

“Somehow! Say something next time!”

Yamamoto-kun casually protested; his shuffling distanced away. Like with a cup of Ramen, we waited for a bit. I crossed my arms needlessly, standing showily against the sea.

“That voice. I’ve heard it before.” Obaa-chan mumbled apathetically.

“Really? Well, you might have met before.”

I answered; as though to enjoy the echo, I yelled at the top of my lungs: “Are you ready~?”

“Not ~yet~!” The soft-cheeked Cutie answered sluggishly.

“That one too. I think she was throwing a fit a while ago.”

“You sure know a lot of people, Obaa-chan.” And again: “Are you ready~?”

“Probably not~”

“Shouji’s son.” Perhaps for brevity’s sake, Obaa-chan revealed the answer.

“Are you ready~?”

“Not yet~” This time, Maekawa’s crisp voice.

“This one I don’t know.” 

“There’s a new person, in case you are ever bored.”

Alright! Then… “Are you ready~?”

“R-ready~” Oh, that’s my daughter.

 Deducing the answer to ‘what is this line-up?’ Obaa-chan squinted, elbows on her knees. 

“What on earth is this about?” Face sitting on her palms, she commented with the tone of a bemused child.

A momentary pause appeared. I gazed at the waves washing away at the sand. I recall going to the beach with my family. Cold sweat beaded on my palm when I remembered the bouncy texture of the jelly fish. Then I remembered the day when Erio was brought back from the sea. Neither her person nor clothes were touched; she simply shivered in the winter sea donned in summer clothes — her lost memory of the past six months made me wonder if she traveled through time. Then at last, I see two Erio's — one sealed away in her futon, and another, standing on her own two feet — walking and standing together on the sand.

The memories appeared, like bubbling waves, and drifted away above the heart's surface.

Images of my first kiss with Elliot here — and I personally tore them apart with a smile.

Alright, alright~~ I stepped forward onto the edge and let my voice out.

Split, sea~~! With the same ambition, I yelled:

“Are you ready~~?”

The other side took a breath: a moment of delay. And then—

“””We are ready~!”””

“All right~ Let’s do it!!”

Answering my commanding arm, streams of water crashed into the sand.

Five plastic rockets broke free of gravity. The crux of recoil, water, continued to push; as if fishes in the sky, the rockets swam together into the air. An especially eye-catching, golden rocket lead vanguard into space.

With the altitude and volume less than that of a millionth of space, the fuel reached it limit. In terms of impact and everything else, it stood no chance.

Yet we still looked up to the genuine rockets that soared upward. Our eyes followed the trails, exhilarating us.

Dreams, hopes or prayers, those tiny frames carried all of that.

Obaa-chan wasn’t far behind, following the rockets with confusion. After confirming that with a side glance, I returned back onto the projectiles.

“Ah!” I sounded slightly disappointed. As each rocket reached its apex, they began to free fall.

Heads pointed at the horizon, the rockets took turn coming back. Pretending to be the tide, they did not refuse gravity on their way down, and disappeared from view.

“Urgh~ We’re not done yet!”

It is no time to be frustrated! You too, Obaa-chan, quit looking so lost!

Although it felt like forever, the second wave came in mere seconds. The second batch followed upward, again embellishing the sky. This, was the second squad of the rocket legion.

The mundane-looking black rocket fell behind his comrades, and swerved about. It might look like the most relaxed with its leisure flight; who made it? Must be someone clumsy!

“Obaa-chan, are you looking? Good!”

“Oi, what is…”

“Ah, here comes the next!”

Squad number three, the center. All rockets activated without hesitation, tracing out five different paths.

“Look! Look! That’s my June 17th! It’s flying!”

I shook Obaa-chan’s shoulders, pointing at the translucent-blue rocket in the front. Obaa-chan gawked, replying only with a ‘ahh.’

“How uninspired of you~” I laughed it off.

Perhaps because of its colour, my rocket carried out the longest distance, marking the record of the furthest in the air. Then it tipped at the peak and fell with its head first. I clamped down on my teeth, unwilling to let go of that sense of flight. Yet the rocket simply fell into retirement. Was that it? Any regrets? Fading away, it seemed to mock me so.

It overlapped with the feeling when Elliot had disappeared without a word. Something in me snapped.

“Elliot, you ass~!!” I yelled, hoping to reclaim my temper that way.

For the rockets, these might be the last.

They left, not because it is their job, but because it is their mission in life.

The most spectacular one flew the closest to the sea, but didn’t look like a bottle at all.

With accessories included, it was shaped deliberately like a fish. The rocket shot directly toward the sun; with the body of a pale Skyfish, it drew a white line across the sky.

It may not have flew the farthest, but anyone would remember the vigorous flight of its incongruous silhouette.

Like a dying Skyfish in its final moments, it must have wished for someone to see it.

“Meme.”

“Wait! There’s still one more…”

“Hah?”

The pivot of the ritual. I was restless, as though seconds were hours:

“Here it is!”

To break through the field of view, that object rose from below, floated into the air, and flew into the sky.

A red plastic bottle with ridiculous speed zoomed by.

A bit further, a bit more, and more.

With prayers and envy, I wanted to see it off to wherever it goes.

But I already knew its fate.

Get there. Get there. Get there! Hit the aliens! Punch him in the guts!

You wanna see some real flesh? Look at your own!

The words of prayer exited naturally.

With me!

“Yamamoto!!”

Flash, explosion and flame hatched on the distant sky.

“Whoaaa!!” Hahah, Obaa-chan jumped!

The rocket burst. According to my plan, and according to Yamamoto-kun’s design.

The firework scattered sparks. Red particles danced, as to pollinate themselves onto the earth, connecting the resonance of scarlet onto the tympanic membrane.

A breath of the gas electrified by the explosion seemed to awe even the lungs.

Raucous cheers came below, one after another. I guess Yamamoto-kun didn’t tell the others? I assume he had told everyone to keep away for the sake of safety.

Obaa-chan kept her head up, completely fixed on the spot. Her eyes remained glued to where the bottle had exploded; her eyelids had given up on blinking.

On the other hand, I was thrilled. Accomplishment and stomach acid boiled deep within my body.

Elliot, I… I did it!

I tried so hard and did it.

So, did I defeat them?

I waited quietly. The answer to my doubt formed.

A wind scattered everything, gradually ending the firework.

The overwhelming sense of achievement went down, spreading into the nooks and crannies via the capillaries.

My toes rustled; my skin almost softened in the heat.

“You… What…” Obaa-chan looked like she was talking without moving her lips. Or maybe she’s mortified by the fact that she screamed. Either way, she didn’t know where to look.

“Ahahah! That’s not made by some amateurs! The firework master’s son, what’s his face… Yamamoto-kun made that plastic rocket. According to him, he used gun powder as the fuel, and the body was carbonized.”

“Oh… Is that so? Then, that voice must have been Ashiro’s.”

Ah, so that’s his name! Ashiro-kun. I remember the job part because I’ve eavedropped on him and Elliot. In other words, I remember that because of Elliot!

Obaa-chan’s emotion seemed numbed from the tinnitus; her eyes balls spun, but received nothing. I felt that describing astonishment as 'bubble-eating' seemed fairly appropriate.

“How was it?”

“Scared the light out of me.” For Obaa-chan, it was a very frank and honest comment.

“Have the aliens let their guard down with the fake rockets, then finally send the real deal up there.”

Boom! I imitated the explosion to relive my senses to the impact:

“This have to have annihilated them.”

By aliens, I mean those around Obaa-chan.

“Of course!” Obaa-chan answered with a poker face, grumbling: “This is too much for an old person.” Probably due to calming down, she exclaimed again: “Ah~ that surprised me.”

“It would have been pointless if you weren’t!”

“What, you want me to die from shock”

“Well, do you feel alive? How long has it been?”

Were the aliens in Obaa-chan — the nihilist — defeated?

Even for just a moment — even if it cannot be measured.

Obaa-chan shut her opened mouth, her lips pursed.

Her spying eyes shone. Perhaps out of fatigue, she closed her eyelids tightly.

And so she returned her cheeks onto her wrists, pretended to be ambivalent:

“Mm, it does feel great being able to let go of the stupid little things.”

“Hahah!”

To my laughter, Obaa-chan sourly mumbled, “this is no joke.”

“Well, I didn’t think the explosion was going to be so big.”

“… So, that’s it?” Obaa-chan questioned.

“Yep, that’s it.” It’s over. The only thing left to do is to enjoy lingering taste.

“You thought of all this?”

“I thought of all this!”

“All this time?”

“All~ this time. The aliens who wanted to perform cattle mutilation on Obaa-chan are gone now. They could have just stick with animals. Why did they have to cross the line? A hare will bite when cornered, you know.”

“Hmph, you even had a hand in the missing animals. Great work.”

“Thank you~” With head held high. Needless to say, Obaa-chan was being ironic.

“Absolutely idiotic.” Obaa-chan shrugged.

“But it was so much work! I’m even used to muscle sore now.”

I spun my right shoulder. “That’s just you getting more muscle.” I guess that works too.

“Ah, but that means… You knew I abduct the animals?”

“Of course! Normally speaking, who in her right mind would be so happy to report something like that? Besides…”

As if to be dramatic, Obaa-chan stopped.

“Besides?”

“There was an obvious claw mark on the back of your hand. Was it a cat?”

“Mm.” Must have been about two weeks ago when Obaa-chan was checking out my hand.

I involuntarily look down at my hand. The wound had healed.

“Animals have hated your guts since you were little.”

“You remember a lot, Obaa-chan.”

Quit acting so high and mighty! The anger seemed to gather near her lips, yet Obaa-chan only looked away:

“I told you: I remember everything you told me.”

“Heheh, thanks.”

I showed my elation. And so, Obaa-chan turned 180 degree around. In other words, toward me.

I smiled, deeply touched by the unfriendly attitude of hers.

“I defeated them.”

With twenty eight years of my life, I’ve defeated Obaa-chan’s aliens.

“With that?”

“Yep. Didn’t the rockets take out those aliens spectacularly?”

Did they? I ignored Obaa-chan’s muttering and kept talking:

“What I’m saying is, they will not take my grandmother away yet.” 

I even went as far as to accentuate my victory.

“Hmph, my stupid granddaughter knows nothing of the aliens.”

Obaa-chan’s maiden last name was Tamura. She hmphed at me; pieces of youth returned to her visage.<ref>In Japan, and I suspect many cultures as well, the term 'grandmother' – or other terms such as uncles, aunt, sister, etc — are not necessarily used for only people of these age with actual blood tie with the speaker. For example, 'Onii-san' is commonly used to address young man in a friendly manner. In this particular case, it wasn't clear until this point that Tamura Obaa-san is actually Meme's actual grandmother</ref>

She threw away her grim facade, revealing her true face.

I patted my chest in relief.

Peering from the top, I stared at the beach. There’s Mako-kun, surrounded by the girls; Erio, Maekawa-chan, and soft-cheeked Cutie. I held onto the Obaa-chan to let her see the view; we smiled at each other.

“For the son of that idiot Shouji, he’s in a rather envious place.”

“I know. The only reason Nii-san left town was for a girl!”

They basically eloped. Neither of their families were happy. And because of that, Nii-san rarely visited. Even with Mako-kun, I bet, he didn’t want me to be the guardian.

“Now I remember, Mako-kun is actually Obaa-chan’s great-grandson. So, how does it feel to finally meet him?”

“The first time he and Erio came, I thought it was you and Shouji.”

Obaa-chan shut her lips, as though remember the sour taste of nostalgia:

“After that, I’ve resolved to see the whole 'life-flashing-before-eyes' thing.”

“You really are a negative grandma~”

“I’ve been like this since your grandfather died. To keep it on the low, lest I crash and burn, I will have no strength for regrets.”

She grumbled forsakenly, and used it to dispel her pent-up grief:

“Even since I became alone, I blamed the gods and the aliens for my living for so long. All that lives dies, but the 'when' differs. If there is someone who decides our fate, then he can be hated.”

Like a machine gun, Obaa-chan spewed words that seemed to claw through the sound of waves.

On the other side, a shamble quartet came from the beach, singing ‘happy birthday to you.’ One of them is having a birthday?

“It’s easier that way: people cannot express hate or grief to that which they can neither see nor touch. This is how we come to term with reality. Even if we must swallow insanity and stuff it deep in the bowel, at least we can live on, thinking ‘it is what it is.’ It is complacent; it is painful, but at least you can retain the will to stay alive. Even when your grandfather is gone, or when your daughter is gone, or if I’m the only one who will see my great-grandson, nothing will change.”

Her tone was as if a hardened chunk of something in the rumen.

Even though it wouldn’t have been inappropriate with some mixed tears, Obaa-chan never cried.

Happy birthday Ryuushi~. My ears picked up the wacky lyrics. Ryuushi (粒子), like particles?

“But, you stupid granddaughter!” She glared. Just like a grandmother censuring her grandchild who had taken a prank too far.

“I’m sorry.” I lowered my head, apologizing to many people.

To Erio, for not being a perfect mother. To the animals, for forcing them to participate in a human’s business. To Yamamoto-kun, the friend who I used.

To Obaa-chan, for ignoring her will and projecting mine onto her.

…But, all I want is for her to stay for a while longer.

For my selfish wish, I wanted to defeat fate.

“There is nothing to apologize for.” Obaa-chan spoke again with a dried voice:

“Meme.”

“Yes?”

“Did you teach Erio ‘that’?”

“That? …Oh, you mean the futon? No, she figured that one out herself.”

“Mm… Wasn’t that what your grandfather did?”

She showed me a face of both sadness and joy:

“He too, hid in the futon when things go south. Like when he ate too much of the shop’s food, or when he was scolded for selling weird key chains to the kids, he would always hide in the futon.”

“Ahahah, it’s in the blood!” I clapped twice: “humans are truly mysterious!”

I felt the same thing when Obaa-chan wanted to ride in the bicycle’s basket.

Heritage, fate and the like connect us. Like a domino, one after another.

To resist it is as if to walk on water; however, I think it’s possible to change where the dominos fall. After what I did today, did I stop Obaa-chan’s dominos from falling toward the aliens?

“It is the same for me.”

“What is?”

Obaa-chan beamed the most brilliant smile at me, looking up toward the blue sky where the rocket flew:

“When your grandfather died, my health also deteriorated. Right, remember I told you I was close to dying? Yet twenty eight years later, the gods never came to pick me up despite my failing health. The doctor I knew told me fifteen years ago that ‘you don’t have long.’ Well, here I am.”

She said so while lying down, arms and legs spread like wings:

“The gods might actually be very tactile!”

“Hah? Tactile?”

“Maybe they were waiting for me. To defeat the aliens.” To defeat them.

“To defeat themselves?”

“Yep.”

“… Hmph, this isn’t some drama. They should have just killed me with a cross death-ray.” Denying as she did, she sounded fulfilled. Lying there, Obaa-chan gazed straight at my face. A long sigh, as if the evaporation of her thoughts.

After that cleansing sigh, tranquility triumphantly occupied Obaa-chan’s face.

“Stupid people truly are full of surprises.” Obaa-chan uttered a few more fading words. From her relaxing lips and eyes though, it probably wasn’t anything bad.

In any case, I replied to that first part:

“I am not an idiot: I just finished a game of sudoku on a magazine!”

Shut up, Obaa-chan whispered. “You’d be cuter if you were dumber.” She then said so:

“When I’m dead, hand that store to Erio.”

“…Really!” Again with those words. But I swallowed them back after Obaa-chan’s next line.

“But I’m not dying yet!”

She hurried added.

“Eh~ You’re so stingy~ Give some to your frequent customer me too~”

“Didn’t you get that pastry store from your mom?”

“That store is no longer in my hands!”

“Judging by your work ethic, it’s hard to say if it was ever.”

“Hey, Obaa-chan.”

“Mm.”

“Can we go somewhere before heading back?”

I suggested the continuation of our day out, watching for her reaction. Obaa-chan immediately responded:

“Mm, sure. Either way…”

At that moment, she slightly straightened her torso.

With elbows holding her up, she flexed her abdomen. Even behind the clothes, the changes were visible. The tightening of the corner of her eyes, the clamping of her jaw: they were signs of her holding on.

Exerted impulse drove Obaa-chan. It pushed her atrophied muscles, damaged bones, and brain that constantly struggled with the legs that could no longer stand. The disjointed limbs caused her to roll over. But she had not given up on the goal. I held my hand back, digging nails deep into the palm and waited quietly for the moment to come. Ryuushi’s birthday song paused; silence was upon us. Waves echoed faintly, as though guarding the space where something was about to happen.

And so, the effort was able to connect with the stubborn force of gravity.

That moment, I saw the particles appearing from Obaa-chan’s hair.

“Either way, the store’s closed for the day. What’s better than spending a day with your granddaughter?”

Obaa-chan’s hand stretched upward.

I cherishingly held it, gentling rubbing the back of her hand.

Let’s go see Ojii-chan.

I’ve already decided the first thing to tell him.

That is, even when separated from so many people, I am still alive.

I, have turned forty.

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==Translator's notes and references==
<references/>

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