Tsukumodo:Volume 2 Self

Have you ever wished that you existed twice?

I'm not talking about twins or anything like that. I’m talking about a second "you" who can stand in for you.

Come to think of it, there was a copy-robot in a famous anime show that I used to watch when I was a child.

In order to act as a mysterious superhero, the protagonist made the robot go to elementary school in his place. The robot had some amazing abilities: it had free will, would act independently, and could then share its memories with the protagonist.

If you had access to something like that, you could make it do your homework when you felt tired, go to school when you weren’t in the mood, or earn money for you to fritter away on whatever you wanted.

Aah, that would be so convenient.

It does sound like you’d be acting like a pretty nasty slave-driver, but that’s not really the case. After all, the two of you share everything - fun and not-so-fun

Mh? Then take on the not-so-fun stuff yourself, you say?

...Now that's an entirely different matter.

Well, there’s no point in daydreaming. Possessing something like that would be too good to be true, and even if it were possible, there’d bound to be some kind of catch.

◆

"I'm back."

"Ya," I said as I paused the game I was playing and turned to the person who had just entered the room.

It was a high school student. He had just come back from school, so he was still wearing his uniform and carrying the official school satchel. His short haircut, sun-tanned skin, and strong build suggested that he was the sporty sort.

If there were a third person in the room, he would have been flabbergasted.

The face of that student looked identical to mine. Not similar, but the exact same.

And our faces weren’t the only things that were identical—our body sizes, haircuts, shoulder widths, weights, skin tones, leg lengths, shoe sizes—everything was the same.

We weren't identical twins. Even so-called “identical” twins look similar at best, and aren’t actually identical.

Our appearances, however, were exactly the same in every respect.

He was like my mirror image, which is why I called him "copy."

"Give me the satchel."

After taking the satchel from my copy, I rummaged in it for a manga that had just come out today. I had commanded him to buy it for me on his way home. When I took the manga out, I accidentally snagged a sheet of paper, which then fell to the ground.

"What's that?"

"The results from the quiz I told you about yesterday."

"Did you mention it to me?"

I took a look at it. Next to my name, Jirou Kishitani, was a 100. It was literally a perfect score.

"Not bad at all."

"The test covered the stuff we studied yesterday. It paid off, didn't it?"

"You're the one who studied, though."

(But I get all the credit. Heh, looks like I can look forward to my report card this year.)

I tossed the sheet away and threw myself onto my bed with the new manga. My copy picked up the sheet and sat down where I had been sitting.

"Oh? You made a lot of progress, didn't you?" he suddenly said as he looked at the TV screen.

I’d been gaming all day while my copy was at school. Of course I made some decent progress.

‘Cause both my parents work from the early morning ‘till late at night, there's no one who would bitch at me for skipping school. No, I was at school, I guess? Or rather, my copy was. But practically it's the same.

"Train my characters while I'm reading this manga!"

"I don't mind, but let's share our memories before you start reading manga."

My copy refers to himself as "boku," but that’s only when he's with me, of course. I had also made him change his manner of speaking a bit. I would feel really awkward if we talked the exact same way. After those small tweaks, I no longer felt like I was talking to myself and could relax.

My copy got on the bed, lay on top of me and touched his forehead to mine.

It was a sight that could easily be misunderstood. But we weren't doing anything questionable; this was how I could turn the memories of my copy into my own.

While I collected myself, I felt something flowing into my head. It was the memories my copy had experienced that day.

I saw that he went to school and attended classes. He surprised everyone with the full mark he had received on the short test. Figures—I haven't gotten a full mark in my entire life. That’s unsurprising, because I never did my homework properly, let alone prepared myself properly for school. It was kind of funny to see the reactions of the teacher and the other students.

There was also a scene that stood out from my club activities, where he played soccer. I saw him score a goal in a practice game that was being played against the first-string team. The goalie was a guy from the first-string team who I couldn't stand. He was gnashing his teeth. Glorious. After that, my copy went to a convenience store, bought my manga, and came home.

"Man, you rock." I had to praise him after seeing that test score and his soccer playing.

My copy got off me and smiled wryly.

"Is that self-praise?"

"Oh, looks like it is. You're me after all, aren't you?"

I couldn't explain what on earth he was.

I could only say that he was my copy.

A copy that looked the same as me and had the same skills. One who did things like going to school, studying, and training my game characters for me.

It's like there were two of me.

But while he was me, he somehow wasn't me.

He was a version of me who had to obey my every command.

What a convenient tool I had gotten my hands on.

I could do whatever I wanted. I didn't have to do anything I didn't want to do anymore.

Ever since I had obtained that tool, my life had been fulfilled.

The manga scene I was reading wasn't particularly funny, but I couldn't stop laughing.

Ah, right. Gotta make him do today's homework.

◆

"Nhaaa," I yawned as I watched the match.

It was one to one with a five minutes remaining. I guessed it would end in a draw.

The motivated guys were fighting hard for the ball control, while the unmotivated guys like me just watched from afar.

To explain the situation: we had PE and had started a soccer match.

"Kurusu, the ball!"

"Gotcha!"

The ball got kicked toward me. I just wanted to pass it on and be done, but Kishitani, an opposing player, took the ball from me and dribbled around me toward the goal.

"Kurusu, get your act together!"

Even though my teammates complained at me, I didn't run after him. He was in the soccer club; even if I managed to catch up with him, I wouldn't be able to steal it back. And as if to prove me right, Kishitani easily dodged the defenders who tried to steal the ball from him one after the other.

"Man, how childish can you get? That guy's in the soccer club and still gives his best..."

"The guys he's outplaying are in the soccer club as well," said my teammate Shinjou as he approached me.

As he had said, the players Kishitani was fighting against were also members of the same soccer club, but failed to regain the ball.

"Heh, believe it or not, but he is actually restraining himself!"

"Really? I mean, look, they have nothing on him!"

"He used to be a good-for-nothing who would only rush into the opponent's field like an idiot, but he's become incredible lately! He's been practicing like a different person, and continued even when everyone else had gone home. I guess something brought about a change of his state of mind? I've heard that by now even the seniors of the first-string team have a hard time getting the ball from him."

When the defense had finally gathered around him, he skilfully passed the ball to a teammate of his.

"He's even started to do some decent team play like now."

"Has he improved only lately?"

"Yeah. He's really like a different person."

"Like a different person, eh?" I said while gazing at Kishitani who was running toward our goal.

On the stroke of full time, Kishitani received a pass and slammed the ball into the net.

"The loser team's in charge of clearing up!" announced the teacher right after he had blown the final whistle.