My classmates had been restless since morning.
I could hear them discussing their plans for Halloween. Everyone was talking about their costumes and where they’d meet up in Shibuya before heading to various parties.
Maaya and a group of her friends were gathered next to me. They, too, were getting together for a costume party.
“Saki, are you sure you can’t come?” Maaya asked.
“I’ve got plans.”
I had no choice—I’d already agreed to work. That said, I didn’t mention what I was doing. A lot of kids were meeting up in Shibuya, and if they kept asking me questions, they might find out where I worked.
Besides, I didn’t really like the party atmosphere. And yet…these days I’d begun to think that maybe it would be fun to spend a holiday like this with people I was close to… It could be nice to walk around town in costume if Asamura were with me. Even if I wasn’t good with parties, I wanted to spend more time with Asamura and make memories together to cherish.
Once school was over, I headed to the area around Shibuya Station for work.
The sun was finally slipping toward the western horizon; it was past dusk, and the sky was turning blue. The Shibuya 109 building cast a long, wide shadow that fell across the street at my feet.
The eastern sky, visible through the gaps between buildings, was almost the color of night, and the wind caressing my cheeks was laced with the smell of dead leaves. Winter was on its way, and my breath would soon turn white.
As I entered the bookstore, I noticed Shiori Yomiuri already wandering around the forest of bookshelves. Our eyes met, and I bowed before heading toward the women’s dressing room.
Yomiuri followed me in and said, “Good morning, Saki!”
“Good afternoon…”
For some reason, Yomiuri always greeted me as if it were morning. The sun was about to set. She didn’t seem to care how I responded, so maybe it was just a habit.
“Saki, our first order of business today is replenishing the bookshelves.”
“Okay.”
Together with Yomiuri and Asamura, who arrived five minutes before our shift, I worked hard filling up the shelves.
After a while, it was time for a break, and the three of us headed into the back office.
Yomiuri was as fond of Asamura as ever, and she’d been teasing him and joking around since we started. It seemed he now owed her candy and would have to bring some in the following day.
Maybe I ought to try that, too—saying “trick or treat” to Asamura. No, what am I thinking? That isn’t like me.
The subject of our friendly chat shifted to Halloween. Yomiuri said she’d be dressing up and going out on the town with her college friends after work the following day.
Asamura seemed impressed by her bold plans.
Apparently, her ethics instructor would be joining her for the festivities—Associate Professor Kudou.
The mention of her name brought back memories of the open campus at Yomiuri’s college, and the fatigue I felt back then showed clearly on my face. Yomiuri said she was the most brilliant person in the department and as quick-witted as the devil. As quick-witted as the devil—that was certainly an apt description.
To me, she seemed like a nuisance. She was an upsetting person who tired me out more quickly than anyone else. I wasn’t much good at talking to strangers to begin with—there were few people I could relax and chat with like I could with Asamura.
“Well, I suppose she ought to tone it down a little, or we’ll lose applicants to the college.”
That was how Yomiuri described the associate professor’s teasing behavior, and she was absolutely right. If you started engaging in a merciless war of words with everyone you met, it only made sense that people would start avoiding you. And the way she argued was so arbitrary and self-serving, it felt like she was only saying things to observe how people reacted. It was like she was putting live humans through some kind of destructive testing.
I, too, wished she would learn a little discretion and common sense.
But then, without realizing it, I mumbled, “Not necessarily.”
Talking to her was the first time I’d ever felt like I was activating every part of my brain’s circuitry, pushing it almost to burnout. It had exhausted me, sure, but that didn’t mean…
She’d said she was a researcher and that all she did was live. Since she doubled down and insisted on that, those around her had no choice but to accept or reject her. Maybe she was just clumsy, and that was the only way she knew how to do things.
I didn’t hate people like that. After all, I was the same.
Asamura finished up his break first and left the office. After watching him go, Yomiuri turned to me. “By the way, have you resolved yourself to come to work in costume tomorrow?”
“That again?”
The last time our shifts overlapped, Yomiuri asked me to come to work in a costume on Halloween day.
“I want to see you wearing cat ears. It would be so cute. Such good eye candy.”
“Why do I have to provide eye candy for you?”
“I’ll teach you how to dress up. You can even go out with us after work if you like.”
Had she forgotten that I was still in high school?
“Don’t worry; they have nonalcoholic beer where we’re going since some college students are underage. Professor Kudou will be with us, so rest assured we’ll be obeying the letter of the law.”
“I think Professor Kudou is the one I trust the least.”
Yomiuri flashed me a wry smile. “She really went overboard playing with you, didn’t she? But I want to play with you, too. Tell you what. I’ll teach you how to apply makeup and what brands of cosmetics are good. You’re interested in things like that, aren’t you?”
To tell the truth, I found that idea quite persuasive. I was using the time when I wasn’t studying to practice makeup and fashion, but a high school student like me lacked hands-on experience. If adult women were expected to wear makeup when out in society, then high school students, who are training to join them, should have more opportunities to study it. Actually, scratch that. I didn’t need to make things so complicated.
In the end, I was interested. That was the important part.
“Hey! Are you biting yet?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“Hmm. I’m sure we could find some other useful opportunities to trade ideas. Saki, have you ever been to a nail salon? I bet you’ve never gone to a spa by yourself.”
“I don’t have that kind of money.”
“But it can’t hurt to learn about what’s out there or about what kind of meals a licensed nutritionist puts together, for example. It gets hard to lose weight as you get older, you know. Are you sure you aren’t putting on some pounds, Saki?”
“…Do you usually talk to your friends about stuff like that?”
“My mind overheats from reading academic papers all the time, so sure, I talk about girl stuff to relax. I’m serious.”
“I’ve never done it, so I wouldn’t know.”
“Then let’s give it a try. It can’t hurt to learn how to draw the eye with fashion or psychologically accurate methods for dressing to attract the opposite sex. Learn how to look cool and cute, you know?”
“Like, ‘Know your enemy, know yourself’?”
“That’s it.”
“I’m interested, but I’m afraid I can’t go. My parents would worry.”
“So you say, but I bet you’re actually going on a date with Asamura.”
“I—I am not!”
Yomiuri grinned.
That night, I finished my homework and took a bath, then got into bed.
I pulled back my blanket and slipped inside. My body shivered at the coldness of the sheets, and I quickly pulled the covers up to my neck.
Maybe it was about time I switched to winter bedding. After checking the time on my alarm, I turned off the light and closed my eyes. Just before falling asleep, I suddenly remembered a certain Halloween from my childhood. I must have been in third or fourth grade.
Mom had promised me we’d have a Halloween party, but she couldn’t take time off work, and it didn’t happen. My father also went out and didn’t come back all night.
I was at home by myself. Feeling lonely, I sat in the dark and lit the candle Mom had bought for our Halloween party.
We were poor at the time, and our home was small. Our dining room was only seven and a half square meters, with a low table set in the middle. I’d placed the pumpkin-shaped candleholder with its orange candle in the center of the table. I was only a grade-schooler, and after lighting the flame with a match, I sat and stared at it in a daze.
I thought of the story of the little match girl I’d recently read and started fantasizing. I saw a mother sitting at the table with a kind-looking father (I gave him the face of an actor from a TV drama I was watching at the time). On the table was a big cake topped with lots of cream.
Because I was just a child, I think my Halloween fantasy had a lot of Christmas mixed in. I remember a big reindeer talking to me. In the fantasy, I was very chatty and went on and on about all the good things that had happened at school as my imaginary parents listened and smiled.
I spent the night daydreaming about this scenario I knew was impossible, and then I fell asleep.
I awoke to my mom shaking me. It was already morning, and she scolded me for falling asleep before blowing out the candle. Then she apologized for leaving me home alone and hugged me.
As I lay in bed now, I imagined how tough Mom must have had it back then.
The inside of the blanket warmed up, and I was slowly pulled into the vortex of sleep.
I could still remember the pale light of that Halloween candle. It had been a symbol of my loneliness.
I thought about the pumpkin-shaped candlestand and wondered if they still sold anything like it as my consciousness faded to black.