We left our apartment building, crossed the parking lot and the little grassy park in the complex, and came out onto the road. About fifty yards down the road was a residential neighborhood, and past that was the shopping arcade, a long street lined with shops that was covered by a roof. Inside, you could buy produce, fish, clothes, flowers, Chinese food, and various other things each at their own little shop.
“This is our neighborhood shopping area. You can get most stuff here,” I told Kei.
He peered around like he’d never seen a shopping arcade before. Maybe he doesn’t usually get to do this kind of thing.
“Oh, hello, Asuka. Running an errand for your father?” the fish guy asked as we passed. He always wore the same blue rubber apron and smelled like the sea.
“Yup. Sorry to tell you we’re having oden today.”
“Say it ain’t so! …Hey, is that kid behind you with you?”
“Yeah, he’s my cousin Kei. He just moved in with us, so you might be seeing him around.”
Kei bowed his head silently. Wish he was a little friendlier. On the other hand, if he was like, “Hiya!” I might pass out from shock.
I said good-bye to the fish guy and kept walking.
“We just passed a produce stall. You’re not going to buy anything?” Kei asked.
“No, we’ve got a lot to get today, so I figured we’d go to the supermarket. Easier, right?”
“Oh, I guess that makes sense…”
He genuinely may have never been shopping before. The more I learn about this guy, the weirder he gets.
“Here’s the supermarket,” I said.
It was on the far side of the shopping arcade, next to the train station, with a sign featuring the company’s trademark green leaf. When Kei and I stepped inside, the store was a little crowded. Well, it was the afternoon.
“You carry the basket,” I told him.
“What basket?” He cocked his head.
“…Have you seriously never been to a supermarket before?”
“Not in the past few years.”
“What do you guys eat?”
“Bentos from the convenience store and stuff from the deli. Dad can’t cook…”
True enough, I couldn’t remember ever seeing Uncle K cook.
“No wonder you never have any energy. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!”
“I take vitamins.”
That’s not the point! The point is, it’s important to eat tasty food. My dad can cook anything, so I never have to worry about that.
By the way, Kei’s mom passed away, too. When he and I were little, our moms went on a trip together overseas and got in a car accident.
Come to think of it, that’s when Kei and I kinda stopped talking to each other. Maybe it was because it reminded us too much of our moms. Although these days, it’s the opposite—I wish I could remember her more.
“Why are you spacing out?” Kei asked, scrunching his eyebrows at me.
“No reason. Anyway, let’s get this done. First, we need daikon for 98 yen.”
Looking at my list, I tossed one long white radish into the basket.
“Next, two blocks of konjac for 205 yen, one pack of fish cakes for twenty percent off 210, one pack of tofu balls for ten percent off 148, oh, and of course, we need the other kind of fish cake. Two of those for 218. Hey, look, the deep-fried tofu is on sale for 88! Lucky me, I’ll buy two. Shirataki noodles for 98, eggs for 188, kelp for 298… Boy, that sure is expensive.”
I tossed everything into the basket. Soon, it was filled to the top. Kei switched from carrying it with one hand to two.
How could I rely on him if he thought that was heavy?
✦ ✦ ✦
“You okay?” I asked.
“Um, yeah,” he answered.
He didn’t look okay. But if he wasn’t gonna admit it, I’d let him power through.
“Right. Two boxes of aluminum foil for 598, a soap refill for 288, garbage bags for 498, pickled daikon for 128, ketchup for 178, and a can of tuna for 412. Ooh, strawberries are forty percent off 398. Let’s get two! Noodle sauce for 199, miso for ten percent off 248, chocolate cookies for 211 yen, and curry roux for two for 338 yen.”
“Hey, one of those wasn’t on the list, was it?”
Busted.
“Who cares about a few little cookies? We deserve pay for doing errands.”
“Uncle Tsuba didn’t give us permission.”
I swear, this kid. I reluctantly returned the package of cookies to the shelf.
“Let’s see, is that everything?” I asked.
“Definitely,” he said, nodding vigorously.
Wait a second…did I ever show him the list?
“How do you know?” I asked. “You didn’t check the list, did you?”
“I saw it when I took the purse from your dad.”
“You mean you memorized it after one glance?!”
He couldn’t have caught it for more than a few seconds.
“I only need one glance to memorize something that short,” he said, like that was normal.
And he was treating me like a rare animal!
“We have everything, so let’s go pay,” he said, walking toward the register.
“Hey, wait!” I said, trailing after him.
There were lines at all the registers, so we joined the shortest one.
“Hold the basket, okay?” he asked.
“Sure, why? Too heavy for ya?”
“No,” he said, taking the purse from his pocket. Without pausing, he pulled out one five-thousand-yen bill and eight coins.
“But we don’t know the total yet,” I said.
“I do. I calculated it already.”
He did? But there were discounts, and we were talking!
“So how much is it?” I asked.
“4,921 yen.”
He sounded super confident—or maybe more surprised that I didn’t know.
The person ahead of us finished at the register, and it was our turn. I put the basket on the counter.
“Hello,” said the lady at the cash register. Before she could finish, Kei put the money down, too.
She raised an eyebrow at him before starting to scan the food. As the scanner beeped, the machine added up the prices.
“…That will be 4,921 yen,” she said.
On the nose!
Did he really add it all in his head?
The checkout lady counted the money and glanced at Kei with surprise. Me, too, checkout lady. Mental math with discounts is complicated. I’d probably give up after three items.
Kei took the receipt calmly. Was he a child prodigy or something?
At the very least, he was more than your average antisocial kid.
When we got home, Dad was pacing back and forth in the living room. Isn’t that what stressed-out bears at the zoo do?
“What are you doing, Dad?”
“Oh, Asuka, you came back!”
“Of course I did. I just went to get groceries.”
“But you were angry when you left. I thought you’d stay out for a while…”
Oh yeah. I was so surprised about Kei, I’d forgotten our argument.
“Sorry. I wasn’t mad,” I said.
“Really? Well, that’s good…”
Dad is a real drill sergeant when I’m training, but otherwise, he’s a softy. Even for me, his daughter, this difference can be hard to deal with.
“Anyway, we got all the groceries, so now can we have our assignment?” I asked, holding out my hand to him.
“Sure. Here it is.”
He placed two folded pieces of paper—bigger than the ones with the shopping list—in my palm.
“It’s written on here?” I asked.
This time is for real, I thought as I unfolded the paper.
It said, Please call me if you find my cat Mita. My phone number is…
There was a photo of a brown cat on the top half of the paper. I didn’t recognize it, but it looked smug and pampered, and who calls their cat Mita anyway…? Wait a second!
“H-hey, Asuka, are you okay? You’re turning red. Do you have a fever?”
“No, I’m angry! What is the meaning of this? You gave me a lost-cat flyer!!”
“I want you to find the cat.”
“What kind of assignment is that?!” I glared at him. This had to be some kind of joke.
“D-don’t take this the wrong way, but, well, how can you do Red’s work if you can’t even find a cat? Think of it as a warm-up,” he said.
A warm-up, huh? He wasn’t trying to double-cross me, was he?
“After you do this,” he continued, “I’ll give you a certified robbery job.”
“Promise?”
“Promise. Have I ever lied to you?”
“You didn’t tell me about Red.”
“Ouch. I guess you have a point…,” he mumbled, looking away.
“All right, I’ll hunt down the cat. But this is your last chance,” I said.
I looked back at Kei. His face was nearly blank, but I deduced he was thinking, I guess I should go with you.
Was I starting to learn to read his expressions?
Were we starting to work together as Red?