“So, did that program have a name?” Toriko asked.
“I was calling it SKM.”
“What’s that short for?”
“It’s very on the nose. Spam Kwaidan Maker.”
“What an awful name! The acronym sounds like ‘scum’ too.”
Kozakura laughed at Toriko’s criticism. “Okay. Fair enough, the name was more fitting for its original purpose, but it doesn’t really suit it anymore.”
“That’s right,” I interjected. “Please give it a cool name.”
“I’m terrible at coming up with names. Got any ideas, Sorawo-chan?”
Because I’d spoken up, she threw the task back to me. I hurriedly tried to come up with one.
“Uh... Let me think... How about...Kaidancraft?” I spat out the name I came up with on the spur of the moment.
Kozakura and Toriko both looked mystified by it.
“What’s that mean?” asked Kozakura.
Toriko, who knew my interests, soon guessed, “Is that the ‘craft’ from Minecraft?”
“Yep, that’s the one. Um, do you know Minecraft, Kozakura-san?”
“I know it, yeah.”
“The maps in that game are procedurally generated, right? The world is created and expands as the player explores... So, the name came to me by association... I mean, since your program is actually crafting ghost stories, or kaidan...”
“Ohh, I get it. Fine, that’ll work.”
Kozakura accepted my faltering explanation without objection. She probably wasn’t the type to get hung up on names.
The desire to do something similar to Minecraft, building a base, and then exploring and expanding our map—that had been part of my motivation when it came to the Otherside. Even I thought it was childish, so I still felt a little embarrassed even after she accepted my suggestion so easily.
“The automatic ghost story space mapping through natural language processing program, Kaidancraft. Yeah, sounds okay to me.”
“I dunno... On second thought, it’s kinda lame,” I said. “Let’s not go with it.”
“Why not? Sounding a little lame is just right for this kind of thing.”
“Wah, but...”
“It’s funny seeing the awkward look on your face, Sorawo-chan, so I’m sticking with it.”
“What kind of reason is that...?”
I must have looked really exasperated, because Kozakura let out a cheerful laugh.
Kozakura needed to prepare dinner for Kasumi, so we decided to head home before sunset. She invited us to stay and eat with them, but we decided we’d abstain today.
Kozakura saw us off at the front door. Kasumi had vanished off somewhere, and didn’t show back up. Turning to look back as we were about to leave, I said, “Kozakura-san.”
“Hm?”
“Is it okay if we come again?”
“Huh? Why’re you asking now?” she answered grumpily. “It’s a year late for that. Why are you suddenly showing restraint now that I’ve taken in Kasumi? It’s not like you.”
Seeing me fall silent, Kozakura grinned.
“You can do whatever you want. I’m used to it at this point.”
“Was that good enough?” I asked Toriko on the way back to the station.
“What do you mean?”
“For reporting our status to Kozakura. That was our goal today, right? But the report ended quickly, and her response was disinterested.”
“It’s fine. The important thing is that we talked about it.”
“I don’t get it... Saying that we’re ‘going out’ sounds super vague, and yet by sharing that information we’re able to build a social consensus around it. It really makes no sense.”
“You keep on saying that stuff.”
“Sorry for being so stubborn.”
“The more important thing, Sorawo, is are you okay?”
“How so?”
“You seemed like you were suffering.”
Toriko apparently saw right through me. I let out a sigh, then confessed.
“I don’t really understand it myself. But seeing that Kozakura’s house had become a ‘home’ shook me up...”
I told her about it. The intense feeling of loneliness I’d felt in Kozakura’s kitchen. The isolation I’d felt when Kozakura talked about Kasumi’s education.
Toriko listened without saying a word, then suddenly stopped and hugged me.
“Egh,” I squealed.
“...”
“Wh-What? We’re outside, you know? Outside.”
While I was busy worrying that people could see, Toriko asked, “Do you want kids?”
I had to at least answer the question. Even I could tell that, for Toriko, who saw our relationship as something adjacent to a romantic relationship or marriage, the question was a serious one.
That wasn’t going to change my answer, though.
“Not in the slightest... Sorry...”
“Yeah, I figured.”
“Do you, Toriko?”
“Hrmm...” Toriko groaned as she moved away from me. “I dunno anymore.”
“Is that my fault?”
“You’re definitely the one who gave me cause to reconsider,” she said as she started walking again and gestured for me to do the same. “I always had this vague idea, even as a child, that someday I would get together with the person I loved, and we’d adopt a kid and raise them together. I like kids, and it felt natural to me to do that.”
“Yeah.”
For someone with Toriko’s background, maybe that made sense.
“But then you went and said you hate kids, Sorawo. I panicked a bit. Like, if a hardened criminal said they hated kids, I’d get it. But a nice girl like you? It didn’t make sense to me.”
“Isn’t it pretty harsh, saying you’d get it if a criminal said it?”
“Maybe it is. Sorry.”
“But I don’t think I said anything that strange. I mean, kids are noisy, and stupid. There’s not much to like about them.”
“Ahh...” Toriko gazed up to the heavens, unsure what to say.
“Like I told you before, I don’t utterly despise them or anything. I just don’t want them any closer to me than they have to be.”
“Yeah, that’s what I don’t get... Sorawo, you’re good around Kasumi. You don’t mistreat her.”
“I wouldn’t do that, obviously.”
“And when we went looking for her in the interstitial space at DS Research, you were really nice to her there too. Based on your actual behavior, your own statement that you ‘hate kids’ just doesn’t ring true for me, you know? Maybe you just convinced yourself you do?”
“It feels kind of off to me as well. If I’ve been acting the right way in front of Kasumi, that’s great and all, but...I’ve been thinking recently, maybe my kindness is external in nature.”
“External?”
“Your kindness is like, y’know, it comes from your soul. It looks to me like you act that way because it’s second nature to you, and you believe from the bottom of your heart that you’re doing the right thing. But in my case, I think my kindness is learned, and I’ve been taught what the appropriate response is for a given situation.”
“Is there really inborn and learned kindness...?”
“If there’s one more thing I can say on the subject, it’s that I reject the notion of family... It may have been that I didn’t like how Kozakura and Kasumi had become a family.”
Toriko cocked her head to the side at this.
“Hrmm?”
“What?”
“Nah, if I say it, we’ll probably get into a fight...”
“What is it? Tell me.”
Toriko gave me a strange look, then seemed to make up her mind. “It’s not that you didn’t like that they had become a ‘family,’ it’s that you’re afraid Kasumi is going to take Kozakura away from you, don’t you think?”
“Hm...?” It took several seconds for the meaning of what she’d just said to sink in. “Do you mean...”
The blood rushed to my head. Not out of anger, but embarrassment.
“I told you it’d cause a fight...”
“I’m...not going to fight with you over it, but...” My face was hot. I couldn’t look Toriko in the eye. “Basically, I was looking for a ‘mother’ in Kozakura? Is that what you’re saying?”
“I didn’t take it that far! You just wanted, um...an older woman who’d indulge you...”
“Augh, enough. You’ve said enough already. Spare me.”
I covered my face with both hands and blocked out what Toriko was saying.
“I didn’t expect it to be such a body blow.”
“...”
“Did I hit the nail on the head?”
“I never even realized it myself...” I groaned, unable to recover from the damage. “Was I that obvious?”
“Nah, not really. Besides...it’s not like I don’t understand the feeling.”
“...”
Come to think of it, Toriko lost her parents too.
Trying to pull myself back together, I lowered the hands covering my face.
“Ugh... This is the worst. And my lack of self-awareness about it makes it all the more humiliating.”
“Sorry.”
“There’s no need to apologize, though.” I let out a long sigh. “What kind of expression am I supposed to make the next time we meet?”
“I don’t think you need to make any kind of face. Just act normal.”
“Okay. I’ll try to see Kozakura as a woman from now on.”
“Hey, I kinda don’t like how you worded that. This is the worst!”