To: Kitamura Yuusaku-sama.
From: Aisaka Taiga.
“Th-this…is…”
It was seven at night. Yasuko had left early to accompany a customer to her job, so Ryuuji was eating a simple dinner alone. Finally, he had come to understand the meaning of the mysterious and now vaguely-remembered incident that happened earlier that day after school.
When he had gone back to his four-and-a-half tatami room to finish his homework, he opened his bag to take out his textbook and notebook—and that was when he had found it.
A light pink envelope. Pieces of silver foil were incorporated into the pulpy paper, shaped like cherry blossom petals. They seemed to flutter as they scattered through the paper, creating a texture like that of washi paper.
To Kitamura Yuusaku-sama, it was addressed.
He flipped it over. From Aisaka Taiga, it said. To put this very politely, if this letter causes you trouble, please just throw it away.
It was written in the faint blue ink of a nearly depleted pen.
No matter how he looked at it, this wasn’t just a regular letter. It wasn’t the class newsletter, and it didn’t seem like a money envelope for repayment, either.
“This is…a love letter…!”
He was shocked. He had stumbled into something terrible.
Letting curiosity get the best of him was unthinkable, but his eyes narrowed mercilessly as he looked at the envelope. Of course, he wasn’t angry—just extremely flustered.
Long story short, it seemed the Palmtop Tiger had gotten the wrong bag. She had mistaken his bag for Kitamura’s and snuck this thing inside. That was why she had become so desperate and tried to steal it back.
“You put this in accidentally, didn’t you?” he said aloud, trying to practice what he might say to her, acting as though nothing was up. “I didn’t look inside, so I can’t imagine what’s in it. Ahhh well—here, you can have it back…” He shook his head. “Nope. That won’t work.”
He instantly snapped back to reality. That definitely wouldn’t work. This was terrible. There was no way anyone would be fooled with a line like that. But he couldn’t think of anything better. The next day, he’d have to hand the thing over to Aisaka quickly and casually with that line.
This is definitely a love letter, but I myself don’t think it’s a love letter. So, don’t go thinking that I know a secret about you, or anything inconvenient like that, he’d say. Pretty far-fetched, but he’d try something along those lines. There was no other way. That was the one and only way to do it that wouldn’t cause Aisaka embarrassment, and that wouldn’t hurt his own pride or cause him any distress.
Ryuuji forced himself to believe it and started to put that dangerous thing back into his bag. That was when it happened.
“Eeeep…”
His heart constricted and jumped.
The envelope, held so carefully in the palm of his hand to keep from getting it dirty or damaged, started to unseal itself right before his eyes. Stop it, don’t open! he shouted a silent prayer. But it seemed that part of the already weak adhesive had bent itself out of shape and was peeling off.
He forgot everything but how to breathe. Soon, the envelope opened completely, there in Ryuuji’s hand.
Just like that, a letter-snooping miscreant was born.
“N-no… No, you’ve got it all wrong, I didn’t see anything! That’s right, I’ll reseal it! If I do that, she won’t find out!”
“That’s right!” Inko-chan gave him a shout of encouragement from the living room, as Ryuuji ransacked his drawers looking for glue. He finally found some and was all set to restore the envelope. He wouldn’t leave any evidence behind, but…
“…H-huh?”
In spite of himself, his busy hands stopped.
The envelope had nothing in it. With some hesitation, he opened the envelope again, peeked inside, and held it to the light for confirmation. There really was nothing in it. It was empty.
What a relief.
Feeling spent, Ryuuji involuntarily slumped across his desk. Don’t just scare someone like that—what a klutz.
Aisaka Taiga. You’re the one who’s a moron.
Hiding in a completely obvious place, somersaulting out into the open, getting the wrong bag, sneezing and falling down while trying to steal it, and—on top of all that—forgetting to put the letter into the envelope. Even for a klutz, that was just too much.
Even after pulling himself together, Ryuuji didn’t have the heart to continue the idiotic operation of regluing an empty envelope.
The next day, when he returned it to Aisaka, could he really pretend to be indifferent? It might be fine, as long as he didn’t burst out in laughter over the ridiculous details of this story, but in the unlikely event that he did do something like that, this might be the time he really did get eaten by the Palmtop Tiger.
Nevertheless, he decided to finish regluing the envelope.
The strange night wore on—until two in the morning.
Ryuuji suddenly woke up. He opened his eyes wide in a daze.
He felt as though he’d been having a dream, but…the clock indicated it was the dead of night. He scratched vigorously at his belly. He always slept like a baby until morning—why had he woken up at such an odd time? Ryuuji hadn’t the faintest idea.
It may have been because he slept with just a t-shirt and his underwear, but he felt a bit chilly. It was the middle of April, but apparently, he had fallen asleep with the window open. Nothing lay beyond the window but the wall of that upper-class condominium—so lately, his vigilance had waned. There wasn’t anything around worth stealing, but he reached out his arm and closed the window anyway, making sure to properly lock it.
He got up from his bed, an old mail-order purchase. Still feeling unsettled, he stifled a lethargic yawn. Maybe a bad dream was to blame, but his heart was pounding. The atmosphere felt inexplicably strange, almost as if he were being watched.
“I have a bad feeling…” he muttered. Wobbly, he stepped onto the tatami mats and checked his phone to make sure nothing had happened to Yasuko. But there was nothing there to speak of, not even a text from the bar. He took a breath. I guess it was nothing.
Since he was already up, he headed barefoot to the restroom, and then on toward the cold wooden floor of the kitchen.
But in that instant…
“Huhh?!”
He felt a tingle run down his neck. Reflexively, he turned around—and completely slipped on a discarded newspaper, falling down butt-first. BAM! Butt, meet floor. The impact ran from his waist to his head, all the air momentarily knocked out of him.
“…!”
He couldn’t even get out a scream.
With tremendous force, something careened down through the air, right where Ryuuji’s head had just been. After a powerful swing and miss, it struck the floor with a foreboding clamor, just beside Ryuuji’s body.
“Tsk…tsk…tsk.”
An ominous human silhouette hovered in the pitch-black, two-bedroom apartment. It took aim at Ryuuji, once again swinging that rod-shaped object at him in a wide arc. He was under attack.
He didn’t understand why, though. He wanted it to be a dream. Someone help!
Still unable to make a sound, Ryuuji desperately rolled away for dear life. He needed light, or the police, or the landlady. His mind went blank. He couldn’t think. Scared stiff, he could do nothing but run away, nothing but crawl to the front entrance. But…
“HIYAHHHHH!”
Now he was done for. His assailant pointed the murder weapon at the top of his head and then struck. Without even knowing what was happening, in the spur of the moment, he reached out with both hands and…
“Ah…? I-I did it…!”
Somehow, he stopped the blow precisely with his bare hands. Well, he probably hadn’t been precise about it, but through sheer luck, he had the murder weapon firmly grasped between his palms.
“Ugh!”
The perpetrator pushed that weapon forcefully downwards. Ryuuji used all his strength to try and force it back. As they waged their silent test of strength, the figure wavered in the darkness. A small stature, an outline engulfed in long hair—of course, he thought, somewhere in the back of his mind. He had probably suspected who it was from the very beginning.
Gritting his teeth, toughing through it, Ryuuji came to a strange understanding. Of course—of course—who else would do something this messed up?
But at the very moment he figured out who the perpetrator was—Aah! I can’t do it anymore!—both of his shaking hands lost all sensation. The stiff muscles in the back of his neck also strained to their limits.
“…Hah… Ahhh…”
HACHOO!
His opponent lost balance for an instant.
At the moment of that strange-sounding sneeze, the weight on him suddenly, softly disappeared. His opponent succumbed to Ryuuji’s strength, and he pushed back, staggering wildly.
“Ah! Wah!” his opponent quietly exclaimed, then tottered, tripped, and landed on the bed with a resounding thump. Ryuuji stood up and slammed into the wall, rushing to turn on the light switch.
“AISAKAAAAA!”
“…”
“You could at least use a tissue!”
He threw a tissue box at the Palmtop Tiger, Aisaka Taiga, who was nonchalantly wiping her nose on the bedspread.