Chapter 6:
Summer18
IN THE MIRROR, high school Shima-chan looked the same as ever:
“Sleepy.”
My eyes were so droopy, it was hard to tell if they were open at all. Perhaps I was meant to feel shame that I presented myself to the world like this on a regular basis. Did Adachi ever judge me for it?
She never lashed out at me; she only ever touched me with trepidation. Well, except for whenever the trepidation meter maxed out—then she’d explode and tackle me. And she was bigger than me, so I had to brace myself if I wanted to catch her. Was I really that scary, though? Personally, I felt I was a lot friendlier than junior high Shima-chan ever was. Love’s just complicated, I guess.
On a whim, my gaze drifted to the chirping of the cicadas that seemed to rise up from the back of my neck, as if on tiptoe, trying to peek over the wall. This was the final summer break of my high school career, and if I tried to count my remaining time on my fingers, I’d end up graduating before I was done.
Funny—part of me thought that I’d be in high school forever, that these days would never end. This was a sentiment I’d never felt in junior high, and it was a weird misapprehension to have. Perhaps it was proof of just how fulfilled my life was these days.
“So maybe try to look like you’re having fun.”
I squished my face all around and made myself laugh, then walked away from the bathroom sink. On my way back to my bedroom, my parched throat started to bother me, so I changed course to the kitchen instead—and just as I turned, a streak of light shot over the top of my head.
“I sense Shimamura-san’s presence.”
“The rest of me is here, too, you know.”
I snatched the gremlin that had suddenly manifested on my head and lightly flung her into the air. When she turned and landed gracefully on her feet, I saw that she was dressed as a penguin. That was all well and good, but she was wearing a SHAVED ICE banner, like the kind a cafe would display out front, across her tummy.
“What’s with that?”
“Is it hoity-toity?”
“Hmmm…” I prodded her stomach as she thrust it out proudly in my direction. “Fancy-schmancy.” I guess.
“Yaaay!”
She seemed happy, so I let it go. Together, the fancy penguin and I headed for the kitchen.
“It appears Mama-san is not here.”
“Yeah, she’s usually at the gym around this time.”
“Good to know,” Yashiro chuckled behind her beak.
Tangentially related, I always felt like she peeked out from the wrong part of the animal’s face. It looked like she was being swallowed whole. Then again, I didn’t exactly have a better suggestion. For that matter, where did she keep getting these onesie pajamas, anyway? I realized recently that her choice of animals was a perfect match for the ones found in my sister’s encyclopedias, but beyond that, I couldn’t begin to fathom the inner workings of an alien mind.
The instant I opened the fridge, the penguin zoomed up to take a look, and I had to physically stop her from getting in. Then my sister walked into the kitchen, her exposed skin now sun-kissed brown with little pale tan lines peeking out from under her sleeves.
“Well, if it isn’t Little!” The penguin turned and waddled over to greet her.
“Hi, Yachi. I see you’re…um…Happy Feet today.”
“Am I hoity-toity?”
“What’s that?”
“She doesn’t know! Ha ha ha!”
“Why do you gotta be rude about it?!”
As my sister amused herself by tugging Yashiro’s cheeks in all directions, I poured myself some barley tea. Instead of heading back to my room, I sat down at the table and watched the kids at play. Then I got back to my feet, poured two more cups of tea, and handed them over. “Here.”
“Whoa. Nee-chan’s actually being considerate for once.”
“Get that nose out of the air.” I pinched (what I imagined to be) her haughtily raised nose and made her squeal.
“Much obliged,” the penguin replied as she took her cup. Her word choice was jarringly self-serious compared to the dopey grin on her face.
“You know, I’ve always wondered: where do you learn that stuff?”
“From watching the television with Papa-san, of course.”
“Ugh, you watch too much TV…”
These days I’d often spot her in the living room at night, sitting in front of the TV next to my father. Evidently he’d gotten used to having her around—so much so that whenever he brought home treats, he’d always have an extra for her. And just the other day he was happily telling me: “Apparently, she’s an alien! First one I’ve ever seen.” All I could say to that was “No kidding.”
Put nicely, the Shimamura family was open-minded; or, less charitably, none of us cared too much. And that included me.
“What do you wanna do today?”
“I humbly request a sweetie treatie.”
Based on her word choice, I could feel my mother’s influence at work.
“If you ask really nicely, Nee-chan, we could even let you join us.”
“Look here, kid, I’m in super study mode right now. I’ve got colleges to apply to.”
No joke—I was genuinely taking this pretty seriously. After I started my third year of high school, I thought about it offhandedly and decided I’d pursue higher education. And when I asked my parents if they were cool with it, they said yes.
“Nee-chan, are you really going to…college?” my sister asked, staring at the floor.
“That’s the plan.” Assuming I get accepted.