“Man, you’re a pain in the ass,” she said. “Stop tryin’ to preach at me about every little thing I do. You’re not my mom, okay?”
“Sorry, but it’s kinda hard to ignore when you literally shoplift right in front of me,” I said—and Akira did a double take as soon as I uttered the word “shoplift.”
“Hey, don’t you talk about me like I’m some sorta criminal! That doesn’t even count as…as…shoplifting…” she said, her voice trailing off as she apparently realized her argument didn’t hold water.
“What do you even need batteries for, anyway?” I asked. “I mean, it’s not like we need our flashlights anymore…”
“To charge my phone,” she said with a scowl. “Got a portable charger that runs on batteries, and it’s small enough to fit in my pocket, so it works even in the timefreeze.”
Interesting. I did not know this. But even with a working phone, she still couldn’t get service right now, so I wondered what the hell she’d been using her phone for. But it wasn’t important right now—that was not the issue here.
“You really shouldn’t be taking things you don’t need.”
“Aw, who cares? It’s only a few batteries.”
“That’s no excuse,” I said firmly—and Akira bit her lip, faltering.
I wasn’t even the type of person with a particularly strong moral compass. For most of my life, my conflict resolution strategy had been one of pure avoidance. But I couldn’t turn a blind eye to this when Akira clearly didn’t recognize just how dangerous this path she was heading down could end up being.
“…There used to be this little old bookstore in my neighborhood,” I said, waxing nostalgic. “Run by this little old man with a bit of a hunchback, the owner and sole proprietor. Used to go there all the time in elementary school. The selection wasn’t the greatest, but I loved the smell of old paper that filled the place and the calming atmosphere.”
“The hell is this coming from…?” asked Akira.
“The old man ended up having to shut the place down. Lost too much money on stolen inventory,” I said—and Akira’s cheek twitched. “Apparently, some kids at the local junior high made a habit of going there whenever they wanted free stuff… They knew the old man had a bad leg, and he couldn’t afford to hire any part-timers to help out. So there was nothing he could really do to stop it whenever they came rushing in.”
I watched as Akira slowly grew more uncomfortable.
“And since it was an independent bookstore, the cost of even a single stolen volume of manga came right out of the old man’s pocket. Not that convenience stores and supermarkets don’t have to pay to stock their shelves too, obviously—even if bigger corporations can handle a little bit of shrink. But I hear even those end up shutting down a lot of the time due to theft, especially in areas where there’s less regular business to make up for the loss… So what I’m saying is, even if we need to steal food and water to survive, we should really keep it to the bare necessities since we can’t—”
“Oh, just shut up already!” Akira shouted, glaring daggers at me. She’d finally lost her temper. “What gives you the right to lecture me about this stuff, huh?! Besides, you’re talkin’ an awful lot about how much harm and trouble me stealing is gonna cause for people, but that’s only if time decides to start moving again! If things stay frozen like this forever, then who the hell cares what I do?! It won’t be any loss to the people I’m taking from, or to you!”
“I mean…yes, technically, that would be a different story.”
If time stayed frozen like this forever… This was a thought I’d been having for a while now, but I was deliberately trying not to voice it for fear that it might sap away my willpower to do much of anything, let alone complete this journey. Although I was enjoying the silence and isolation, it was a distressing worst-case scenario that I was loath to even imagine. And one I most certainly hadn’t imagined Akira casually tossing out for no other reason than to justify her own thievery.
I went quiet, unable to think of anything I could say to persuade her otherwise. Akira didn’t look as though she felt she’d won the argument either; she bit her lip and looked down at the ground. I assumed she was enduring the recoil of the foreboding words she’d resorted to just now.
“…Just leave me alone, all right?” she said, then walked out of the restaurant.
I didn’t feel like I’d said anything harsh or out of line. And yet, I still felt bad—like the sort of guilty feeling you got when you had to lay out to a child exactly what it was they did wrong. I couldn’t help but wonder in hindsight if there’d been a better way I could have worded things.
It was another three hours before Akira came back to the restaurant. I wasn’t entirely sure she would, to be honest, even though she’d left her belongings there.
“So hey, um…” I started, knowing full well that we needed to talk this out.
I still had no intention of condoning her actions, but I also knew I could have handled the situation a bit more tactfully myself. And she did have a point in that it would be awfully tiresome—not to mention unhealthy—to just eat cheap processed foods from mini-marts for every single meal, which couldn’t be good for our morale. Which was why my current plan was to suggest that we treat ourselves to a slightly more luxurious meal once every few days. I hoped this could be an agreeable compromise because it felt like the most constructive policy for us both.
“Go to hell.”