“Gosh, I’m sorry,” said Kazuhiko. “That was the only hold I knew…”
In his teens, Kazuhiko had impulsively bought an air gun. He’d always held it using that “cup and saucer” method when playing with his friends, thinking that was the right way to do it. Now he felt a little embarrassed.
Itou and the others smiled at him and reassured him that he’d done great, especially since he hadn’t been given detailed instructions on handling the gun. What stung Kazuhiko the most, though, was that he had smugly told the manga artist before the shoot that he had experience with firearms.
“You’re surprisingly knowledgeable about guns, Chisato,” he said, changing the focus of the conversation away from himself.
“Ha-ha-ha!” Chisato’s laughter sounded somehow forced. “I just…watch a lot of movies, I guess!”
Was she self-conscious, or was it a subject she didn’t want to discuss for some reason? Kazuhiko couldn’t tell.
“You really are a movie buff, Chisato,” said Itou. “Old or new, if it’s action, you know it.”
Chisato scratched the scruff of her neck bashfully.
“I wouldn’t go so far as to call myself a movie buff. I just watch whatever seems fun. Like the other day, I bought the Blu-ray box set of the Alien series.”
Kazuhiko grunted appreciatively. These days, most people streamed movies instead of buying physical copies—only collectors did that. And teenage movie collectors were a rarity. He asked Chisato about her motivation for buying Blu-rays.
“Hmm, how to explain? The picture and sound quality are better, and you know it won’t suddenly disappear like when a movie’s taken off streaming… But the biggest reason for me is the feeling that I actually own the movie. Like, I’m holding this famous movie right in my hands! Other than that… It makes it easier to recommend movies to friends! Like, here, watch this, it’s awesome! With streaming, if your friend’s signed up for a service that doesn’t have that movie, it’s not like they’ll get a new subscription just to check it out, you know?”
Takina shot Chisato a tired look.
“She’s been forcing me to borrow piles of Blu-rays.”
“They’re the very best movies, carefully selected by me! You like them, right?”
“I wish I hadn’t wasted my time taking notes, thinking at first you were making me watch those movies for work.”
That explained why the girls knew so much about guns, thought Kazuhiko. Chisato was a serious movie buff, and Takina learned about guns from all the movies Chisato forced her to watch. Cinephiles were known for enthusiastically recommending movies to their friends, and Chisato was no exception.
“Every now and again, Chisato tries to dump a bag of ‘must-see’ movies on me. Can’t you give it up already, Chisato?”
“Don’t be so mean! I don’t just ‘dump’ random movies on you. They’re super fun, I promise!”
People who liked to recommend movies could generally be divided into a few categories. Chisato seemed to be in the “I liked it, so you watch it too!” category. She wanted her friends to see the movies she liked best so that they could enjoy talking about them together.
Kazuhiko used to have a similar hobby when he was in college. He’d go to video rental stores, which were going out of business fast at the time, and search for ultra-niche movies to show off to his friends as his “cool discoveries.”
It was something of an embarrassing memory to him. On careful introspection, he hadn’t changed much since then. Not so long ago, he’d wanted to boast about “discovering” Café LycoReco, to be the first to write about it and make it popular.
“Why don’t you take Takina with you to see the movies in a theater or take her home with you for a movie night, lock the door, and refuse to let her out until the last credits roll?” suggested Itou.
Takina gave her the stink eye.
“That would greatly inconvenience me.”
“Good thinking, Ms. Itou!” said Chisato.
She crossed her arms and looked slyly at Takina.
“Takina, my friend, won’t you come over tonight?”
“We’re working tonight.”
“Aww! You’re right…”
The schoolgirl… Was her name Kana? She looked curiously at Takina and Chisato.
“You work…at night?”
“That’s right, Kana. We have a secret after-hours job!” Chisato said cockily, putting her hands on her hips.
Kazuhiko exchanged glances with Yoshiharu. They read from each other’s expressions that they had the same thought about what sort of “secret job” there was for young girls at night.
Chisato was remarkably well-endowed, and Takina was a classic beauty. In addition, there was no shortage of unsavory rumors about what happened at night in Kinshicho.
“Stop imagining dirty things, you two. They just do honest physical labor,” said Kurumi, walking out from the back.
The young girl looked like she’d just gotten up, even though it was well past noon.
“It’s social service. Removing trash off the streets of Japan,” she added.
Volunteering, then? But why did they have to do that at night…?
Kazuhiko cocked his head to the side.
Just then, Mika came over to the table, the last of the bunch, holding a shotgun in one hand and his walking stick in another.
“May I see? Hmm, nice. I look pretty good there.”
He didn’t really stand out in the video and pictures, looking very short behind the counter despite his height. In fact, his body was almost entirely obscured, with only the tip of his nose and his shotgun sticking out.
“Hold on…”
It suddenly occurred to Kazuhiko that it looked as if Mika was taking cover behind the counter in case his opponent shot back at him. He wasn’t acting like a confident action-movie hero like Yoshiharu, but neither did he make a rookie mistake like Kazuhiko. Mika’s acting was more down-to-earth.
Aware that it was wrong to judge people by their appearances, Kazuhiko wondered if Mika had been born and raised outside of Japan, in some country where guns were more common. That would explain how he handled the scene, wouldn’t it?
Kazuhiko’s list of Café LycoReco’s mysteries grew by one.
“I need something to keep me awake for the nighttime work. Can’t do it without the stuff, Teach.”
“Of course, Chisato. I’ll get you your fix.”
“What are you talking about…?” asked Kana.
“Just finely ground dark roast beans.”
Only then did Kazuhiko realize that the stuff Chisato needed to stay awake was an espresso.