Aria disappeared after our fight at Assault, but I had a good idea where she might have gone, and I was right. She was temporarily staying at Reki’s place. Therefore, I decided I would meet with Reki at a family restaurant to report that I was doing my job of guarding Shirayuki throughout Golden Week, but ... Reki had come with a stylish sniper rifle strapped around her, and as usual, she was taciturn, expressionless, and it was hard to discern whether she was really listening or not. And that’s why it took an excess amount of time speaking with her while confirming that she was following along every twenty seconds. After I finished explaining everything for the most part, I looked towards the clock hanging on the wall.
“Ah.”
It was almost eight o’clock. Today was the day that I promised to go see the fireworks with Shirayuki. More to the point, we were supposed to have met at seven. Crap.
Reki, sitting in her seat like some sort of ornament, noticed my perturbation and gave me a questioning look with her eyes.
“Today, Shira ... um, I’ve got some plans. I’ll be on my way if you don’t mind.” Not bothering to allow her to object, I got out of my seat, but Reki didn’t even follow me with her eyes, let alone make any protest. She just sat there in front of the straight tea she hadn’t taken a single sip of and stared at the empty space in front of her like a doll.
“...”
“... I’m. Going. Now. Okay?” I said just to be sure, and Reki nodded her head. Delivered in silence, it was a robotic nod worthy of her nickname. Now that I thought about it, as anyone could tell from looking at her, Reki didn’t have any friends, but I heard she had a few fervent fans among the guys. Apparently the eccentric bunch called her “Reki-sama” and revered her as a goddess. Well ... robot or goddess, sure enough, she was a girl lacking in human attributes. I turned away to take my leave when all of a sudden...
“Do your plans involve going out?”
... Reki posed a question with her monotone voice.
“What if they do?”
“Please be careful. These past few days, there’s been ... something sinister mixed in the winds.”
What’s that supposed to mean? I’m begging you, great goddess; speak in human tongue.
“Our school itself is what you call sinister,” was my parting remark, and leaving behind Reki, who was readjusting those giant headphones she wore, I paid my bill and left the restaurant. I thought of phoning Shirayuki, but it seemed like it would be faster to just head directly home.
So how should apologize if Shirayuki’s upset with me?
I was considerably late despite being the one who invited her to go, and quietly peeked into the living room ... whereupon my eyes grew large in astonishment at seeing how Shirayuki was dressed. She ... was outfitted in a yukata of which I had no clue where she came into possession. It was made of a trim white cloth with pink nadeshiko4 flowers in a snowflake-like pattern. The shape of the pale pink obi and the height at which it was positioned was flawless. Most likely, she had put it on by herself. Her hair, which she was wearing up for a change, was also fastened with a hairpin adorned with wild pinks that complemented the yukata. If one had to describe Aria’s appearance with a single word, it would be “cute.” But in Shirayuki’s case ... it would be “pretty.” I already knew that of course, as did everyone else in Butei High. Shirayuki had the kind of looks that would guarantee her an easy victory if she were to enter that National Beautiful Girl Contest. That was the truth of the matter. But as her childhood friend, at some point, that fact stopped registering in my head. When she completely changed her image on me like this, I was forced to acknowledge her beauty. It did embarrass me, though. Shirayuki, with her impeccable manners, was sitting in the proper Japanese fashion and had her back turned towards me with her cell phone connected to its charger, placed perfectly on her lap for easy access. She was probably waiting for me to call her. Her figure was being reflected in the window, so I could see her face, but she still didn’t seem to notice me.
I kind of feel like toying with her now.
“...”
I took out my cell phone and sent her an e-mail from the hallway.
“Sorry. Gonna be late by thirty more minutes.”
When Shirayuki’s white cell phone lit up, she grabbed it at a speed too fast for the eye to follow, and holding it in front of her with both hands, she read the message. She then cheerfully typed her reply. I had thought ahead of time to put my phone in manner mode and read the e-mail that came back to me.
“That’s okay. I'll be here waiting.”
There was even a smiley face at the end of the sentence. It wouldn’t be unreasonable for her to get a little angry … I tried sending another e-mail.
“Actually, it’s gonna be three more hours. Wanna just call it off?”
Again, Shirayuki opened the phone she had replaced on the charger and read my message. She looked as if the world was about to come to an end.
Hehehe. I’m right here though.
“Stop looking as if the world is about to come to the end,” I e-mailed her. When she read it, she sat there blinking her eyes with a confused look on her face.
This is like a Shirayuki remote control. I could do this all day.
But having taken things this far, I started feeling a little guilty, so I decided to make my presence known.
“Come on. Let’s go,” I said with a wry smile on my face.
“Hyaaa!” cried Shirayuki, jumping around twenty centimeters into the air, but still maintaining the same sitting position.
How in world did she do that?
“K-K-Kin-chan! You’re horrible! You were watching me from behind and laughing the whole time?!” A rosy-cheeked Shirayuki stood up, and with her glossy bangs swaying back and forth, lightly walked over to me. Rather, she tried to, but must have been fairly nervous because she stumbled on thin air.
“Aah!”
“What are you tripping over for? ...Um, I mean, sorry for being late.”
“No, don’t worry about it! You’re not late at all!” she insisted, smiling and waving her open palm in front of her.
I was undoubtedly late, but ... if that’s what the person who was kept waiting says, I guess it’s not too much of a problem. When our eyes met, Shirayuki hurriedly averted her gaze and fretfully straightened out her yukata.
“K-Kin-chan, what do you think of these clothes? I ordered it on-line, but ... it doesn’t look strange, does it?
“Not really.”
“T-That’s good. … Ah, what about my hair? I just had it done at a salon on Academy Island … It’s not weird, is it?
“It’s not weird.”
Upon hearing my answer, Shirayuki looked so relieved, it made me feel embarrassed to just stare at her. Before the situation got more uncomfortable, I said, “Let’s get going” and went back to the door of the apartment. I put on my shoes, and when I turned around, Shirayuki said she was coming and followed after me with quick, mincing steps. She gracefully made her way to the door, where she slipped on what appeared to be newly bought women’s paulownia-wood getas. Her every movement was that of a perfect Japanese woman. She stands like a Chinese peony, sits like a tree peony, and walks like a lily. I think that’s how the expression goes ... for this sort of thing anyways.
I’m not at all averse to going out at night. Back when I first transferred from Assault to Inquesta, I felt somewhat empty, and after eating dinner, I would aimlessly prowl around the city at night.