That evening, a typhoon hit the area hard, just as the news had predicted.
It brought howling winds and heavy rain—a disaster that injured people and damaged homes. There was nothing especially notable about it. Such things happen at least one a year; they’re awful, but commonplace.
The news had promised this one would rage on through the night, so we’d taken some precautions, such as closing up the shutters and bringing in the potted plants—if those flew away, it would be bad news. We’d put our heads together and done everything we could think of.
…But it was a very old house, and it was hard to feel secure. The windows were rattling so hard, it felt like they were about to break. I hoped the roof wouldn’t tear off. It seemed unlikely, but I couldn’t help feeling anxious.
Still seated at the dining table, I turned the TV way up, hoping to drown out the wind. There was no need to watch coverage of the typhoon, so I flipped to a program featuring cheery celebrities visiting shops on a bright, sunny day. For the first time, I was grateful they filmed variety shows like this in advance.
“What should we do for dinner?” Kurumi was standing in the kitchen with her apron on. “We were so busy preparing for the typhoon, I haven’t even started cooking.”
“Then no need to make anything. We’ve got frozen food and the like.”
“…Yeah, we do. But cooking might help me distract myself.”
“In that case, I’m happy to wait. Take as long as you like.”
“You sure know how to butter a girl up. Why does that just make me feel guilty?”
Kurumi drifted back to the table and flung herself over the top of it. The round back of her head was right in front of me. She wasn’t wearing her newsboy cap, but her dyed underlayer was exposed for all to see. I reached over and rubbed her head. She made a pouty face but let me do it.
“Natsume, do you think we’ll feel better once the storm passes?”
“Good question. I hope so.”
“Will the clear skies give us the answers we want?”
“…I think it’s safe to say they won’t.”
I thought back to when I was sitting in class, right after my first meeting with Nanaougi. Anxious, I’d looked out the window and seen big, white clouds against a pure blue sky. Watching them made something clear to me: There are no easy answers, no directions written in the sky. And that’s why I can’t just sit here, waiting for them.
Ever since Kurumi and I joined forces, we’d lived on our own terms. That meant we had to make up our own minds about where we were headed, just like how we’d decided to live here together. The choice was ours, and so we had to bear the responsibilities that came with it.
…We knew all that, and yet we were still stumped. That was the whole problem.
“What do we do?” Kurumi mumbled into the tabletop. I rubbed her head again.
We had all the lights on, trying to brighten up the room as time steadily ticked away. Maybe we’d be happiest if time stopped altogether. I felt like my empty thoughts were melting into the thick, humid air.
“I can try my hand at cooking,” I offered. “Maybe helping me out will distract you and be a little less stressful.”
“Hmm… Maybe. If you’re up for it, I am.”
In that case, I’d better open the fridge and see what we have. I can find a recipe on my phone. Something simple.
I got up to do just that…
…and the doorbell rang. The sound was almost lost in the wind. We both swung around to face the entrance.
“What?” said Kurumi, surprised. “Who could that be, in this weather? A delivery guy?”
“I don’t remember us ordering anything.”
“Neither do I. Maybe it’s a business order for the café?”
Ordering supplies, maybe? But who delivers packages this late?
And venturing out in weather like this was taking your life in your hands.
“…Maybe it’s someone in need of help,” I suggested.
“Oh, crap. Then I’d better go see what’s up.” Kurumi stood and headed for the door.
It was hard to imagine anyone going out in a storm like this, so I figured nine out of ten, it was someone related to Kurumi coming to check on her, like her mom had.
They might push their way in again. Maybe I should hide myself.
I grabbed my shoes—we’d left them by the porch—and headed to the closet.
But as I reached for the door, something stopped me.
“…Aiiiiee! H-hey! Natsume! Help!”
Kurumi had just let out an alarming shriek.
I raced down the hall to the door.
An intruder? If they slipped in during a storm, it could delay any calls for help.
What was I doing? I should have been prepared for that!
“What is it? You okay, Kurumi?!”
I turned the corner…
…and found Kurumi gaping at someone.
The person in question was certainly crazy, and arguably, she was an intruder.
It was Nana Nanaougi. She was in uniform, grinning merrily at us.
“Good evening. Nice weather we’re having!” Her ponytail swayed as she looked at each of us in turn, flinging water all around.
She had no umbrella, not even a raincoat. Her whole body was soaked. Her blouse clung to her body, showing off every curve. How was it even possible to be so wet?
And why was she here? How did she even find out about this place?
I could feel my head filling with question marks.
This was Nanaougi, no there was use overthinking things. I had to start with the questions I could get answers to.
I grabbed Kurumi’s hand and pulled her behind me, then faced Nanaougi down.
“What do you want? How’d you find this place?”
“Now that would be telling. But if you promise not to get mad, I could share.”
“Sorry, I’m already mad. Those conditions are untenable. Just fess up.”
“Whoa, you’re scaring me. Fine, fine, here goes. Ren, do you know what this is?” She pulled a round item out of her breast pocket. “It’s a GPS tag. Link it to your phone, and you’ll always know where it is. They’re meant to help you avoid losing things, but…you can guess how I used it.”
“…You stashed it in my things? When?”
“Last time I was in contact with your bookbag, Ren.”
When was that? I hadn’t met with her at school very often. When had she had the opportunity to touch my bookbag? I couldn’t remember a single incident.
“Wow, you’re dense. Maybe this’ll jog your memory?” She narrowed her eyes, then repeated a line she’d said to me once before, copying every word exactly: “If you’re seeing a girl, you’ve gotta dress for the occasion! At least dust off your bookbag.”
…I remembered. It was the time she’d hit on me as I was leaving school.
I went back to the room where I kept my things in and checked my backpack. There, I found another GPS tag, just like the one she’d shown me, inside the back pouch. She’d pulled one over on me. I didn’t use that pouch, so I’d never noticed.
It all made sense. That was how she’d tracked us to the Stargazing Club, too.
I went back to the entrance and tossed the GPS tag at her.
“You’re quite the stalker. This is definitely illegal.”
“Ah-ha-ha, illegal? You’re one to talk.” Nanaougi caught the tag in one hand and slipped it into her breast pocket. It struck me as weirdly badass. She was as crafty as ever.
“I get how you tracked us, but why come all this way?”
“Well, to talk, obviously. Can I at least come in? It may be summer, but it’s pretty cold standing out here in the wind while sopping wet. I’m liable to catch pneumonia.”
“…You’re the one who went out in a storm. Why’d you pick today?”
“Isn’t it obvious? So you couldn’t just run me off.”
“Whaaat?!”
I scowled at her, but she just winked back.
“Ren, Kurumi, let me in. You don’t have it in you to send me away now.”
“…Why not?”
“I’m here to talk about Ookuma.”
That took both our breaths away. Ookuma was the very problem we were currently trying to solve. But why would Nanaougi bring her up here and now?
Even as I wondered this, another part of me thought it made perfect sense.
Of course. Nanaougi was the first to contact Ookuma.
How much did she know, and what did she want from us? I was curious. Maybe this was something we needed to hear.
Kurumi and I glanced at each other.
“And if you don’t let me in, I’ll die before I get home.”
“…The bath’s the door on the left.”
“Oh, sweet. You’re so nice, Kurumi! Thank you!”
With a look, Kurumi and I had decided to let her in. We were reluctant, but I knew this was our only option.
I mean, we weren’t heartless enough to send someone out to die in a typhoon. That was the whole reason we were struggling in the first place.