Kuchina Hitsujimoto was perplexed. In turmoil, even.
“I have work today…”
When she spoke, her breath appeared as a pure white cloud.
Kuchina raised her face. Katsuhiko and Yoshimi Hitsujimoto were sitting on the sofa in front of her. Their complexions didn’t look too good. It was because the living room was a little dark, and the lighting was a bluish-white color. Not because the two of them were frozen. Not because the blood wasn’t circulating in their faces. The room was underground, sealed tight with an electronic lock and temperature controlled. Yet it was still their living room. The cupboards, the table, the chair Kuchina was sitting on, the TV, the TV stand, and the sofa her parents were sitting on were all exactly the same as they had been long ago. Everything was from the living room of the house the three of them used to live in. They definitely weren’t in a mortuary in the basement. They were in the family’s living room.
Kuchina had decided to think that way. She was trying to believe it.
“Mom, Dad, what should I do?”
Her parents didn’t answer.
They must have been deep in thought.
“It’s tough, isn’t it, getting asked for advice? But it’s tough for me, too. I have work, but all I can think about is the diary…”
“But isn’t that a good thing?” came her adoptive father’s voice.
“Yes, doing something like an exchange diary with friends seems like fun,” her adoptive mother said with a smile.
“…Friends.”
“They are your friends, aren’t they?”
“Ah, your dad doesn’t really get it, but you wouldn’t have an exchange diary if you weren’t friends, would you?”
“We wouldn’t have an exchange diary if we weren’t friends…”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“You’ve made some friends, Kuchina.”
“I…have friends…”
“Your mother’s mentioned it a few times now, hasn’t she? That you should try to make some friends at school?”
“You always said you couldn’t because it was dangerous.”
“I think it should be fine as long as you’re careful.”
“Once she makes up her mind, she won’t change it no matter what you say. Kuchina sure can be stubborn.”
“An exchange diary…with friends…”
“It doesn’t matter what you write, so how about just trying to write something?”
“It’s a diary, isn’t it? You could write about what happened today.”
“Today…” Kuchina glanced at the table. The notebook with POTATO PARTY EXCHANGE DIARY written on the cover was sitting on top of it. “I have work soon.”
Her adoptive parents didn’t say anything.
Tell me what to do.
Say something.
Don’t just stay silent.
Kuchina didn’t say these thoughts out loud.
It’s cold…
The air here was frigid.
Kuchina shook her head. She stood and reached for the notebook.
She could hear something. It sounded like a bell.