“If you don’t like it, you can always quit. So give it a try!”
It was that proposal of Chi’s that had made me start livestreaming.
My dad, the only one who’d told me that my power wasn’t wrong, had died, and ever since then I’d avoided telling fortunes for other people. I’d only use my power on myself. Even if the results were bad, they would only be bad for me.
The future never changed because of my fortune-telling. That’s what I’d thought.
That’s how I’d lived, until one day Chi had said, “Don’t be afraid. Try telling other people’s fortunes. Prove that your dad didn’t die because of your fortune-telling. It’ll be fine! I’ll be right there with you!”
Her words had given me courage.
After that, Chi had worked as hard as she could to get ready. She found out how to livestream on Nico and negotiated with the teachers to get permission to use the AV room at school. She’d even hand-made the decorations we used in the room for the performance.
She was the first person whose fortune I’d told on my livestream. It was a demonstration where I guessed the cards that Chi flipped over. One of the listeners had thought it was neat, and called in. That was how my fortune-telling program got its start.
Barely anybody watched at first. Nobody insulted me, but nobody praised me, either. At that early stage, Chi was the only regular viewer. Sometimes the microphone would pick up Chi laughing. I think at the end of the program, sometimes listeners would say, “Say hi to your helper for us!” too.
One day I’d invited her to come in front of the camera, and she’d said...
“I’m fine. This is your broadcast, Myu.”
She’d laughed and turned me down. But if you asked me, this program was both of ours.
The first time I got a mean comment, Chi was madder than I was. When I was upgraded from a user stream to an official stream, Chi was happier than anybody.
A week after that had been Chi’s birthday. After a lot of thought, I’d finally settled on a really cute hairpiece with a little cartoon dog on it. It was made by an amateur, and I’d found it at a crafts fair. The dog’s droopy eyes and bothered expression were so cute, and somehow it reminded me of Chi.
✦ ✦ ✦
I told her that when I gave it to her, and she’d laughed happily.
“Okay, you can wear it during your livestreams, then,” she’d said. “When something sad happens or something bothers you, pretend you’re thinking and touch it, and then cheer up! I’ll always, always be there for you!” And then she’d tried the hairpiece on right then, then took it off and put it on my head.
...I was happy. I remember I almost cried.
I was only able to keep livestreaming because of you, Chi.
The feelings of gratitude almost brought me to tears. I suddenly closed my eyes tight.
“Does it look good on me?” I heard Chi say.
I opened my eyes, trying to keep from crying, and went to nod...
And on top of the desk in front of me was a red lump of meat.
And on top of the smashed meat was a hairpiece with a cartoon dog.
The dogs eyes, stained red,
were staring
right at me.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” I opened my eyes and saw the ceiling of my room. The lights were off.
The spring sunlight was pouring in past the closed curtains.
I realized I was holding something. I looked and saw it was a hairpiece of a cartoon dog.
I was at home. I was in my room. Nobody was home but me.
I hadn’t let in any air, and the curtains were closed all day, so the air in the room was musty. I must have been sleeping again.
I slept and got up, spaced out for a while, and then slept again. I wasn’t sure how many days I’d been repeating that cycle. It just felt like if I stayed here, Chi would open the door and just come right in...
“Chi...” I called the name of my dear friend in a voice hoarse from sobbing.
And then she’d say, “Myu, are you okay?” and then I’d give her a big hug and tell her I had a scary dream and cry. And then Chi would probably pat my head and tell me it was okay. She was shorter than me, but she liked to pretend she was an older sister.
I kept hoping it would happen, but my door never moved an inch.
With nothing else to do, I stood up from the bed and opened the curtains. It was so bright outside. There wasn’t a cloud in the whole sky. It was the perfect day to go outside.
But I hated it.
“I want a crepe...”
When I went with Chi to get crepes, I’d always decide what I wanted before I got in line, but then when I got to the point where I ordered, I would always change my mind. Chi liked hers simple, with sugar and butter, or honey and butter. But I liked the ones packed with cream and fruit.
We didn’t have the money to buy a lot of them, and they had a ton of calories, so we’d only order one for both of us to share. That meant either Chi or I had to give up on the one we liked. We’d try to settle on something, until finally Chi would pick the one I liked, and we would split it and eat it together.
I would never be able to eat crepes with Chi again. Just thinking that made me cry once more.
“Chi!” I sobbed and yelled her name, knowing she would never hear me—and then...
The phone on my pillow started to vibrate, as if in answer to my voice.
I gasped in surprise and stared at it. The vibration quickly stopped. For several days now, I hadn’t had the energy to answer the phone. But this time, I wanted to know who it was.
Trembling, I reached out my hand for the LCD screen and tapped it with my fingertip.
The light from the screen was so bright. I peered down on top of it.
And when I saw the name, I couldn’t look away.
“Chi.”