Chapter 03
A LITTLE GIRL ate curry. Behind her sat her beloved kappa and otter plushies, and on either side of her sat her loving parents, watching over her.
“It is good?”
“Yeah! I love your curry, Mama!”
“I see. You really do love curry, don’t you Ringo?”
“Yeah, I love curry!”
“You’re such a good girl, Ringo!”
“That tickles! If you squeeze me like that, I can’t eat! Mama, what’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing. I’m just so happy.”
“That’s weird.”
“Aw, no fair! Your Mama’s hogging you all to herself! Time for Papa to get a squeeze in, too!”
“Papa!”
“Ringo, you are our dearest, dearest treasure. Let’s stay together as a family like this forever!”
“Yeah! I love my Papa and my Mama! And curry!”
Even now, years later, the kappa plushie and the otter plushie were still by her side. No matter how old and dusty they got, no matter how frayed in places, their slightly vacant, gentle faces never changed, as constant as her love for them. She probably would never bring herself to throw them away. As if cursed, they were bound to one another, so close that they could be called family.
✦ ✦ ✦
That morning, on the table in her empty living room, Ringo faced down her toast with a serious look on her face. She squeezed a bottle of chocolate syrup, carefully drawing a heart atop the toast. Inside this heart were two names: “Keiju,” and “Ringo.”
“There we go, all done. Time to eat!” Just as she lifted the toast and began to take a bite, her mother, clad in a suit, finally rushed into the living room.
“Oh goodness, it’s so late already!” She looked at the clock on the wall, then back to Ringo. “I’ve got an important meeting today, so you can go ahead and eat without me tonight.”
“Mama, today is the twentieth,” Ringo said, casually folding the toast in half to hide the syrup letters.
“Yes, I know. Sorry, I’ll have some curry while I’m out, so could you go eat out with your friends?” She readjusted her wristwatch and drank her milk coffee from a mug set on the table in one big swig. “See you later.”
As her mother held up a hand, heading out, Ringo called to her, “Mama!”
“What is it now?” She turned around frantically. One large curler hung down from her bangs.
“You’ve still got a curler in,” Ringo pointed out coolly.
Her mother held a hand up to her bangs, and gasped, “Oh my goodness!” She removed it and placed it down on the table, then headed back out while unraveling her coiled bangs.
Ringo let out a sigh. When she opened the toast again, the sweet-smelling heart was all a mess, the letters smudged beyond recognition.
The twentieth of every month was to be “Curry Day.” This was a rule of the Oginome household. Furthermore, today was a special day. Today, for the first time, he would be eating Ringo’s homemade curry.
Ringo had already perfected a special, love-filled curry. The carrots, which he hated, would be grated, and it was chock full of potatoes, which he loved. And it contained a secret ingredient: apple jam.
She slathered some apple jam atop the chocolate syrup.
Her dish might not look very appealing, but that didn’t matter. He would adore a homemade curry. He and Ringo were bound by fate, after all.
She smiled in satisfaction, licking the syrup and jam from her fingertips.
Eating curry with someone you adored was the taste of happiness.
“Survival Tactiiic!!!”
A gust of white lace blew along with the shout.
I realized now that the sweet fragrance seemed to be emanating from the curiously sprawling lace. The air that filled this alternate space didn’t quite smell like vanilla, or rose, or soap, or sunlight, or fresh grass, but it held us enrapt.
Today, the queen of our household, accompanied by the three penguins, once more wore the penguin hat atop her head. She had her feet planted haughtily atop the heads of Penguins No. 1 and No. 2.
Kanba and I stood, both looking back at Himari.
“Surely, you worthless nothings have been told! You must obtain the Penguindrum!”
I hesitated in the light of her cold and powerful red gaze. Then I took a breath and spoke.
“Himari. Quit messing with us with these elaborate illusions already!”
“Huh?” Kanba looked at me, a bit of surprise on his face.
“Oh?” Himari’s eyebrows raised, and her bright red eyes opened wide.
“I mean, look, we already took your word on this Survival Tactic and Penguindrum thing once. It was right after that whole ordeal, after all. But, let’s end this already,” I said resolutely, looking up at Himari. “I know it was hard being hospitalized for so long, and I understand how good it must feel to finally be released from that place. And I’d probably be lying if I said I understood what that’s like. But I’d like to try to understand.” I gave voice to the thoughts that churned in my head. “So let’s work together. This isn’t what you wanted to do once you were healthy and out of the hospital, was it?”
Himari looked at me, contempt in her eyes, playing with Penguin No. 3 as if it was a ball.
“Are you saying that you cretins still do not believe in our existence?”
“I…” Kanba averted his eyes from me.
“Aniki?” There was no way that he could have bought into this.
“Hmph. Are you still possessed of the base obstinance and suspicion so typical of you lower life-forms?” She cast a look to the penguins, grinning wickedly. “In that case, we haven’t any choice. Shall we treat you cretins once more to that
nightmare?”
Her eyes glowed as she looked at us.
“Wait! Before that, the Penguindrum!” Kanba quickly protested. “Please tell us more about the Penguindrum!”
“Aniki…”
So, he did believe in it. He truly believed that Himari was possessed by the penguin-shaped hat. And that the being that resided in that hat held Himari’s life in its hands.
Unlike me, Kanba appeared desperate, fully convinced.
“It seems that you truly understand your place,” said Himari, looking at Kanba, her lips twisted.
“Aniki, do you really believe this? Do you know something I don’t?”
I got an uneasy feeling as I looked at Kanba, who seemed at a loss for words.
“Er, wait. I know how this goes.” I looked down at the floor. Surely enough, a square shape snapped open and the floor receded. “No! Why?! Why are you only being mean to meeee?!”
As I fell, spiraling, into the darkness, I pictured my brother’s anguished face in my mind. Was he able to comprehend, even accept these bizarre circumstances? To think that a single hat held control over our family’s fate. The world went black before my eyes, literally.
“Shall we initiate the Survival Tactic?!”
All that was left was the booming voice of the Himari that was not Himari, ringing in my head. It was just like the dream I had of riding the subway. Where would this carry me to? And where would we be able to get off of this ride?
Later that day, we stood nervously before the automatic doors of the condo Oginome Ringo lived in, with their complicated art deco-style design. I wanted to bombard my brother with all the obvious questions floating through my head—were we really going to do this? Should we be doing this?—but when I saw the sullen, serious look on his face, I knew there was no way out of it.
We were going to break into Oginome Ringo’s home.