The oppressive heat of the summer seemed to stretch on and on. The room still felt muggy despite having the run-down air conditioner cranked up to full blast. A thin veil of sweat stuck to my skin.
Kaoru Odajima was settled deep against the sofa cushions as she slurped from a steamy cup of instant ramen, seemingly oblivious to the surrounding temperature.
“Ramen’s like the whole universe, y’know,” she said between slurps. Her words seemed to hang in the air.
We were the only ones here, so I assumed she was speaking to me. I slipped a bookmark between the pages of my novel and then slammed it shut. “That’s an awfully dramatic statement to make out of the blue.” I narrowed my eyes at her.
Odajima pointed her chopsticks toward me. A drop of broth lingering on the tip of them dripped onto the floor. Yeah, I’m definitely making her clean that up later.
“It’s not dramatic at all. Ramen is the universe,” she muttered. She shoved her chopsticks back into the cup of ramen and started swirling them around, mixing up the contents. “What I mean is, it’s infinite. Out of infinite possibilities, they chose the most unparalleled finite set of ingredients and stuffed them all into one vessel.”
“Yeah, I don’t get it,” I replied vaguely. I thought about telling her, “You know, it’s possible that the universe isn’t infinite,” but decided against it. That might be too insensitive.
She continued swirling her chopsticks around inside the cup as she went on, a hint of excitement in her voice, “They cut off a piece of infinity and refined it into this perfect form. That’s why ramen is the universe.”
“Okay…”
She wore a colorful cardigan that was definitely a violation of school rules over her wrinkled button-down shirt. She looked almost like one of those irreverent, trend-obsessed gyaru girls, so to hear her waxing philosophical made me snort a little to myself.
Now that she’d said her piece, she was back to slurping up her noodles. I cast a sidelong glance her way and opened my book to resume reading. But then a thought jumped into my head. “So is this the universe, too?” I held up my book and shook it in the air.
Odajima shrugged. “It is if you think it is, Yuzu.”
“That seems awfully arbitrary.”
“It’s not. That’s just how it is,” she said simply, then resumed slurping. I caught myself thinking that she had real skill—at slurping noodles, that is.
Since she was once again absorbed in her ramen, I went back to reading.
We were currently attending our school’s literature club. Obviously, our main club activity was reading, but I was the only one who actually read. The others were members in name only, including Odajima—the one currently slurping ramen on the sofa.
Technically, it was against the rules to eat any food not purchased directly from the school inside the classroom, but she seemed to have no intention of stopping despite my repeated warnings, and eventually I gave up.
Naturally, there wasn’t any means of boiling water inside the school, so she had even smuggled an electric kettle into our club’s room.
Though I knew she was only using the club to hide her crimes, I was just happy that someone else besides me had shown up to the meeting. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing and have her stop coming, too.
“Oh! By the way…,” she said, raising her voice as if just remembering something. Apparently, she’d finished her noodles and set the cup, still quite full of broth, down on the table. “Did you hear about the transfer student?”
I closed my book again. It made a louder sound than I’d intended, startling her. Her shoulders jerked, and she frowned at me. “Sorry, did I interrupt your reading?”
“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry I startled you.” I’d have to be more careful next time. I genuinely hadn’t intended to intimidate her, but she’d taken it as my way of saying, “I’m trying to read here!”
I gently set my book down on the desk and turned to face her. “The transfer student. Class Three, right? I heard people gossiping about it this morning.”
“Yep, that’s the one! It’s totally weird for someone to transfer at this time of year, don’t you think? Not only that, but…” She paused dramatically, one corner of her mouth quirking up into a triumphant smile. “I heard she’s really pretty.”
“Oh yeah?” Honestly, I couldn’t care less. But I tried to sound interested anyway.
“You don’t sound very excited.”
“Yeah, well… If the transfer student is in another class, it’s not like we’ll get much chance to interact anyway.”
“Even if she’s pretty?”
“Do I really look like the type to go hit on pretty girls?” I asked.
She snorted and shrugged. Not saying anything in this case clearly meant “No.” The topic was so far outside my realm of interest, I naturally reached for my book again. I was at a particularly good part, so if she was done talking, I wanted to keep reading. But her voice once again interrupted my thoughts.
“I think her name is…Ai Mizuno or something like that.”
The sound of my chair clattering echoed through the room. Odajima’s eyes widened. I’d leaped out of my seat without even thinking.
“…What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I…” A cold sweat broke out over my body as I slowly leaned over to put my chair upright again. “I know someone with that name.”
“Ooh, really?” she asked, a friendly smile on her face. “What if it’s the same person?”
What if it’s the same person? Odajima’s words shot through my mind.
I certainly hadn’t expected to hear that name again, especially now, so I was completely flustered. The girl I dated in junior high was also named Ai Mizuno. She had to move away because of her parents. What were the odds that she had moved back and was now going to my high school, of all places? Nah, it’s just a coincidence, I told myself.
I wanted to ask Odajima if the transfer student’s name used the same characters as my ex-girlfriend’s, but I knew that would sound a little too desperate. Odajima was extremely perceptive—she’d figure out this person was my ex in no time flat.