"Kurosawa, your complexion looks good these days. Did you get a boyfriend?"
"...No."
I shook my head at Fukuda's question.
Miura, Fukuda, Yamashita. These were kids I used to hang out with quite often before I dealt with the Gaki.
I still hang out with them. At school.
After saving Miura's life, I didn't particularly follow them around anymore. I had at least broken the death flag for now, so there wasn't much else I could do.
Miura's life after that... well, it's up to Miura's own luck. As long as she doesn't suddenly contract some incurable disease or get involved in an accident, Miura should be fine.
Maybe it's because they're from a wealthy school, or perhaps it's just how Japanese high school students hang out, but spending time with these kids costs quite a bit of money.
It's not an amount I absolutely couldn't afford, but it's not an expense I could ignore either.
I never tried to distance myself from them, but if you decline a few times, eventually they stop asking.
"Come to think of it, you said you joined a club, right? How is it? Are there any nice guys there? Like a literature boy?"
If there were, I imagine there'd be some youth drama unfolding in the Literature Club. A boy suddenly joining a club with only female students? That's basically a harem anime setup.
...
Huh? Wait, five?
Why did I think five? Usually, there are only four of us who gather in the Literature Club room: Kaneko, Ikeda, me, and Yuuki.
I quickly realized why I had thought that.
The Literature Club has one ghost member. Just to be clear, in case you might misunderstand due to the original work, by "ghost" I don't literally mean a ghost.
It just means someone whose name is on the roster but who never shows up, so they're treated like a ghost—hence "ghost member."
Ikeda and Kaneko knew about this person's existence, but they never mentioned their name. That's natural since I never asked.
And the reason I assumed this member of unknown gender was female was quite obvious.
There's no way Ikeda could talk to a guy.
Approaching an unfamiliar guy and persuading him to join the club? I'd get a girlfriend before that happened.
"..."
"I guess not. I can tell just by your expression."
Fukuda patted my shoulder as if to comfort me.
No, it's not necessary. I'm quite happy with a club that has only girls.
"Haah, you know~"
But it seemed Fukuda wasn't done talking.
Fukuda sighed deeply and sat down in the seat next to me. Of course, it was someone else's seat, but honestly, who would say anything if Fukuda sat there?
"That guy I was talking to last time ended up saying he wants to focus on studying. Come on, we're only first-years—does that make any sense? Even if Tokyo University is his goal, still."
Well, I guess that makes sense since all the boys from the mixer were from prestigious high schools no less prestigious than ours.
By the way, that boy who asked me to contact him never reached out first when I didn't contact him.
"...Don't you have a boyfriend?"
"Why, do I look like I would?"
Fukuda leaned slightly toward me, asking with interest. My question seemed to have pleased her.
"Kurosawa probably wouldn't know about such things."
Yamashita, who had been listening, said.
Well, that's quite rude.
I lived quite a long life in my previous incarnation. I was in my 30s.
Though I still don't know much about it. That's because I never tried to get a girlfriend.
I'm glad there's no one in my head right now. They would have definitely snickered at my excuse.
"Yuu."
Miura spoke with a slightly troubled expression. Yamashita just shrugged.
"Anyway, the Literature Club~ Kotone-chan joined such a boring club~ But it suits you."
I couldn't tell if that was an insult or a compliment. Probably neither. Fukuda is the type to just speak her mind without filter.
"We who go straight home after school shouldn't be talking," Miura said with a smile.
"But it's annoying~ It's hard enough to endure six periods every day, why would I voluntarily stay at school longer?"
In my case, it was for securing food, but I couldn't say that in front of them.
"Right. It's annoying."
Yamashita responded to Fukuda's comment.
"Ahaha..."
Miura laughed awkwardly.
"Oh, by the way, Kotone-chan. How about today? Are you free?"
Huh?
When I looked at Fukuda, she was smiling happily as she spoke.
"You're really good at singing. I've been bragging about you to some friends from middle school. So, I was wondering, we promised to go to karaoke today—would you come with us?"
"..."
I stared at Fukuda.
How should I put it... I can't tell if she's being friendly or just using me. Well, nothing bad has happened when I've gone along with her before.
I guess she's just a simpleton who doesn't sweat the small stuff.
"...Alright."
"Really!?"
Fukuda responded excitedly to my answer.
"Kurosawa, you don't have to go along with Fukuda if you don't want to."
"Mako-chan, what do you mean 'go along with'?"
Fukuda objected to Miura's cutting remark.
"It's fine."
Yeah.
Going out every day was still a bit risky, but now that I had a steady income, going out occasionally wasn't so bad.
To be honest, hanging out with these three was quite enjoyable.
Karaoke, huh. It had been an incredibly long time since I'd gone because I wanted to. Those days when I gathered with close friends and just shouted without thinking, having fun.
Well, those friends were all of the same gender back then. But hanging out with these kids gave me that same feeling.
It's a different feeling from company dinner karaoke sessions.
Only after I answered with my usual expressionless face did Miura look somewhat relieved.
She must have thought I was declining every day because I genuinely disliked it.
...Maybe next time I should think of some excuse.
*
Today, I made a vow to myself.
I'm going to record and upload songs as soon as they come out on YourTube. I'm not particularly thinking about making money, but rather aiming for the first-mover advantage, I guess.
Fukuda... and Miura and Yamashita's friends were shocked when they heard me sing.
They praised me, touching my hair and cheeks with such amazement that I decided to take their compliments as genuine. Though I'm not thinking I could become an idol or anything.
It's not a bad idea to think ahead about where to invest in the future.
Despite appearances, I'm a person from the future. I know several ways to make money besides video streaming. Someday when coins come out, I'll buy a bunch and hold them for about 10 years, and I should also buy stocks in companies that will make tremendous money from smartphone development.
I don't know exactly where the peak will be, but I at least know that if I hold onto them, they'll go up.
...And to do all that, I needed to earn money diligently.
"...Hah."
Going around in circles, back to square one.
The saying "a little bit gathered is still just a little bit" suddenly resonated with me.
Fukuda, Miura, Yamashita. And their middle school friends.
None of them lived outside of Tokyo.
They all lived in areas famous enough that even I would have recognized them during my early days of knowing little about Japan.
For kids like that, their way of having fun was quite wholesome and not too expensive, but still, from the way they talked and acted, I could tell they had no hesitation about spending money.
Perhaps Miura's concern for me was because she was the only one who recognized that I was "poor."
On the train ride home.
There seem to be quite a lot of people commuting from Saitama to Tokyo.
Well, that makes sense. There were many people commuting from Gyeonggi-do to Seoul too.
As someone who spends an hour and a half traveling to school, I can somewhat relate.
At least I don't have to transfer trains, which is a consolation.
After staring blankly out the train window for a while, I get off at Omiya Station. Quite a few people got off with me.
As I was getting off—
"Eek!?"
By sheer coincidence, I heard someone scream like that.
The heads of people getting off the same car as me simultaneously turned toward the source of the sound.
Through the crowd, I could see someone collapsed.
"Someone please call for help!"
A young woman's voice was heard.
"Excuse me, are you okay? Can you hear me?"
The next sounds I heard were the typical first steps of CPR.
The woman must have received training somewhere.
Then it should be fine.
Usually, in incidents like this, no one steps up, which often leads to serious consequences. If at least one person has stepped up, there's no need for me to interfere.
Thinking that, I moved my feet as usual—
I moved—
"..."
I thought I had moved, but strangely enough, I was heading toward where the woman had screamed.
It's an occupational disease, an occupational disease.
Sighing deeply as I headed in that direction, I decided not to interfere if the woman was handling it well.
I pushed through the crowd to the front to see the situation.
The woman was young. Average appearance in a neat suit. She had the look of "just an office worker."
The collapsed man was somewhat thin. His height... taller than me, but probably not 170cm. He wasn't just lying limply on the floor...
He was clutching his throat.
A bread and milk carton were rolling nearby. Was he trying to have a meal at the station? And in a hurry?
"..."
His face was gradually turning blue. The man hadn't lost consciousness. He just couldn't speak.
And couldn't breathe.
The woman also seemed unsure of what to do in this situation. She was trying to follow what she had learned, but her expression showed she was wondering if that was really the right approach.
"...Excuse me."
I approached the woman.
"Let me help."
"Huh? Oh, yes."
When I spoke to her, the woman looked somewhat relieved. Even though I'm just a high school student.
Well, in a dangerous situation, anyone who offers help brings relief. Even if they're not an adult.
"We need to get him upright."
When I said that, the woman quickly nodded.
A few men standing around, perhaps finding us a bit unreliable, came to help. That was fortunate. Suddenly getting an adult male who has completely lost strength to stand up is not an easy task.
After getting the man to stand, I went behind him and supported him. It looked like I was hugging the man from behind.
Now that he was standing, I could see he had a slightly protruding belly, but otherwise was quite thin, so I could manage to support him.
I made a fist with one hand and placed it at the man's solar plexus, then wrapped my other hand around that fist.
"...Has someone called for help?"
"Ah, yes, I did."
One of the men who had helped lift the man up said. I nodded.
Hugging the man tightly from behind, my face was buried against his back. Despite the weather being close to summer, the man was wearing a full suit. It was inevitable that there would be a sweaty smell from the suit, but that couldn't be helped. I'd probably smell the same if someone was sniffing me from behind.
I pulled up forcefully with both hands on the man's solar plexus.
I didn't expect it to work on the first try. And I'm not particularly strong either.
Once more, and then again. Until the bread stuck in the man's throat came out, or until the rescue team arrived.
It was certainly a difficult task for this body. As I bent my knees slightly to support the weight and tried a few more times, my body gradually became soaked with sweat.
And then—
"Ah!"
The young woman who had been watching us with an anxious expression shouted.
The man took a deep breath. I could feel the waist I was holding expand.
As I slowly lowered the man to the floor, the people watching around us helped again.
After laying the man completely on the floor, I stood up.
While everyone's attention was on the man, I slipped away quietly. At the last moment, the woman seemed to call out "Wait," but I ignored it.
By the time I swiped my card and exited the station, the rescue team was rushing up the station stairs.
Ah, my body is soaked with sweat again.
And my limbs feel weak too. I'm sure my arms and legs will be sore by tomorrow morning.
But what can I do? I should blame myself for not exercising regularly.
I don't have major complaints about becoming a pretty girl, but I wish they had given me super strength or something while they were at it.
If they gave me the ability to summon a sword by slitting my wrist, they should have also given me the ability to wield that sword properly.
Sighing deeply, I staggered toward the streets where darkness had already fallen.
*
"Huh?"
Passing by a gyudon restaurant, I paused for a moment.
Today... I didn't feel the usual sense of unease when passing here.
In fact, I had walked several steps past before stopping, with a feeling of "wait, something's off."
"..."
I backtracked to the gyudon restaurant and peered inside.
Inside the restaurant, middle-aged men were sitting and eating diligently.
But the person I was looking for wasn't there. If a woman in white clothes had been sitting inside, she would have definitely caught my eye.
I guess she doesn't need to monitor me anymore.
Come to think of it, that means she followed me all the way from where I work to the neighborhood where I live. What is she, a stalker?
No, wait, she is a stalker, right? She might not be a normal person, but what she's doing is definitely stalking, so I guess it's not wrong to call her that.
If we need to meet again, she'll find me.
Thinking that, I walked with a somewhat lighter heart.
Although I tried to slip away nonchalantly, honestly, I felt good. Wouldn't anyone? Helping people is fundamentally a good feeling. As long as the person you save doesn't complain about why you saved them or why you took so long.
And as long as you're not interrupted during a meal.
Well, I don't need to go that far anymore, so it doesn't matter, right?
For no reason, I looked up at the sky and thought, well, at least you have some conscience.
Recently, my luck had been pretty good, except for meeting that woman. I got a rice cooker for free, and a fan too. At least I had the basics to live somewhat normally at home.
I have a job now, and money is coming in. I should be able to maintain my lifestyle.
Yes, a person should be able to live like a person.
Thinking that, I entered the apartment building where I lived.
And I felt that sense of unease.
Yes, that unease.
The one I felt when leaving work. And the one I felt in front of the gyudon restaurant.
"..."
I quickly looked around.
And I saw a person.
That person was crouching, watching me.
The apartment building isn't very large. It has four rooms per floor, two floors, and the size of each room isn't very big either.
There's no wall or fence nearby, of course.
But there aren't many lights near this apartment. It relies mainly on streetlights and corridor lights.
There are many other houses nearby, but most of the light comes from windows. In apartments, there are always areas with little light.
Above all, the man was standing in a spot where, from the apartment's perspective, I wouldn't see him unless I deliberately turned my head after turning the corner.
The apartment has no fence, but the houses do.
"..."
Suddenly, chills ran down my spine.
This wasn't the alien chill I felt when seeing yokai. This was the pure fear I had often felt in my previous life.
After being frozen for a few seconds, I immediately started running.
But I soon fell.
I hit my head on the iron stairs leading up to the second floor where my room was, but I didn't feel the pain. The sudden fear that filled my head prevented me from thinking of anything else.
I felt something crushing me from behind.
Ah, that's right.
I... I had just exerted myself. With the body of a skinny, shorter-than-average girl, I had been supporting and holding up an adult male.
And then walked for 30 minutes without rest.
I heard breathing near my ear. The sound was almost as close as the whispers of an Outer God, but this breath was much more humid and unpleasant.
"Mmph!"
I tried to scream, but something firmly covered my mouth.
"Kotone-chan."
A man's voice was heard. A large hand was covering my mouth and holding me tightly, so I couldn't turn my head freely.
I struggled with my arms, trying to crawl up the stairs. I flailed my hands, trying to grab the stairs, but supporting both my weight and the man's weight with just my arms was impossible.
"Today, why... didn't you come?"
Come where—
—The gyudon restaurant? Seriously?
Why was I able to connect that sensation with the man's words? It's because—
Ah, that's right. The Outer God told me to be careful. As if it was enjoying it. As if it was curious about what would happen.
So that's what it was.
I don't remember the face or voice. I'm not someone who pays much attention to the appearance and behavior of people around me. I... well...
No, what did I do wrong?
I was just, just trying to live.
I thought I had died, but then I was reborn in a world I barely remember, and I was just trying to live somehow. I never said I was giving up.
Ah, if you had any conscience, you wouldn't do this.
A stalker. If you were going to warn me, you should have done it properly.
"Hmm? Where did you go?"
I don't know. I just went out with friends.
I tried to turn my body, but it wasn't working well. I gave up on trying to grab the stairs and climb up, and instead tried to remove the man's hand from my mouth. That seemed to work a little better.
I inserted my fingers between his fingers and my face, trying to bend his fingers back, but another hand grabbed mine.
Even if I screamed, no one would respond. The walls in this apartment must be thin.
My head was slowly lifted. The man was using his hand to lift my face. My eyes, which had been facing the stairs, slowly moved up to see the empty stairs—
Empty—
No one—
—No, not empty.
"Something" was looking down at me, or perhaps at the man behind me.
A bright red face.
Eyes much larger than human eyes with terrifyingly upturned corners. Two red horns protruded from the top of the head, and it was wearing—a straw raincoat?
An oni.
That's what it looked like to me. An oni straight out of a picture book.
It was holding a large kitchen knife in its hand.
The oni, standing on the stairs looking down at us, began to approach me one step at a time. The kitchen knife reflecting the corridor light was terrifying.
"What."
The man who was pinning my waist with his knee from behind muttered.
His hand loosened a bit.
I grabbed his finger with all my might and bent it backward.
"Argh!?"
With a distinct sound of something breaking or dislocating, the man's index finger nearly touched the back of his hand.
"This—"
The man quickly removed the hand that had been covering my mouth, but I held onto that finger and persisted. I really used all my strength.
Meanwhile, the oni with the kitchen knife continued to approach.
"Let go! Let go of this!"
Why should I?
My body was now lying with my back against the stairs.
I could clearly see the man's face. His face was glistening with sweat. At a glance, he had quite an ordinary impression. An ordinary-looking man similar to the man-eater I had met before.
A middle-aged man who looked like someone you might commonly see in a gyudon restaurant.
...I've seen him before.
This person was a regular at the maid cafe. He had such an ordinary impression that you'd forget him three seconds after seeing him, but I remembered because he called me by my surname.
Crack, crack.
A scream came from the man's mouth.
Click, click, I heard windows opening around us.
The sweaty fingers eventually slipped from my hand.
The man fell backward, rolling down the stairs a few times. After hitting the back of his head on the floor with a thud, he went limp.
I heard murmuring around me. Wouldn't someone have come out? Wouldn't someone have called the police—
No, more importantly.
I quickly got up.
My heart was beating hard. The oni was still looking straight at me.
Seeing it raise one hand that wasn't holding the kitchen knife toward me, I lunged at the oni with all my might.
"Wait—"
I think I heard something like that.
I grabbed the oni's wrist tightly and twisted it.
"Ow ow ow ow!"
The oni's voice was much more human-like than I expected. So was its hand.
I forcibly twisted and removed the kitchen knife, then crawled on the floor before jumping up and running to the end of the corridor, where I slipped and slid forward.
Turning my body to sit, I brought the knife to my wrist—
"Wait!"
I heard a clear shout.
I looked at the oni while catching my breath.
The oni's expression remained the same. A face glaring at me. Mouth twisted, eyes wide open and fierce.
But, as if somewhat flustered, it was standing awkwardly with both hands stretched out toward me.
As if trying to stop me.
"Calm down. Wait... just wait. Won't you reconsider?"
The oni said.
Its voice was panting like mine, but it was trying to stay calm.
The mouth didn't move while speaking.
I remained frozen, staring at my opponent.
The oni carefully took a few steps toward me, then suddenly seemed to realize something and grabbed under its chin.
And then it ripped off that face—
No, not the face, but a mask.
I don't know what it was made of, but when the man dropped it on the floor, it made a dull thud.
"Today was terrible—but please think carefully just once. Life is only once, right?"
A person with such a kind appearance.
This one also had quite an ordinary impression after removing the mask. A gentle impression, somewhat thin. Age around late twenties.
He looked like an elementary school teacher.
"Come on, put down the knife."
I looked down at the knife I was holding against my wrist.
"Hmm? Wait, wait, let's just talk."
"..."
I looked at the man again.
The man apparently thought I was trying to take my own life.
I slowly removed the knife and put it down on the floor.
Only then did the man collapse onto the floor as if his legs had given out.
As the blood that had rushed to my head slowly receded, I had the leisure to analyze the situation again.
...I see.
I didn't feel the sensation I get when seeing yokai.
A person... it was a person from the beginning.
Of the four doors in the corridor, only one was open.
The room next to where I stay.
The room where I hear snoring every day.
"...Haah."
I exhaled.
And I pressed around my eyes firmly with my hands.
What is... going on here.
Well.
If that thing up there, the one who dropped me here, had any conscience, it would have placed me somewhere better than this in the first place.
I don't know who it is, but they're truly a damn bastard.