Dusk was steadily giving way to night on the road from the hospital back to the Asagami residence.
Sensing the occasional scrutinizing glances from behind, Yūki teased Shiki.
"Your outfit really stands out, Shiki… Don't you get hit on?"
Wearing a kimono when it wasn't a festival always drew attention—especially when the wearer was a beautiful girl. Without even turning her head, Shiki replied:
"Sometimes. It's fine. I'm used to it."
If someone wouldn't take the hint, Shiki's usual approach was to settle it with sheer presence. And if the other party kept pushing with malice… as the future heir of the Ryougi family, Shiki also knew a little about using her fists.
Yūki had learned—more or less—how "serious" that could get.
"Sorry. Even if you're used to it, it must still be a pain… especially if the number of 'beautiful girls' doubles."
"Then don't make things troublesome for me in the first place."
"Miss Tama is still in the hospital. I honestly don't have anyone else I can trust enough to ask."
"…Sigh."
Shiki looked like she wanted to shoot back, but after thinking about what she'd seen of Fujino these past few days, she swallowed the retort and only left a long sigh.
That was right—because Yūki had ended up hospitalized, he'd bombard-texted Shiki into taking over the job of picking up and dropping off his younger sister.
And since the route could barely be considered a straight line—Asagami residence → Reien Girls' Academy → Kan'onji High School → the Ryougi estate—for convenience's sake, Shiki had simply moved into the Asagami house while Yūki was away.
To avoid missing class, she'd have Fujino wait at school after dismissal, then return home together when Shiki passed by. That was how it had ended up.
If the two of them could become friends, that would be nice, Yūki had thought—he'd had that hope, too.
Of course, Shiki had refused at first. No matter how much he whined and wheedled by text, the answer had been a flat: No.
After all, Shiki knew even less about Yūki's sister than she did about Yūki himself. And she'd felt that escorting Fujino—who looked perfectly "normal"—was completely unnecessary.
Realizing that, Yūki had suggested, "Then why don't you try getting to know Asagami Fujino?"
Shiki was sharp. She would surely understand why Yūki's protection of Fujino seemed excessive—especially from an outsider's perspective.
Shiki hadn't replied.
But less than half a day later, Yūki learned from Fujino that Shiki had temporarily moved into the Asagami residence—and agreed to accompany Fujino to school and back for the time being.
Apparently, Shiki had also eaten Fujino's cooking out of sheer skepticism… and now, when she had time, she was even teaching Fujino how to cook.
"Miss Ryougi seems cold on the surface, but she's unexpectedly kind. Though when she teaches, she's very strict—kind of scary."
That was Fujino's assessment in her texts.
As for Shiki's assessment of Fujino… it probably matched that long, helpless sigh.
"So?" Yūki grinned. "My sister's dangerous, right?"
Shiki nodded.
"Yeah. Dangerous—in every sense."
She continued with rare seriousness.
"The effects of congenital analgesia don't show on the surface, but they run deep. She's dull to both kindness and malice, lacks the feel of being alive… and even lacks the feel of being human. If you don't protect her carefully, she'll break easily—like a vase balanced on a tightrope."
"Exactly, exactly. I'm protecting her well, right?"
"Yeah. Too well, if anything."
Shiki gave him a half-smile that wasn't quite a smile. Yūki didn't catch the deeper meaning and only said with feeling:
"Fujino's a good kid."
Without those ugly experiences, Fujino was simply a gentle girl—bad at sports, considerate, and fond of taking care of others.
Shiki didn't disagree. She only looked annoyed.
"Come back to school tomorrow. And don't dump jobs like this on me again."
"Haha. Thinking about it, between the night you carried me home and all this… I owe you a lot. Ice cream isn't going to cut it…"
"Stop thinking like a merchant."
Shiki wasn't helping him to seek repayment.
Even thinking in terms of obligations made Shiki unhappy. She wasn't looking for compensation.
So willful, Yūki thought, waving a hand.
"Fine. Then let me give you a blessing."
"A blessing?"
"I hope your future won't separate you from the people who matter to you— and that you won't end up hospitalized like me."
"…"
"Don't look at me like that. It's not just a blessing—it's a prophecy!"
"What are you, an urban legend…"
One of Kanbuzi City's urban legends was "the Mother of Kanbuzi," said to accurately foresee the future. That was probably what Shiki meant.
Yūki certainly wasn't anything so grand. For him, that "prophecy" was something he'd have to make real—the same way he'd once faced the real estate bubble: by planning and acting, bit by bit.
If things went well, he would guide his childhood friend safely through high school. Araya's crisis would pass without Shiki ever learning the truth. She would never endure a fatal separation from her other half, never kill anyone—just live an ordinary, stable life.
Shiki couldn't sense the weight behind those words. And Yūki didn't think she needed to.
If Shiki learned he knew about "Shiki's" other self, it would only create trouble.
And even if that prophecy would make Shiki's life far too plain to be "a story," if Kokutō were here, he'd agree with Yūki's choice.
They chatted idly as they enjoyed the quiet walk home. Once they reached the Asagami residence, Shiki would pack up the things she'd left while staying over, say hello to Fujino, and go home.
After all—no matter what—you didn't "live under one roof" with a boy. Shiki wasn't an ordinary high school girl, but there was no reason she'd be relaxed enough for that.
"…."
That was what Yūki was thinking when the easy mood suddenly congealed. Shiki stopped without a word. Yūki stopped too—and immediately understood why.
[Ding]
A thick stench of blood made Yūki's stomach churn, dredging up the memory of the night he'd first crossed into the "non-ordinary."
"Over there…"
Shiki quickened her pace toward the smell. Yūki didn't hesitate—he followed.
They turned off the main road onto a narrow path few people used. Soon, they found the source.
A gap between a convenience store and a residential building. The space was crammed with junk—trash, scraps, and discarded cardboard stained dark red.
A male corpse lay scattered among it.
The body—along with its limbs—was strewn like refuse.
-------
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