Adachi to Shimamura - Volume 2 - Chapter 2.2

Bonus chapter: "Meat Shop: The Visitor" 

A customer came in, looking for minced meat cutlets. As I'd always been taught to live an honest life, I told them that they were on sale at the supermarket on the other side of the road. This, however, earned me a smack on the head by my father. It seemed that even honesty had its limits. Another lesson learned. 
When was he going to realise that it was a mistake to leave me tending the store? 
The final exams were just around the corner, yet he was still making me help him. Something about that didn't feel right. Don't get me wrong, even if he hadn't made me help him, I wouldn't have spent that time studying. No, I was feeling quite tired, and as such, I most likely would've crawled under the kotatsu and simply idled away. Was that why he had done it, because he'd seen my true intentions? 
"Ah, she came again", I exclaimed as I saw a small person slipping through the alley between the bankrupt tobacco store directly in front of us and the building next to it. A girl with blue hair. She hopped inside, waving both of her hands above her head. This person had started visiting our store regularly some time ago, and these days, it was rare for there to be a night that she didn't come to buy something. And by "something", I mean the same thing every time. 
The girl stood on her tiptoes and lifted three of her stubby fingers. 
"Three croquettes, please." 
"The usual, huh?" 
This time, I didn't mention the supermarket. I forwarded the order to my father, who then took the croquettes—deep-fried just now—and placed them in a box. I handed the container to the girl, along with the change, and she immediately took out one of them and began eating it on the spot. I could hear her munching as she once again disappeared into the darkness of the alleyway. 
Seeing how she came to buy croquettes pretty much daily, the only two possibilities I could think of were that she was either buying them as a snack, or running an errand for her folks. Which one was it, I wonder? 
Regardless of the frequency of her visits, Father clearly still wasn't used to seeing her. His movements grew stiff and awkward whenever she showed up. 
Oh, and I should mention, the girl appeared to be friends with Hino. She sure had a lot of weird friends, didn't she? Of course, I wasn't one of them. No, I was normal. 
Mother had finished whatever housework she'd been busy with and was ready to take my place, and I was told that I could go back. Being the honest person I was, I did just that. Not before extending my neck and looking up at the sign above my head, though. 
"Nagafuji Meat". That's what was written on it. I had been commonly referred to as "Meatfuji" in both elementary and grade school, and that sign was likely to be blamed. Staring at it for too long would get me hungry, which is why I decided to cut it short and hurry inside. 
I exited the store, took off my shoes, and entered the living room. 
Afternoon was when every last corner of our house was filled with the smell of fried food, and it was already way past that. Though I was personally used to the smell and didn't mind it at all, many of my friends said that they found it unbearable. Speaking of which, one of those aforementioned friends just so happened to be present. 
She was lying shoulders-deep under the kotatsu, watching TV with a bowl of red kidney beans in her hand. Not even bothering to get up, she turned towards me before sticking out the now-empty styrofoam container, shamelessly asking for more with her eyes and her wide grin. 
"Seconds!" 
"Go home." 
I brushed her demand aside and placed my feet under the kotatsu from the other end. Hino once again turned to face the TV. 
Why was she always at our house? I distinctively remembered it having started the very first day of preschool. We'd played together, and before I knew it, she had been over at our place, eating croquettes. While I had long since forgotten which one of us had spoken to the other first, I did know that we used to call each other by our given names back then. That, or various nicknames derived from them. Anyway, somewhere around the second year of elementary school we had switched to our last names, and those were what we'd been using ever since. 
Hino had been small from the start. Not once had she surpassed my height. 
"I wonder why you never grow big, Hino." 
"Oh, you're picking a fight?" 
She placed her hand on her chest, but I simply brushed it off, choosing to stare at her instead. She had always preferred fish to meat. Was that really what set us apart, fish? Hmm, interesting. Still, my mother loved fish, and she was pretty big. Maybe it was motivation? Not that it really mattered whether Hino was big or small. We'd be walking side by side regardless, and as such, there was no need to look for an answer. 
Speaking of which, I know it's been years, but I just realised that she'd told me her first name almost immediately after we met in preschool. I'd likely been the first friend she'd ever made, and it had gotten her really happy. That seemed to make sense. Anyway, she'd quickly grown used to the smell of fried food, though I wasn't exactly grateful for that. 

After all, it meant not being able to read the atmosphere. 
"Hino, you ever forget my first name?" 
"I knew it. You do think I'm an idiot." 
She sat up. With her jaw resting against the table-part of the kotatsu, she stared at me. It was common for her to misinterpret my statements and take them that way. Incidentally, I was at times treated like an idiot myself. I wonder why that was. 
"That reminds me..." 
I'd remembered something while thinking about the past. How nostalgic. 
Still, thinking about it, was there something more to it? Alright, let's try it out. 
"Hino, come here." 
I got out from under the kotatsu and beckoned her to me. While at it, I took my glasses off. After all, I hadn't worn them back then. 
"Huh? What? Are you going to give me something?" 
"Yep, I am." 
"Ooh, really?" 
She immediately pulled herself out from under the kotatsu and crawled next to me. Most likely, she was hoping for a second serving of red beans or something. What an utterly hopeless person, I thought as I reached for her brow. 
"Oh?" 
I brushed her hair aside and placed my lips on her tiny forehead. It was just as hard as back then. 
Also, it felt slightly cold. Well, it was winter, I suppose. 
For a moment, Hino sat there, frozen in place, but as I began moving my tongue against her skin, she quickly bent her body and distanced herself from me. A hand once against pressed against her forehead, but this time it was her own. She was clearly flustered. Not quite the same reaction as back then. No, back then, she'd kissed me back, shouting "revenge". Looking back to it, it felt like we'd spent entire days doing that. 
"Wh-What are you doing?" 
"I just remembered how we used to do this all the time when we were kids." 
"We did? Oh, I... I guess..." 
Her eyes jumped around, and it was hard to tell what sort of expression she was trying to show on her face. 
"Still, the past is the past. We aren't... kids anymore..." 
"Has something changed?" I asked. Hino remained silent. Her eyes moved slowly from left to right, after which she dropped her shoulders, as if having lost all of her strength. 
"...No, nothing has changed." 
"That makes two of us then." 
With her hand still on her forehead, Hino laughed. 
Watching her, I felt like I finally understood it. 
While I might not have been able to read the atmosphere, I could most definitely tell the temperature with my skin.