Denpa Onna to Seishun Otoko - Volume 3 - Chapter 1

Was it a ball or a strike? I had no idea, so I just swung.

In order to make maximum contact to the low-flying straight, I adjusted the degree.

It didn’t miss, but neither did it make a resounding hit to the centre — a roll to the third base. The third baseman, a businessman-looking guy with glasses, gingerly picked up the ball and tossed it to first base.

The unusually enthusiastic me was easily taken out. Sadly, my second batting ended there. I took off the helmet and jostled back to the resting area.

Well, whatever. The certain someone who was recruited to work as a bakery’s assistant might just be more beneficial to the team than I am. ^[1]

…Like so, the second day of summer began. I immediately joined the amateur baseball team; after getting that invitation from Maekawa-san yesterday, I thought I should always try new things out. Because of that, I headed toward the river bank early this morning.

Within the first two days of break, I secretly went to a batting cage and practised catch-and-throw with a wall. Don’t tell anybody.

Since the sun was only peeking out, the time was perfect for doing outdoor things. I even saw sleepy grade schoolers on their way to do their radio callisthenic. Now that it’s been mentioned, it reminded me of waking up early during the summer when the activity was still half-mandatory — some such nostalgia swelled.^[2]

The bank had not have its pebbles and weed removed, so running was easy. If a ball were to ever fall into the river, it’d be considered a home run; since there was quite a distance from the outfield to the water, I don’t think any one of us amateurs could ever hit it that far. The ball might just end up in there if it could somehow miraculously fly along the foul line without any interruption.

Despite the sun being at a low angle, my scalps still perspired as the exercise proceeded. What reminded my skin during this time was not the searing heat of desert, but of the past rain season.

Returning from home base to the resting area, I heard the older people saying ‘good job,’ and stopped in the front of my acquaintance.

“What a shame, transfer student.”

Out of concern, I relented… Still, I took a seat next to Maekawa-san. She wasn’t personally participating in the game: she claimed that ‘she was the girl manager.’ If that’s the case, could you please have on the proper attire? I prayed.

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Nah, I think it’s pretty impressive even if you only chipped the ball.”

She shuffled the… left and right. I don’t want to expose what the ‘things’ are yet. If possible, I’d like to keep ignoring the fact and never mention it again; hence I kept Maekawa-san out of my sight and stared obliviously at the field.

Our opponent was the city side’s team. Since we, the shopping district, don’t get along well with them, both sides were fairly zealous… Well, not really: we were all just having fun. Though we were losing by two points, there hadn’t been complaints yet. In fact, you could even hear laughter. Excluding me and Maekawa-san, this is an old-men team with the youngest member being twenty five. I guess they don’t really care about winning or losing..

No uniforms either — everyone wore casuals.

“It’s only the third day anyway; nothing is set in stone. What matters, though, is in three weeks.” Even with her smile, I still failed to understand what Maekawa-san was saying.

In any case, the pitcher over there was a girl. She’s probably in high school like I am, but her pitch was rather strange: first, she twists her arm toward the left; then she curves it rightward to make an 8 shape. Finally, she released with an underhand. It looks like a softball pitch, but since I’ve only heard of the arm-spin style, I don’t know for sure. It’s just that it’s hard to time the swing, and I’m often too late.

From being struck out during my first batting, I tried swinging earlier. The result was a roll. At least, when compared to the 100kmph ball at the batting cage, her pitches are trickier.

By the way, about her wearing the uniform — it must have been tricky for the older guys too in a different way. Like the skirt fluttering. What stood out the most to me, though, was her rubbing her eyes listlessly, as if she was forced to show up. No, I’m not kidding. Still, what a masterpiece it is to see a girl in summer uniform bustling in a baseball field~ Credits will still be given where it’s due.

“She’s from our school, isn’t she?” Judging from the uniform.

“Yep. The captain of our softball club… I don’t remember her name. We’ve only met once last year when I joined for a while. I think she’s called Hana…zawa?”

Even though she was staring daggers at the person on that hill, her tone sounded equivocal.

“…Was that who your outfit reminded you of?”

“Yep.”

“……” The stance of ignorance has reached its limit. So, we shall talk about ‘it.’

Maekawa-san was wearing a fish costume today.

Since her face was poking out of the giant mouth, she looked like she was about to be devoured from the side.

At first, when I got here and saw her, I almost asked the fish store’s owner ‘what do ya think about this?’ But neither the shopping district people nor those of the city side paid any particular attention to Maekawa-san — they’re probably used to it. Maybe they see her as the mascot of a professional team?

Another pair of eyes followed us for a different reason… Maekawa-san didn’t care, so I followed suit.

“What do you call this outfit?”

“Katsuo.”

“……” I intentionally said nothing. It’s not like I’m Nakajima.^[3]

The fins seem to be where the arms are. Even though she flapped her arms about, I pretended to not see.

I know Maekawa-san is a little loose upstairs, but from our exams last semester I know she’s better than Ryuushi-san and I when it comes to academics. She’s also created a new historical record in the P.E exams — the kind you shouldn’t be proud of.

“This is the ‘one-handed-fishing’ type.”

“I don’t see what’s so different.” I can’t even fathom what the other kinds look like.

“What do you think of the match so far?”

“Weird. I feel like the girl in yukata from last time seemed to be more enthusiastic about this than I am.” I sensed extreme enjoyment of baseball from that girl.

“Girl, huh…?”

The face hiding inside the mouth grinned mischievously. The surreality of this whole thing pinnacled with the bonito’s inorganic eyes that focused nowhere.

The white ball flying out from the hand of Hanazawa-san (subject to change) shot toward the third batter (I was second)… Yamamoto-san? The rocket guy we met at the beach during June (he was the other helper brought by the man who owns the Yakitori shop). It went by the bat and landed in the catcher’s gloves gracefully. Top of fourth inning, 3 strikeouts on the third bat. In other words, no one made it to first base.

“Change~ Keep it up with the defence too.”

The fins encouraged me on the way out. If she could wearing something like a team uniform and sit at the resting area with arms crossed, instead of that out-of-place seafood outfit (that doesn’t mean I want her to wear river fish outfit though) she might have the air of a beautiful lady coach instead.

I thought it was wasteful, but also ‘well, it’s more Maekawa-esque this way, right?’ Thus begin the stage of acceptance. I struggled to put together a conclusion under the chaotic thoughts; grabbing the gloves lent to me, I stood from the bench.

“I suck at defence; don’t count on it.”

“Ahahah, you’re so pessimistic, transfer student. I bet you’re like an esper who refuses to go to a TV show but likes to point and yell at a TV screen.”

Getting to point Z from A. I had hoped that she would at least call me ‘humble,’ or that I have a clear understanding of how good I am: I’m just aware that I can’t fully rely on my hidden potential, and that’s worked out so far. That’s why when I first met Erio I… Well, it really doesn’t matter now.

As for the TV thing, it’s mostly correct, though I do try not to talk to myself. I was, therefore, shocked — Maekawa-san’s keen eye is not to be underestimated. Still, she should probably start reflecting about herself.

I jogged toward the infield and stood at first base. I actually wanted to be at this position the least — the chance of encountering the ball is, after all, the highest. For someone who rarely play catch ball, just when would I miss a throw, or simply fall backward? The anxiety was killing me.

Luckily, I can still perform the act of catching a ball. So far, no obvious mishaps.

Show me what you got! I knocked on the glove, waiting for it to end peacefully. By it, I don’t mean just one thing.

Continuing the last inning, the person standing on the hill would appear to be Maekawa-san’s ‘pops.’ According to prior observation, no one else could have been staring holes into me, who sat next to his daughter at the resting area. Just before the game, Maekawa-san introduced me to the team: “This is my friend. His name is, uh, Shiwa-kun.” I thought I said Niwa~! Ignore the horribly mistaken name that would seemingly make me thirty years older — a dad witnessing his daughter bringing a guy along: imagine how shocked he was. It’s no wonder he didn’t think I was ‘just a friend.’

His jaw looked like it would fall onto the ground. I didn’t know how to react, so I kept a dumbfound look on. That’s probably why the misunderstanding was so severe. My attitude was kinda like ‘the boyfriend who was suddenly introduced to his girlfriend’s dad,’ huh. Now that I'm thinking about it, I’m agonizing over my failure.

In the dad’s brain, the misunderstanding is going to transform like a three-stage monster: ‘friend -> boyfriend -> wuss.” The possibility was not entirely deniable.

And perhaps because of that whole thing, Maekawa-san’s dad had terrible control of his pitches. Maybe the batters were scared of almost being shot? It’s kind of funny how the score difference didn’t get any bigger — not so much when someone is glaring at me from the side.

Maekawa-san didn't seem to mind, though, kicking her flippers against the ground. After making eye contact with me, her already-sharp eyes squinted even more. Though difficult to tell from under the shade, she seemed to be smiling. I smiled back and lightly waved my left hand.

Stepping onto the first base from four balls, the boy who never swung his bat took off his helmet. He turned and glanced at me, unveiling a cordial smile.

It looks like the only high schoolers on that team were also just Hanazawa-san and this guy. He had a head of blonde hair, giving off the air of a cool bro-type person: in all, he seem like an amicable guy.

And I suppose that's why? Even when he spoke to me, who belonged on the other team, it seemed neither hostile nor startling.

“Did you know?” The guy I've never met before easily produced a sentence ending with a question mark.

“Know what?” I kept my eyes toward the batter while asking him to reveal the mystery.

“About our pitcher.”

“Hm.” Hanazawa-san, right?

“If you stand on the left side of the batter's box, you can see beneath her skirt.”

“...For real?” I had to turn around and ask.

“Course not.”

He displayed a free-flowing attitude and exposed the punchline.

...Oho, is this a ritual?

It's a way to ascertain whether the other person is a friend, or someone who can't be spoken freely with: students came up with it to see if they can get along. Simply put, it's a signal for me to make my move.

I put on a smile after receiving it. Youth can also be obtained from a guy friend.

“I'm Nakajima. You?”

There it is, Nakajima. He may be on the other team, but the sense of miraculous meeting with the perfect side characters diffused in my chest. Needless to say, he had no clue about my excitement behind the silence. Nakajima, who observed me without any lenses, suspiciously titled his head; frantically, I told him my name.

“Niwa Makoto.” I thought about calling myself Isono, but since there's already a Katsuo, I'm going to stop myself.^[4]

“I knew it — you're that transfer student.”

“Does that mean we go to the same school?”

“Yeah. Different class though.”

Nakajima reached his kind-looking right hand toward me; despite it being the middle of a match, I shook hand with him. If I remember correctly, the rules in baseball are that you're not supposed to be too friendly with your opponents. Well no, maybe just in some manga… Or maybe not? I thought while the two sweaty hands made contact. Nakajima had short fingers, but his palm was bigger than mine.

But wait, it's already been a semester since I transferred here. Yet the name 'transfer student' is still circulating. The expiration date of my well-known status is truly astonishing.

It’s not like the fact that I transferred here is enough to shock the school that much. Well, middle school aside, I guess it is rarer to transfer after high school. Besides, I do secretly hold the fuse to scandals.

Touwa Erio. If our relationship were to be divulged, yet another fire may rise among the class. The same metaphor applies even for how news spread in a school: in just the blink of an eye, you will no longer have an escape.

…Nothing much can be done to that, though. Either way, I already know my answer. Still, I’m apprehensive to the thought.

“What dragged ya here, transfer student?”

With a bit of a dialect, Nakakjima asked the reason of my presence. After making sure Maekawa Dad’s stiff pitch ended up as a strike, I spoke.

“Nothing. Maekawa-san told me to.”

“Oh~ You’re pretty close, huh,”

He gracefully painted his face full of obscene curiosity, arbitrarily postulating me and Maekawa-san’s friendship. I hope he’d stop: if it were to make it into Maekawa dad’s ears, he might just take the anger out on me.

“But I thought you were…?”

“Hm?”

“Oh, uh… Well, I just thought you are into weird girls.”

“I do not hold romantic feelings for sea creatures.”

Though I love deep sea fishes, it’s like viewing an artistic masterpiece… That’s still a bit too much though, since we’re talking animals. Similar to defining emotion, it is a situation that no amount of contemplation would yield an answer.

Like attempting to check your own back, only anxiety would culminate.

“Ohoh, is your magnanimity why you’re so popular, master?”

“That’s totally not what I said, but what about you? I really want to learn how to have a good-looking face like yours.”

Nakajima laughed, seemingly awkwardly, after my retort. Did I step on a landmine? Maybe he thinks his face isn’t good-looking at all… If he does then the other guys would probably stone him.

“You live around the shopping districts, right? Since you’re on that side…”

Nakajima moved the conversation along calmly. “I wonder~” While watching Maekawa Dad’s third pitch become a passed ball and the catcher franticly going after it, I gave an equivocal response.

“If we’re talking about where I live, then I’d say the city. However.”

“However?”

The Touwa would probably be on the same side as Tamura Obaa-san. But am I part of the Touwa family?

“My~ Silly Mako-kun! So polite and so shy! You have to make your heart the same as your eyes that screams ‘My’ instead of ‘Miss’ and become Touwa Makoto! Marriage YES!”

Some voice I’m hearing. It’s supposed to be just imagination, but the sound is really driving me nuts.

So there’s the whole shopping district vs city thing, huh?

Might as well ask the guy who seems mostly neutral.

“Is regional rivalry actually a thing here in this town?”

“A lot of people live here: there are those who do, but many don’t care either way.”

I’m probably the latter, Nakajima shrugged as he added. “There are kids at school who were bullied for that stuff though.” His tone was as though discussing other countries’ problems: lacking emotions, like a comment with no sense of reality. I, too, glossed over with a ‘oh.’

But I also think that if we can create a society free of discrimination, humans can at least survive for another 30,000 years. Or maybe because ‘bullying’ exists as an outlet, things around get done?

“But it’s the worst during the time between big events. Especially now.”

“Hm?”

“Because it’s a mess every year during the summer festival.”

That’s why we play ball, Nakajima mumbled enigmatically. I didn’t understand what he meant, so I’ll leave it for now. Summer festival — the dream of youth. The candidates for my partner… Three people? Erio included. If I were to say that the momentary thought didn’t contain any lies, I’d be helpless. Well actually, it wouldn’t be a problem, right? As usual, I will ignore the omen-like whisper. No, I can’t. For some mysterious reason, I just cannot accept the notion.

There are certain secrets and hidden thoughts.

I respect the heart that refuses to admit these things — even if it means the loss of youth points.

Pointlessly, I fought against something.

Spending time calculating the probability of Maekawa-san sincerely dressing up with a Yukata might just be… just as pointless.

“Oh, um.”

Still stuck at first base, Nakajima spoke slightly hesitantly.

“Hm?”

“I’m a little too polite, aren’t I?”

“Too polite… Hm, just a bit.” He certainly sounded distant.

“To be honest, I thought that if I started something too serious, I’d ruin whatever flow we got going.”

'But I still wanted to try.' Like a dishonest girl, Nakajima explained to me his motivation and the reason for his tone. Please don’t do this to me.

I had thought that the reason of such awkwardness is because we just met, but there seemed to be another reason.

“Don’t you have something you wanna say to me?” He might be interested in Maekawa-san.

“Don’t sweat it: the fun of choices is also in pretending the meeting by chance didn’t happen.”

As if peering at something bright, Nakajima squinted while glancing around.

“Our pitcher is really damn good, huh.”

Again with the mental gymnastic. Completely irrelevant. Do I not have the right to cast the die?

“I can never hit her pitches.”

As I declared my defeat, Nakajima shot me a stray smile and gunned toward the second base. What just happened?! My eyes followed him blindly. Well, it’s just a steal. A failed steal.

The catcher, guy who runs the flower shop, seemed prideful of his right shoulder. It must be rare for an amateur to stop a steal. He’s even hugging it out with Maekawa dad. It’s like the game’s over or something.

So this was an amateur game that allows for base stealing? Well, the kids’ rule of ‘five out-of-bounds equals strike’ should be a tell-tale sign of how liberal the rules are.

Nakajima beamed an embarrassed smile, mostly toward me, while moving closer to the resting area. I didn’t know how to react to that, so I simply smiled.

“…Sigh.” I exhaled, looking toward the ascending summer sun.

Like so, I played a game of baseball.

A random group competition nowhere close to sweat, tear and Koushi-en.^[5]

Will I list this as part of the daily life of summer? I’ve yet to decide.

In accordance the rules of the game, the competition ended at the sixth innings. The result: 3 — 0. A complete defeat on our part.

Or we can call it an utter wreckage, since not one of us made it onto a base, making it a perfect game.

Hanazawa-san had on her face still an inpatient look, apathetic to the result.

As for me, setting my batting record aside, I've gotten compliments from the old guys… My smile? Half and half of courtesy and sourness, maybe even a little awkward.

A couple of lame bow, and then we were done for the day… That would have been the idea, but the losers apparently have to clean the field out of tradition, so we're far from finished. According to the guys, 'we're gettin' better at cleanin' than baseballin'!' So they've been on a losing streak?

“See ya.” After packing up, Nakajima came to say bye before leaving the bank. “Bye.” Seeing my brief response, he scurried over to a bicycle. Was he being held up? Now that I think about it, I still don't get why he came by.

Following that, while I was cleaning the field with those one of those long-shafted tools, the rocket guy came to talk to me. It's Yamamoto-san. That's what Meme-san calls him, but is it really his name?

“Hey, you are… The boy living in Touwa Meme's house?'

“I am.” Space stalker + Maekawa-san's fan, as well as Meme-san's friend — quite a colourful resume. I think I would prefer to not know the full content of it though.

“How's Meme doing?”

“If you can call a forty year old women who acts like a five or six year old 'energetic,' then she is doing very well.”

She even eats the same thing as Erio and I, so just how efficient is her mileage? I could only think that she must have taken the energy drained from others and threw it into the burner.

“Did she, mention anything about me?”

With an anticipating and fidgety demeanour, he asked. Hey hey hey, is this dude...?

“Nope, nothing.”

Since whenever she won't shut up, I just ignore half of what she says; she might have mentioned Yamamoto-san somewhere along the line, but I have decided to not give hope with any false information. “I see.” Yamamoto-san clearly looked disappointed, shoulders slouching. Now I'm sure.

I didn't think he is so loyal to Meme-san… Their age is close, and I will admit Meme-san looks really young for a forty year old… Well, whatever. I'm not so dense as to ruin someone else's love life. My aunt sure is popular.

But I just couldn't imagine the sight of some guy next to Meme-san, sitting around the table in the Touwa Household.

Yamamoto-san shambled away like the summer heat, beginning the act of picking up rocks. What happened next was the sneaky… I didn't hear it or anything, but I felt it. By then I was already used to it. But I pretended to have not notice: please ask your own daughter about our relationship.

Clean up complete. With my arm, I swiped away more sweat than from during the game while leaving the field. Because Maekawa-san was still sitting in the resting area, I decided to go over with the intent of saying bye before heading home.

“Well done, transfer students.”

Maekawa-san gave me her consolation, at the same time handing three triangular objects wrapped in plastic wrap on her fin.

“What is this?”

“Rice balls.”

“No, I don't mean that.”

“I made these for your breakfast~”

“Oh~” I was quietly moved by the reward for joining this amateur baseball game.

I can't believe I got handmade breakfast from a classmate — truly, it was serendipity.

Visually speaking, it was like getting a pearl from a dolphin I saved. Despite knowing that Maekawa Dad will only glare harder, I still gratefully accepted them and peeled the wrap off, all the while taking a seat next to Maekawa-san.^[6]

Enjoying the classmate's — no, self-proclaimed manager's handmade rice balls after a baseball game: it's nothing innovative, but certainly a steady development of youth. I guess it's about +2 points.

Meanwhile I kept an eye on her father's watchful stares — perhaps things will actually go to a better direction. The joy of hiding behind grown-ups and enjoying the mischief flared.

In the first rice ball was a slightly-sweet sauce.

“Ah, it's eel.”

“Just some stuff left in the shop.”

“Haven't had it in a while.” Tastes good. “And there is this, uh, what do you call it, the eel dish here.”

“Hitsu-mabushi.”

“Yeah, that stuff.”

“I think it's actually something you can buy everywhere now.”

“Here.” Maekawa-san watched me eat, and handed a thermos to me. If the fin could be removed, everything would be perfect. “Thanks.” I took the bottle and poured the cold drink into my cup, before emptying it in one gulp. Ahh, a cup of tea after cleaning up tastes so good. So what was I planning on doing again?

“So why did you make rice balls for me?”

“It's thanks for your work. Rice (nice) job.”

“Work? You're kidding, right? All I did was roll the ball.”

“Nah, you made the ball roll forward.”

“Well yeah. If it went backward it would have been a foul.”

“That's not what I'm saying, transfer student. You're just too shy.”

Maekawa-san gently shut her eyes with the embracing smile of a guardian. If it weren't for the bonito's dead-eye, it would have been a praise-worthy sight.

'Maekawa-san gently shut her eyes with the embracing smile of a guardian. If it weren't for the bonito's dead-eye, it would have been a praise-worthy sight.'

You could say it's befitting of Maekawa-san though.

The content in my pocket shook, emitting a muffled synthetic sound. “Oh, a mail.”

“My guess is Ryuushi.”

“Not telling.” She’s probably correct though.

I shoved the last bit of the rice ball into my mouth before taking the phone out of my pocket. Today would probably be a day full of mails — I brought my phone under the assumption. I didn’t take it out during defence either: what would I do if I had to pounce to the sides? Despite it being my own issue, I thought of it from an outsider's view.

In the span of two days there were about thirty or so messages saved in the mailbox. Like fruits during a harvest, their chance of appearance exploded. I maximized the mail’s content.

‘Mornin’~ Are ya up yet, Niwa-kun? Soz if not. I just woke up~’

A trivial but cute message; a normal message that is the polar opposite of Meme-san’s overly abstract ‘shuu~ bang~’ message.

I checked the time as well: it’s just passed eight o’ clock. From the previous emails, it can be deduced that Ryuushi-san usually wakes up around this time during breaks.

Ryuushi-san never uses emoticons in her mails. The reason being ‘if everyone’s using it, it’s not hip any more~ Being a chara-hunta, that’s a big no-no.’^[7]

Or maybe because others girls have stopped using it too? I don’t have the galls to ask something like that. With a bit of effort, I replied firmly, ‘I’m up already. Good morning.’

“What a boring reply.”

“Uwah!” The fish on the side disapproved its entertainment value.

“Don’t you plan on writing something that would make Ryuushi laugh?”

“If I do, she would try to one-up me and crash and burn.”

Not even kidding — she lost about four hours of sleep a couple of days ago.

Upon hearing that, Maekawa-san raised the corner of her mouth amusedly.

“Fine. I guess it is a little too demanding to expect her to write well.”

She nonchalantly said something rude. I reached for the second rice ball and asked.

“Have you and Ryuushi-san texted each other at all?”

“Nope, none whatsoever. Ryuushi never sent me a thing.”

“Oh… Hm?”

I sensed a gaze different from Maekawa dad’s. Looking up, it was from Hanazawa-san, who had yet to return home, staring from a distance away. Actually, following her line of sight it was probably the rice ball on my hand. “Give me rice ball.” If her eyes could speak, the message would probably be summarized with these four words. Perhaps because of our eye contact, Hanazawa-san stepped toward this direction.

If this were a fairy tale, I’d probably have some good luck if I share a rice ball with her.

I looked over at Maekawa-san; she seemed to have noticed and gave a fast reply:

“It’s already yours, transfer student. It up to you to keep it or give it.”

“Hm~” She pushed the liability back to me. But to give Maekawa-san’s rice ball to someone else…

Meme-san’s breakfast awaits me when I return. If I refuse to sit down at the table, she’ll probably throw a tantrum. Or maybe she’d call my mother, saying stuff like ‘Mako-kun is so rebellious! He’s been holding back too hard on being an Oba-con and now he’s fallen to sniffing… Kyaah~!’ The hallucination is as strong as ever, I see.^[8]

I will probably be seen as a sniffer for the rest of my life in the Touwa family. A patch of darkness rose form my heart. Well, rest of my life meaning till I graduate high school, and after that… my parents will be back. Will I miss this place once I have to move back with my parents? Currently I am… unwilling, but not opposing.

I suppose that’s just how I am with things.

Enough about this.

Since I still have breakfast waiting for me later, two rice balls is probably enough. Even if I am in the time when I can eat a lot, I’m not some beefcake in a sports club; even that much was a little too much for me anyway.

I raised the third rice ball and beckoned. Hanazawa-san cautiously took the long road, coming from not the front but the side. Only she would know if the act was purposeful.

Looking closely, rather than Hanazawa-san, she’s more like ‘MAKO*O”. I’m not saying she looks like me, but that her short, auburn hair, and her uniform made her look like she could leap through time. Her tanned skin was also incomparable with Maekawa-san’s or mine.^[9]

“Can I?”

Her crisp, water-like whisper confirmed my conscience. Chewing the rice in my mouth, I nodded. I am a little curious about what’s in the rice ball though.

Despite being temporarily named that, she didn’t seem to have a tough personality.

“Please, Hanazawa-san.” I accidentally called her so without knowing her name.

“Thank you, Isono-san.”

The immediate reply indicated adaptability, what with the bonito on my side. So what does this make me? The guy with the long face… can’t remember his name, but the classmate that shows up every now and then.^[10]

“You should say that to my neighbour.”

I’m just the middle man. Hanazawa-san peeled the wrap away and bowed at Maekawa-san.

“Thanks, Maekawa.”

“Don’t mention it. So why are you wearing your uniform?”

“Yeah, I have club practice later.”

“Sounds rough.”

Maekawa-san earnestly sympathized; Hanazawa-san’s listless expression lowered even more.

“You can tell, huh?”

“Easily.” Maekawa-san nodded sharply. Looking at her, Hanazawa-san grinned weakly while shifting attention to me. As though explaining, she spoke.

“I don’t hate the club; it’s just too much work.”

“Oh…” With minimal reaction, I bit into the rice ball. It’s pickled eggplant this time.

Being a contrast to the sweet-and-spicy sauce from before, the taste of salt was even more accentuated.

Hanazawa-san also bit into her rice ball, chewing lightly while looking over me. Her sleeves occasionally flipped upward; the tan line could be easily seen. Am I a little weird feeling excited by this disparity of coffee and white?

“How’s the taste?”

Maeakawa-san asked for Hanazawa-san’s thought. “I might just marry into your family.”

“Mm~ that’s going to be a little hard without my dad divorcing.”

Sounded like she contemplated on that seriously.

Hanazawa stopped before the third bite; for a different reason, she opened her mouth.

“You are… Maekawa’s boyfriend?”

Cough, cough!

“Ahahahah! Hear that, transfer student?”

Am I supposed to show comprehension? I almost suffocated on the plum covered in rice. Is it really not abnormal for me to be with a fish? …That’s not the problem.

While choking on the rice, I made sure to look around. If Maekawa dad were around, I wouldn’t be too surprised if he loses his cool… Oh, he’s all the way out there. Good.

“I guess the days when the transfer student dresses up like a mackerel isn’t too far off.”

And here the daughter was, laughing at her own jokes insouciantly.

“That’s another level of bad compared to idiot couples and their matching outfits.”

“Isn’t that right. Also, the transfer student is like, um… The guy…” she rolled her eyes about. “Oh yeah! The guy who tried to drown himself.”

With fingers pointed to, I was now the suicide volunteer. “Hah?” I cocked my head quizzically, only to realize at the word ‘drown.’

Was she talking about that E.* thing that happened late April?

The day when I rode a rusty bicycle into the sea with Erio. So that’s the story that’s being passed around the school? Nakajima’s attitude makes sense now, since the name transfer student had been branded with that rumour before that status was gone.

Speaking of which, Ryuushi-san also tried to explain to me something about suicide when she visited. Well, shoot. While I was busy messing around with Ryuushi-san after school, being tricked by Maekawa-san, playing tono-san with Erio (stripping the futon off her) all while dealing with Meme-san, the rumour that I was a suicidal bastard spread in the school. I guess I slacked a little too much.

It’s fortunate that the fact that I ‘jumped with Erio’ was unmentioned, but without that I really seem straight-up done with life.

“Oh, I gotta go.” Hanazawa-san grumbled melancholily while eyeing the bike moving on the bank. “Thanks~” Jogging toward the road, she raised the rice ball in appreciation of me and Maekawa-san.

“Mhm.” Staring at her back, Maekawa-san nodded satisfactorily for some reason.

“If you don’t figure out how to deal with Hanazawa’s pitch, victory will ne’er come.”

“Um, isn’t that mission impossible?”

“The future of this team rests upon you, transfer student.”

“Um, no… Not possible. What’s an amateur like me gonna do?”

And we all are. With no regard to me, Maekawa-san smiled joyfully.

“Even if you suck, just fake it till you make it, am I right?”

I almost choked again listening to the statement that almost sounded like an indirect criticism; I took the tea Maekawa-san passed over and washed the rice down. After two more coughs, I replied.

“I just can’t do it.”

“I see. Makes sense.”

Maekawa-san’s jaw shrunk with the bonito’s costume.

“Seems like you’re the type of person who will refuse to start anything.”

She commented on my character, as though able to discern the essence of it. Bullseye — I could only reply with painful silence. As if she saw through me, Maekwa-san continued.

It's neither good nor bad about my personality.

“Will you still join us next time?”

Or rather, it had nothing to do with whatever she said earlier.

“Next time, the transfer student and his shocking development! — You can’t say for sure that that won’t happen next time, right?” The hell did she say?

Sure thing~ I could only mumble, unable to showed definite interest in joining.

Why did I join an amateur baseball team? I’m not some top player — just some guy who came to fill the spot.

Maekawa-san’s invitation was an extrinsic reason that had nothing to do with me.

Hm.

I have to use a different reason. And it’s true: a girl’s request is hard to refuse.

In the end.

“…Only if I can eat you handmade rice balls next time.”

I couldn’t say no to my materialistic desire.

As I closed to home, the cicadas were already screaming deafening noise along the road.

After pushing the bicycle into the Touwa’s, I saw Erio at the corner of the yard doing the radio callisthenic.

“Chang~ Chang~ Kachang~ Chawang~ Changi~ Chakachang~ Chang…”

Even though there wasn’t a radio. As expected of the delusional girl, who can easily replace a radio…? The melody that she sung to herself while happily exercising… Hmmm.

The movement and singing that brought out her tender qualities almost made me think her cute.

She wore a white one-piece today with no futon. The self-deception didn’t work today: the sun drove her away from that heat.

“Chang~ Chang chang~ Chang chang~ chang chang~”

Chang chang chang~ Even I hummed along. And she caught me. Erio flung her hair; traces of the particles shot out as she turned. Every time when they fade or reappear, the world around her will shimmer along.

“Yo.”

“Morning, cousin.”

Neither shied nor shaken. I would have been crushed by the embarrassment if we were flipped — I would have been able to sympathize with Erio’s hiding in futon.

Erio moved closer, stepping on the rampant weed on her bare feet. Ah~ she ran out again without her shoes. She’s already been a student, so why does she still refuse to wear shoes?

“Where have you been?”

“The river. We went to play baseball.”

“Baseball.”

A naive repetition. She increased the frequency of blinks, staring at me with flickering eyes. She’s not thinking ‘the cousin doesn’t go with baseball~’ right?

I gazed at her mysterious eyeballs; occasionally I think that maybe she could see things that I can’t, which is why the whole alien thing happened… Well, now’s not the time for those kind of dreams. “Well then.” Please go on with your exercise. I reminded her while pushing the bicycle.

The wheels cranked, the mud and grass it rolled over sung gently. Then the sound of footsteps came; I looked back, and an azure burned into my retina.

I thought the hair was water or waves, with fishes swimming within.

For some reason she pulled on my neck and called 'cousin.' You could have at least pulled on my sleeve or something! “What?”

“Tonight too.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

I immediately realized her intention and replied quickly. Erio's request for this summer, particular during the night, is to star gaze. Since she came to me, it must mean that the weather will be clear the entire day. At the moment, Erio is the person most concerned about news right now. Unlike when we first met, she no longer tries to receive intelligence from white noises of the screen.

“Are you done?”

“Mm.” She flexed her biceps to visually assent that she's done… What a twig-looking arm.

Like a child who couldn't wait to see her favourite weekly show, Erio happily looked up to me with a big smile. Every time when I answer yes to helping her out with that summer-project-wannabe, she will unconditionally beam at me that heart-skipping particle grin. And every time, I would refuse to look straight at her.

Looking at her directly made me feel like a part of my head would spin uncontrollably.

My phone shook from the signal that hail from a distance. Is it Ryuushi-san's mail? ...It indeed was.

“What the heck! The breakfast was ham and egg! I am under a starving attack!”

There's a picture attached too: a white patternless plate with cherry tomatoes, scrambled eggs, ham laid out like the three kingdoms on the edge of the plate. From the blurry image, I could tell it's an alluring colour.

But for a self-proclaimed fruitarian, this must have been a difficult set up.

If — and I mean if — I get the chance to eat with Ryuushi-san during the break, I must pick the restaurant carefully. But I remember her saying something about noodles being okay.

As for my reply… “It's almost Obon, so the Wasteful Spirits will show up. Just try your best!” The text does feel a bit ad lib, but almost detached; yet, I sent it just the way it was.^[11]

“The cousin, likes baseball?”

I put the bicycle back into the storage; after coming out, I was flung an unexpected question by Erio who seemed to be blocking the entrance. Oh man. With the slight surprise of a parent enjoying his child's strange behaviour, I looked to Erio's eyes. She seemed upset, twiddling her hair while faced down.

I remember asking her the same question unwittingly before.

“Are you interested?”

Erio shook her head wildly; she then took a step back away from me.

“...Oh.”

I vaguely prodded. “Awuu, awuu!” She swung her head of long hair even faster, her face turning even redder.

She was just like someone who was embarrassed to be caught fallen asleep and somehow refuses to admit it.

So dishonest, the two of us. Is it because we're cousins?

In the end she ran away. Erio hid next to the wall and began the second part of the callisthenics, during which I kept looking. After seeing her glances, I went back into the Touwa household.

On the hallway extending from the entrance, Meme-san laid on the floor as though enjoying the coldness on the floor. Her pose was like an insincerely begging for forgiveness, with her butt up and face down. Hair spread every where on the floor, I thought it's 'now coming out from the television screen.'^[12]

If that guy saw the this scene, would his fanatically burning love freeze?

“Zzz~ Zzz~ ...Yay~ Meme-chin's won the young men's vote for the town's popularity poll… Zzz~”

“Um, I think it's only been a grand total of five second since voting started.” And you're the only one voting.

“Morning~ Mako-tan.”

With her face still kissing the floor, she asked with an obscure voice.

“...Please call me something normal.”

How come she's the only one who keeps calling me different names? Why couldn't it be my friends or Erio? It sure would suck if it's because I'm only getting along better with my aunt.

“Mako, Mako, tan-tan.”

“Sorry for making an impossible request for my abnormal aunt.”

Each person have things they can and cannot do. There are things that are inherently impossible though.

For example, flying with a bicycle.

Or arriving here from a different planet.

And me becoming a baseball game hero.

Being able to give up easily allows for a timely life with mental stability.

Suddenly, Meme-san snapped upright. The clear red marks on her face suited that airhead look of hers. It might even help cover the wrinkles — my throat will definitely be crushed if I said it.

According to Meme-san herself, she's normal about every three years. So as far as the time I will be spending here is concerned, it'll probably never happen. Just as I casually thought of a retort, Meme-san grinned tauntingly.

As though she had read my mind, she began chatting about some seemingly irrelevant things. I've gradually adapted to her unholy ability of connecting the dots. Not because this is where aliens live, but because Meme-san herself is just such a life form. My stress has gone down significantly ever since I started thinking this way.

“Hmhmhm, time actually flows differently for me.”

“I guess, since you can never get your age right.”

“How could it be! Two birthdays a year! Meaning, I'm only half my age! What~! I'm only twenty~ Aha!”

Dude! Logic! You're being too nice! Get outta there! Please send this forty year old back! You don't want to? Really?

“In, other, words! Normal Meme will be there in a year and a half, which is when Mako-kun is going to graduate! Meme's flower will once again bloom!”

“It's already faded.”^[13]

“I will steal your heart as we part!”

“I'm already ready to part.”

A (one-person)smile-filled, happy-looking (from the side) family.

Nighttime — if it were the country where I lived, it'd be the time when frogs cry.

Probably because of the lack of farm around here, other kinds of insects chirped about.

Reading a book Ryuushi-san lent me, I killed time under the suffocating heat. As the guest in the house, I refused to use the AC.

“…...” I've reached halfway.

Currently, I fear Australia: the southern hemisphere terrifies me. Reading a book like this deeply instilled a sense of regret in me, but at the same time, I've grown to learn how safe my life has been, being able to read a book in a room on a clean bed. Even though I am constantly harassed by a non-human like my aunt everyday, I would never trade this life away… And that'd be horrific if I can start seeing things that way. Personally, brainwashing should only be limited to being mesmerized by a girl.

I flipped over, grabbing onto the phone by the pillow. It's not like there's a new message, but I still checked the history every now and then; then, I'd grin smugly remembering the exchange between me and Ryuushi-san.

If there were mirrors scattered in this room, I'll probably be sick of my disgusting smile.

I opened up the reply to the message 'you can do it!' that I sent to her after she expressed her dissatisfaction with breakfast.

“Mom said the same thing. Are ya spyin' on the Mifune?”

Does she suspect me of planting a bug in her house?

Speaking of which, I haven't even been to Ryuushi-san's house. Only if I could visit in the future. Her room must be filled with the sweet scent of Ryuushi-san… I totally meant to say 'so what?'

Explaining kind of kills it, but what I meant to say it's tantalizing.

“Kousin.”

“Hah?” A familiar, futon-covered voice summoned me from the hall.

Despite it being the middle of a tropical night, the stifled-looking monster crept into the room, enveloped in her favourite Calamus-patterned futon. On the way in, half her body bumped into the unopened door along the wall, almost tipping her over.

“What's the matter, futon roll? Sports meet at the cemetery?”^[14]

An outfit that displays perseverance without the courage test, huh. Closing the book, I sat up.

“It is tiem for stergeyzing.”

I looked up to the clock, replying, “Ah~ right, it's already the time? So what's up with that getup?”

“Bug rehelant.”

“Bug repellant? Sure, keep it on.”

With no intent of pointing out the problem, I decided to head straight out. The telescope weighing over eight kilo was carried by me; Erio, who almost fell downstairs, was also transported along. The results of not being bound by futons for twenty four hours a day seemed to be the deterioration of sensation. What a useless skill she had accrued.

I held her back and made sure she put on the sandals before she flew out. The melanin-lacking skin that looked as it'd bleed when merely touched kept a strange cold… Wait, no. Why do I gotta baby her so much? It's not like we're princess and servant. Despite complaining, I did not let go of the foot in hand.

Gazing into the sky on a summer night — certainly a good development for Youth-points, yet not so much after having to take care of the cousin who's just as circuitous as her wrapped appearance… I'm not being a worry-wart, am I?

Putting on my sandals as well, I opened up the door. As far as the distance though, we're really just going outside to the yard — the yard that is crawling with a congregation of insects. The uncanny sound, when listened closely to, was as though the sight of pure whiteness will tear at the deep part of your memories. Motionless air held the remains of day, the warmth; even the sky was clear, perfect for stargazing. Though I have to admit the expression is kind of strange when the sun was absent.

Anywhere outside of the house was off-limit to Erio, the reason being Meme-san's certain orders.

It was a dialogue from a while ago. I'm guessing it was the second Sunday of May.

In the living room, Meme-san wagged her finger, 'tsk, tsk, tsk,' in front of Erio.

“You can't, Erio. When it's late in the city~” She paused and eyed over here for some reason. “There's a lotta hungry wolves waiting for a cute sheep like you~” I don't care if you want to scare her or something, but what was the look for, Oba(a)san?^[15]

“Wolf?”

Did she not understand the analogy? Erio cocked her head lightly. “Oh my~ Meme-san appeared ecstatic somehow.

“Ah~ You're just too darn pure! I just wanna to protect you!” She said so while squeezing Erio tightly. I would have pushed off right away, the weather being so damn hot, but Erio only seemed confused with a reddened face and didn't resist.

So Erio does love her mom, huh~ Is it because she only had a mom at home? Well, I guess for certain people the personality or appearance of a puppy is just their soft spot. But seriously… What an extreme niche.

Still, Erio is much more grounded now that her rebellious phase against the human race has passed, so at least she wouldn't disobey Meme Obaa-san anymore. No wonder she quietly accepted the curfew.

End flashback.

The stars in the sky could have only been observed with a telescope; their actual danger to her will not be on a physical level.

Truth to be told, that Erio, who has such good sleeping schedule after ditching her antic, probably wouldn't stay out late even after getting a little more confident. If I don't go with her then, hahaha… Uh, 'scue me? Why's the assumption that I have to do everything with her? Am I her legs?

With the rationale 'I'll deal with it later,' I tossed all sorts of worries aside before setting the telescope up. I'm not sure how I would feel carrying this humongous telescope on a hike anyhow, to be frank.

“Alright, alright, you're free to look at whatever you want.” Just not yourself.

“…...”

“...Hmghng!” Erio hopped about, twisting the entire futon around.

Looks like she had noticed how she is prevented from both the mosquitoes and actually looking at the stars. She should have realized the moment when she donned the thing.

According to herself, she's taking measures because she took too much damage from the bloodsuckers yesterday. Too bad she should have thought about using the bug spray.

I guess it's commendable to want to move forward by trying things on your own, but uh~ you can't see anything in that futon. Not exactly to be taken seriously when you can't even tell the directions.

Perhaps as a compromise, she stuck only her head out. People watching would probably think of water springing out of the ground like a flower or stem.

While maintaining the in-between of a youkai and a human, Erio took a deep breath. Whoever may be watching would definitely be able to enjoy her outlandish beauty; for Erio herself, she could enjoy the serenity that is being inside a futon, so it's a win-win situation for all. But, well, there was still a fundamental problem that still persist.

After her breathing exercise, Erio stared at the telescope, about to begin her next move.

“…...”

“…...”

“...Hng~” She wriggle within the futon. It would appear that she has fallen into quite the struggle, unable to use either hands. Oh boy, the road to space proved to be difficult. Who would have thought that her futon would be an obstacle?

Who would be seen as the crazy one, me or Erio, if future researchers were told that?

“Just come out quietly from the futon.”

“The cousin forcefully demanded me to strip.”

“Oh wow, looks like your tongue's just as sharp as your moms. Fine, you don't have to take it off, I mean we could just look at the stars in the futon.” I mean, it's such a wonderful planetarium and all.

Erio halfheartedly emerged from the futon; after folding it neatly, she returned the mattress back into the entrance. Finally, she began the preparation for stargazing. From below the scope, she adjusted the focus, angle and direction. I've heard that it's an arduous process for beginners, even with auto-adjustment, yet Erio's deft hands appeared experienced. The same could be said about her work at the Tamura Shop: setting conversation aside, she's quite the shopkeeper now for the most part. I suppose she's skilled in learning by experience.

Like taste-testing, Erio checked out the starry sky first; 'mm', she moved away from the telescope and smiled at me.

“It's there again.”

Her smile was also there again… Let's forget about that thought.

Out of all the planets, Jupiter is what Erio's currently following. Apparently it's easy to spot it during this season. Every now and then she look through the scope, all while sketching away on the notebook. Perhaps already used to sketching, her strokes were the perfect balance between speed and detail.

'Every now and then she look through the scope, all while sketching away on the notebook. Perhaps already used to sketching, her strokes were the perfect balance between speed and detail.'

I took a peak through the scope while Erio was drawing; an unfamiliar planet entered my vision. There wasn't much wind tonight, so the weather was perfect for stargazing. The telescope focused onto the sepia giant that would only appear slightly bigger than my eye if seen directly from Earth.

The spiral pattern on Jupiter's surface is called the 'Great Red Spot.' Erio told me so. Just what is the reason behind that whirl? She kind of explained in fragments on the first day, but I only remember half of it.^[16]

“Just a bit more; something cooler will show up.”

Erio interjected excitingly from the side.

“Oh~” Since I'm not the fanatic of space here, my response was only impassive.

I'm more of the deep-sea camp: compare to a surrealistically large world, I like the one that has an ending to the many mysteries — I guess for people like me, our dream has to be somewhat realistic.

Observing clearly a planet that no men has ever stepped on simply felt fantastical. I would even go as far as saying that it is no different than looking through a long tube that has pictures of Jupiter and its satellites printed and stuck on the end. Carelessly I blurted this out three days ago, promptly disappointing Erio; her obvious sigh seemed to convey 'what is this idiot saying?' Her upset expression while looking down on me was refreshing, and I guess a compliment like 'the cousin's lack of imagination is impressive' isn't exactly common either. The price to pay for not having a filter was the abundance of rare reactions.

I predicted the time when Erio stopped sketching, retracting my body like a hand during mochi-making. I am hanging out with her for sentimental purposes, but I have no love for the stars; still, it's not like I'd be doing much of anything aside from reading or watching TV if I were to refuse her offer — and I will definitely not be studying. So, from the point of 'meaningful' alone, my options don't necessarily differ.

As a side note, Meme-san joined us on the first stay, but she was annihilated by the mosquitoes, so while scratching and rubbing ointment on, she declared 'ahh, my pheromone is not only effective with Mako-kun, but with the bugs too… I'll repent for my sins!' Now she's staying indoor, lazing about where the AC's blasting.

As if unable to stand my spacing out, a synthetic ring tone squeaked from the open windows in my room on second floor. It sounded like a retro, rotary-styled phone, just shorter in duration. I realized immediately what it was.

Without looking away, Erio simply spoke.

“Phone call?”

“No, a mail.”

“From whom?”

She's being nosy somehow. “...Ryuushi-san.” Probably — most likely. Though it might also be Maekawa-san, she's also a person who'd rather call than type when she's got business. Besides, she probably wouldn't even call about the game until at least two days later.

And I've already agreed to play in the game in two days, thanks to the rice balls for breakfast and other things. And here I am thinking that kids who'd get kidnapped for food were extinct… Well, if men tricked by the feminine wile of women never disappear, than I will gladly change my thought on that.

“Ryuushi...”

She repeatedly mumbled the name, but only the pencils rustling on paper followed. It's only natural, seeing how she and Ryuushi-san had a bit of history. The danger of making friends with Erio while being in the local school — perhaps that's what she understood.

For Erio, I'm afraid it's simply withdrawal that's causing her to be so shy.

“Cousin.”

Without looking away from the telescope, Erio directly spoke my name. “Hm?”

“When will you be on TV?”

“Who are you talking about?”

It's pretty depressing that that response came before 'what are you talking about.' Do I not have any hope for myself on a TV debut? Like I said, I'm just… Hm, I think I said something along the line before…

“The cousin said, baseball in the morning.”

The conversation from this morning was revived from the graveyard of memories. Is she that interested in it? I refuted that thought right away.

“If they had time for some guys by the river, they'd probably go to the local high school team.” It's around the same time of year, too.

“Mm~” She pondered… Or at least, looked so. So that was just a way to cut into the actual topic?

“The cousin plays near the river. Amateur baseball?”

“Yeah, you've seen them before.” Erio nodded; her forehead knocked on the telescope. For the next moment she re-adjusted the angle before turning to face me. Her eyes, like the stars, glittered.

“The shopping district team?”

“Yep.” The city side probably don't want me anyway. They got enough people too.

And being on the different side with people I know is also kinda… I hadn't plan on wasting my morning hours on creating resentment or building walls.

Erio moved her face away from the telescope. From the stars above, her eyes returned onto the horizon — me. The eyes that gleamed like the surface of water made me thought that, even with heavy scrutiny, will reflect neither the scenery nor me.

She held tightly her tiny fists. On her face was the same expression when she declared her desire to work.

Next, Erio phrased the line.

“Next time, can I go too?”

The white ball tumbling to the third base replayed in my mind.

“...Baseball?”

“Is it yakyuu, or baseball? Base~ ball~?”^[17]

Why did she go as far as involving English? Wait, that's not the problem.

Erio… Wants to join team game. Is being surprised a fair reaction? What's happening?

An abstract feeling of anxiety. Like startled by the flapping of insect wings or screeches, my feet lost their holding. I feel like I want to go tell Meme-san myself. Why? Why do I feel this way?

It's not the same as the brain-numbing kind, but the guts-wrenching type. It was as if my bowel were filled with some unbelievable things.

Though not quite discomfort, this unknown sensation spreading across my body scared me.

Well, I don't have a reason to refuse. I can't say the same for others, however.

“I'll ask them. Well, um, hm, it's probably okay though. Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

The words of appreciation, that sounded like syllables put together and read separately. A voice like a text-to-speech, and a face like that — it's only natural that people thought she was an alien. If she never loudly proclaim herself as otherwise, wouldn't people all agree that she's an extraterrestrial life form? She is, in all seriousness, a person of many esoteric traits.

But setting all that aside.

Erio, she's…

Not just asking about baseball, right? There must be another reason. She's even asked to see if I was on the shopping district's team, and that must be related to that other reason.

I don't plan on getting to the bottom of it — I actually want to forget about all this, now that I might imagine of what Erio would look like standing next to that river bank. It's the only way I could hold back whatever that is coming out of my chest.

After that, Erio soundlessly gazed at Jupiter; the notebook, too, went untouched.

It ended. From her own will, Erio concluded the session.

Following the observation of Jupiter, we viewed the closest satellite — in other words, the moon. Much more interesting than Jupiter, it is my preference. When I'm done watching the moon, I'll probably retreat back into the Touwa household.

Erio will probably mess around with the stars for about an hour more afterward. Since I worry about the humidity of the night along with the bug bites, and also the feeling of being in her way, I will withdraw.

Erio set the telescope toward the moon. Watching her movement made me think of operating a machine gun or something. Meanwhile, I swatted at the bugs flying about.

“Done.” As always, reporting to me was Erio-san. “'Kay.” My nonchalant nod indicated comprehension. Now with a serious face, Erio looked at the telescope.

Then her eyes exploded.

The mouth that was shut tightly opened up, 'ah.'

“What's the matter?”

I mindlessly asked.

The next words didn't sound big or interesting.

At least for me, it's something that could be brushed aside with an 'oh.'

Yet, Erio…

As if spirited away, she slowly and firmly bit down on her mouth.

Like reuniting with a person lost amidst the city.

A soundless, formless surprise was upon us.

In the eyes that seem to imitate planet Earth, she drawled out the truth.

“Something, flashed by the moon.”

'Kay, two days later.

A battle for our burning youth… And the day of game that has nothing to do with any of that.

Erio, who woke up early, wrapped her upper body with a futon, standing in the middle of the hall like a statue.

“Poff, poff” She said something. I don't plan on translating so I'll just refer to it as 'poff, poff.'

“What's with the outfit?” Is it happening again?

“Ser er dern't hert if er gert hert.”

“So I don't hurt if I get hit?” It's easier to interpret this one, so I wanted to see if I could use it as practice for the English exam.

“Poff, poff.”

“You'll hurt other people's head. Strip!”

“Poff!”

She puffed up her chest (futon) in rebuttal. I used force to dismantle the futon. Shouldn't you have grown up? Is futon the only solution you have to problems? “Alright, there ya go.” After pulling the bedding off her, I nudged her down the stairs. “Uwah~” A dissatisfied Erio yearningly looked back at the futon, but her feet never stopped.

I will make sure she has her shoes on today. We're not racing in a grade schooler's fifty-meter, so we got to have shoes on. With that belief in mind I looked to her, yet she pouted in contempt, 'eh~?' while regarding the shoes next to her feet. I mean, I know she's someone who can casually walk outside when it rains — she doesn't even use an umbrella if she's alone. Does she not care about getting dirty?

It's a slightly different value from the common people. Well, part of it is also similar to others… No wait, that'd confirm the theory that Erio's an alien. As someone who denies the idea, I can't be doing this.

More basically, I am someone who doesn't believe in the supernatural unless something extraordinary happens.

The self-diagnose is probably correct. Despite it being about myself, it is still intriguing to know how little I actually understand.

Coming out to the yard, I dragged the bicycle out of the shack. Then, as though 'combining,' Erio sat into the basket; intentionally letting it slide, I moved the bike out. The pedals were heavier than two days ago; despite them being less than light, however, I somehow felt at ease.

We reached the bank with nothing in particular along the way. I first parked the bicycle a bit further away before walking down to the river where some of the shopping district team was.

Then.

“So, here's the person I wanted to bring over.”

I introduced her to everyone. Smack! I pushed lightly on Erio's back, putting her closer to them.

“P...Pleased to you…” She mumbled some words and snuffled. In her hands where a rule book 'Intro for Youth Baseball.' ...It might be a little better if you keep that hidden…

And you don't have to pretend you're the athletic kind. Erio ran behind me and watched carefully the reactions of the adults, Maekawa-san, and the opposing team. By the way, Maekawa-san was wearing a bigeye tuna outfit. Is fish trending this summer? In regard to the costume market.

However… Aside from Maekawa-san and Erio, there seemed to be something else today that captivated people's attention.

What's that? Can't be a decoration if it moves.

“It's Touwa's...” “Oh, the snack shop's...” “The person in the futon...” “Meme's daughter, huh…”

The owner of the last statement was obvious. After the commotion settled, the tanned guy in the middle took a step forward and spoke.

“Well, you play baseball?”

“I… I play right field.”

Don't bother pretending. “Not at all.” I pushed her upright head down, fixing her mistake. “Mm.” Captain tanned (Yakitori shop's manager) nodded.

“Then you take right field.” Not that he believed Erio, but probably because it is the least possible place for the ball to land in an amateur game.

Perhaps because they weren't directly involved, the adults weren't too resentful toward her.

Or maybe because for the adults, that certain 'thing' is more… Who knows.

I mean, 'it' is more for me. Once again my eyes drifted to the enemy team that's preparing for defense.

“Hmmm...”

There's someone in a space suit guarding the left field: a mysterious helper that was not here two days ago.

And it's not like she literally just returned from space.

The person capable of being Erio's toughest rival raised its gloved hand first.

“Who's that? Maekawa-san's cosplay buddy?”

“Nope, no idea who that is. Someone they found? Looks like she could jetpack to catch a home run.”

Maekawa-san remarked while staring blankly at the person. It's still a fellow cosplayer, even if they don't know each other — maybe she's just glad that another comrade showed up.

“That, is not a real space suit.” An intent Erio asserted.

“Of course not.” After all, those are pretty expensive — how would it even end up in a civilian's possession?

And even if it did, how much would it cost?

The outfit looked like it was just some similar cloth with specially painted patterns, without any real function. And there's no machine on it either. The helmet looked real, but did he make it himself? It does indeed look like a space suit from the outside.

A dude wearing a space suit, we'll abbreviate it to space man. Small framed, his movement seemed unexpectedly deft. The space suit (lookalike) and baseball mitt combination look unreal. A baseball game on the moon of Mars would probably look like that though. Strangeness instantly turned into mystery from that angle.

It might not be possible for me to pretend this to be something like 'predicting the future' with eyes shimmering like when going on a field trip to a science museum, but… Well, I don't think kids now-a-day get excited about going to places like that.

Maybe they don't care much for the unknown? I guess I still am… A kid…?

I glanced to the side at Erio; she seemed to be following the ball flying upward with the same eyes when stargazing.

“Looks like we can play a game without much problem.”

“Mm.”

Erio shut her slightly ajar mouth and nodded several time like a critter. I've never seen the TV broadcasting live baseball games when Erio's lazing around the living room, so I'm pretty sure she doesn't like baseball that much. Same goes for Meme-san.

By the way, after telling Meme-san about this. 'Alright~ Then Meme's going to play the beautiful manager!' 'No way.' What's wrong with her.

“Mm? I thought I didn't ask her to come?”

Uttering those words, Maekawa-san looked up at toward the bank; I too followed her.

A diminutive girl sat on a light motorcycle — wearing a red yukata and a pair of rubber sandals, and a construction helmet clearly in violation of many safety regulation, it's a young girl whose licensed status was dubious at best.

I recall seeing her playing ball here before. From her vehicle to clothing and appearance, a girl lacking in uniformity — much like a grade schooler's palette. Noticing Maekawa-san down below, she cast a smile.

Um, about the person sitting behind her.

“Eh~ It's Niwa-kun!”

Holding a basketball and attired with the whole set of gym clothes, Mifune Ryuushi-san, with a safety helmet on her head, was riding along on that bike.

“Yaho!” Ryuushi-san slid down the hill on her heels. “Oh man, this is gonna be good.” Maekawa-san looked over mischievously while Erio took a step back cautiously. I don't understand the intention either, but she pinched my arm lightly.

“What?” Even though I looked back at her face, our eyes didn't match. The pair of aqua-coloured eyes stared straight at Ryuushi-san.

“Hey? Is here fine?”

The girl in yukata on the bank confirmed with Ryuushi-san. “Yep! Thanks!” With a wave of hand, Ryuushi-san walked away. After that, the motorcycle left.

“Mmmm...” Ryuushi-san, whom I've not seen for five days, stood in front of me with overflowing displeasure. She might just threw the ball at me like at a wall. Or maybe dunk the ball on me. I got that she's mad, but why?

Maybe she dislikes sports that aren't basketball? No… She's more than excited about volley ball during PE. As I restart the thought, Ryuushi-san looked to Maekawa-san. She just stood with a grin; Ryuushi-san ignored the tuna with legs. Then those who are playing ball on the field: a total of two classmates. No youth here. Now she gets it. When she finally noticed Erio, for just a moment, her face twitched slightly; yet she starting pouting.

“Y'all are playing baseball.”

“Yeah, we are.”

“Maekawa-san's here, and, uh… Touwa-san too.”

“Yep, that's us.” She's more like Tunakawa-san at the moment.

“Niwa-kun's didn't invite me! Just me!”

Ryuushi-san flailed her hands around like she doesn't know who to pass the ball to — her upper half turned into an angry child.

Oh, is this what's happening? But since when did we have this unbalanced friend group? Felt like we're a four-people group looking for aliens. Maybe Ryuushi-san's a little confused about something? I was actually the only one who was invited originally, so accusing me of excluding anyone is just a little inaccurate. Just as I sent SOS to Maekawa-san, she's already moved on onto the space suit on the left field. She even exclaimed, 'Maybe I'll wear an Ali*n suit tomorrow.' Some sort of meaningless sense of rivalry in that monologue.

“No no no, I wasn't excluding you.” I'm going to have to explain it myself. “Hmph~” “That was meant to be special treatment.” The hell am I saying? A lie full of so much crap, and I just threw it at Ryuushi-san's face. And then Ryuushi-san… “Eh? I'm special?”

Wha? She took the bait? She just bit onto the word 'special?' As expected of Ryuushi-san and her complex for normalcy. With eyes wide open, her tanned face beamed with a grin.

“Doku doku.” An onomatopoeia for her state of mind… I hope it doesn't become real.

“Wasn't that an expression for things overflowing?”

“Doki doki + Waku waku.”^[18]

“Why does something so positive sound so bad?”

Ryuushi-san is above the laws of arithmetic.

“So, what made you come, Ryuushi-san?”

An equally prominent question was ‘who’s the girl in yukata?’ but this takes priority.

Ryuushi-san suddenly lowered her shoulders.

“Er, self-practice. There’s a basketball hoop there, ya see.”

Ryuushi-san’s finger pointed slowly toward where the motorcycle left. “Oh~” That’s pretty impressive — I had no clue that she’s so dedicated to her club that she’s willing to practice on her own.

“So who’s that?”

“A lady from around. She’s was on her way somewhere so she gave me a ride.”

“I see.” …A lady? “You’re pretty dedicated, huh.”

“Well, um, y’know… Uh...”

“Hm?”

Ryuushi-san wriggled about, her hands twisting the ball.” Mm~” She mumbled.

“I thought, ya know, if Niwa-kun’s gonna cheer for me, I gotta step up and stuff.”

“Oh…”

Debble Ofadorable Ness. That’s a typo from being so shaken. The devil of adorableness shone brightly, making me choke ceaselessly.

For just a moment, I was so impressed that I forgot to breath.

But it did not last long.

“The cousin, cheer?”

Erio, who was so far silent, interjected. “Hm.” I affirmed first before taking a side glance at Erio. No expression — something seemed a little off.

Ryuushi-san appeared to be taken aback by that attitude as well; just when she’s stuttering, about to ask Erio something ‘Um…’ the parts on her face froze.

Her eyes stuck to something behind me; the half-opened mouth and the tongue inside simultaneously drew a breath. At the same time of my bewilderment, I looked behind toward the field. Though there were plenty of people practising there, out of all of them only one was staring at something other than the ball, so it was easy to figure out.

It’s Nakajima. He stared past me, at Ryuushi-san. “Hi.” He smiled awkwardly and greeted with his gloved hand. Ryuushi-san too, stiffly raised her hand and frantically looked back and forth between me and him.

“Um… Is it complicated?” An ex? I choked before the words came out.

“F-friends, ‘cuz we’re both in basketball club, Nakajima-kun and I.

Ryuushi-san asserted emphatically, as though accentuating. It’s not a great feeling, when someone sounds like she’s making an excuse when she’s trying to hide something. Well, not like there’s any reason to explain to me anyway, so even I’m a little awkward now that she’s giving me special treatment.

Nakajima and Ryuushi-san looked away from each other unnaturally.

Silence loomed timely over the field.

The air around fought for warmth, wrapping me like a soft film.

Next to me were Ryuushi-san, Erio, and, even if I wanted to skip her… Maekawa-san.

Is this… The eye of the storm? A tempest seemed to prowl for a chance to lay waste on the field.

“…Oh boy.”

As though sucked in by a whirlpool, a plethora of people gathered at this amateur baseball game.

The worn-out field next to the river, filled with mysteries, fantasies, and idleness.

Holding tightly onto the Youth-points flying away, I looked skyward.

There’s a bit of cloud today: a comfortable weather unsuitable for star gazing.

--

I did think about what might end up happen, but the game proceeded without further problems. Bonk! The crisp sound reverberated one after another — of course that’d never happen: it’s still the usual gloomy routine. Whether it be Maekawa dad’s side-throw or Hanazawa-san’s softball style, the ball never met with the bat. Hanazawa-san aside, did Maekawa dad play baseball? I should ask him about it someday.

Because of these two’s pitching warfare, the ball never went the right field where Erio stood dumbfounded. Astronaut suit of the enemy team also did nothing at the left field. Both sides did show how beautiful a missed swing look, however.

After the fiasco, Ryuushi-san said nothing but pouted. With heavy steps (when her gait is uneven) she headed to practice basketball. ‘Imma make you cry during the game, Niwa-kun!’ I don’t know if it’s a taunt or a show of spirit, but somehow I’ve became her opponent. But am I despicable, shutting up despite knowing the fact that her upset was used as a façade to cover something up? It’s gotta have something to do with… Nakajima, right?

“I see…” Indeed, something worse would happen if I was upfront about it.

Nakajima stole a look here, so I smiled in courtesy.

Okay, on the second half of third inning, Touwa Erio assumed her first batting. On the opposing team, Nakajima and Hanazawa-san focused onto Erio. Sharply. Piercingly. Erio cowered in presence of those seemingly inevitable gazes, but she still put on the helmet and entered the batter’s box. Her ‘Baseball for Beginners’ lay on my hand in the resting area. She hunched her back; her overflowing hair covered her face, making me wonder if she could even see the ball. She reminded me of a rich kid from a certain manga.^[19]

Standing on the pitcher’s hill, Hanazawa-san squinted at Erio. Those were the eyes when you see something alien. Hanazawa-san must have been involved too. Her act of exhale of as though releasing something built up. Then came the first ball from that looped pitch. Erio obliviously watched the ball land without swinging the bat. The heavy thud was like the ball had stabbed into the mitt.

“Does Touwa know the rules?”

Next to me, Tunakawa-san watched the umpire’s exaggerated pose, while impassively tilting her head to the side. It’s a rhetorical question, but I still worried over the fact that I could only say ‘I wonder too.’

“Oh, I made some sandwiches for today.”

“Oh~” Much appreciated. I still think that if you at least made your dad’s portion as well, the predicament wouldn't be as bad.

I once again focused back onto the field.

Hanazawa-san’s second pitch. “Kyah!” Erio took an early step and threw her weight into the bat without any apparent analysis to the trajectory.

“Whoah!” I shot up — the bat connected. The bat’s tip grazed the ball and, albeit weakly, sent it flying back. This was the very first time in this game where the white ball was ever sent toward the outer field.

Regardless, it was just a typical and lacklustre ball that flew above the left field. Lightly running and closing the distance, the space man rose his left glove with ease, as if saying ‘I got this.’ Yet, just when I thought Erio’s done for; just when all hope’s been given up —

Bonk.

That ordinary, high-flying ball went by the glove and landed straight onto the space man’s face. Or, uh, that, um, helmet’s plastic part… The rim? I’ll figure it out later. Anyway, the ball was sucked into that spot, and the space man collapsed slowly. Like the practice target at a Hawaiian tourist shooting range, he fell backward with his face up. No sign of waking up. The man in charge of mid field frantically ran toward the space man the ball; Hanazawa-san, standing on the hill and watching where the ball went, did not react to her teammate’s mistake, merely swiping the sweat on her forehead.

Successfully arrived at first base, Erio seemed to also have noticed the incident and stopped. She tilted her head and froze, apparently confused by what’s happened. But from the shopping district’s side of the resting area came the shouting of ‘run, run!’ A stupefied Erio glanced between the resting area and the alien; baffled, she once again ran forward. As the space man continued to be dazed, Erio stepped over second base, than third base. At that precise moment, the mid fielder picked up the ball, while keeping an eye on the fallen space man, passed the ball back. Erio stopped at home plate.

On the other side, the space man was carried off into the resting area by two other players. Someone finally decided to remove the helmet, but the space man resisted.

The space man absolutely refused to show his face, choosing to maintain this surreal scene. Was it the same kind of dedication Erio has for her futon?

Perhaps worried that she’d hurt someone, Erio anxiously looked between the bench where the space man lay and my face— look, I’m not your guardian!

Fine. I concede that your actual guardian isn’t exactly useful outside of serious situations. I saw how she was playing mah-jong on her phone recently. “Meme wants summer va-cay too~!” She so exclaimed to the old lady at the Tamura shop, only to be riposted, ‘You seemed even dumber than when you’re young.’ Her fit was only further exacerbated. In a negative way, I suppose people around her really can’t tell her age.

My digression will end here. Due to Erio’s endless barrage of aid-seeking attacks, I stood up from my seat. “Transfer student?” “I’ll be right back.” Ignoring Maekawa-san’s gaze, I strode toward the opposite resting area. Affected by me, Erio too left third base and followed. Hey! You’re going to be outed! I thought that, but people who’d willing to make contact with Erio are probably few in number; hence she easily made it past the players of the other team.

“It’s not your fault. Probably.”

I comforted her first. “Mm…” Erio kept on a sad expression.

“…Ah.” Shoot. Upon the sudden realization I looked around. I can’t believe I so casually moved with Erio. Hanazawa-san and Nakajima are here, too. Just as I feared, the two of them stared wide-eyed at me and Erio. Within the eyes mixed with disquiet, I saw the darkness after summer.

I let my guard down. My habits took over. But wait, isn’t it more of a miracle that the rumour of Erio sitting inside my bicycle’s basket hasn’t become widespread?

Erio herself seemed to not care about the stares, trotting along behind me… Well, I’ve already made up my mind about this.

Without further doubt, I kept forward at the same pace.

We peeked into the resting area; the people surrounding let us in, so we closed in deeper.

Looking down by the bench; the alien lied there, limbs spread, but still reacted to us by turning his head.

He seems to be suffering from heat stroke, wearing that seemingly suffocating mask. Even with it on, people could tell the person inside is heaving heavily; perhaps dehydrated, he hacked several time with his entire body convulsing.

Probably guilt-tripped further by the tragic sight, Erio's eyes trembled.

“I'm… Sorry.”

A quivering Erio bowed apologetically. Despite being immobilized, the space man squeezed out a reply as if in labour.

“Do- not- wor-ry.”

“...Hah?”

From deep within his guts emitted a modified voice that sounded like it's to protect the speaker's identity. The degree of realism he reproduced made me wonder if there really was a machine inside. I don't understand why anyone would go as far this.

“…...” I couldn't help but look to Erio.

Erio froze too — not because she was moved to tears by the chance meeting with another extraterrestrial being. I am already used to this. It's not even a spectacle any more. Even if aliens were to show up and take over the town like, or if UFO's decide to destroy the town like a Fujiko F. Fujio comic, I wouldn't be surprised.^[20]

Why is this town filled with freaks? And you even come regularly. Are you guys mid bosses in a game?

“You got this! Ex-alien.” I testing nudged Erio, our ace, forward. “Cousin, um...” The sudden recommendation locked Erio up; she threw countless glances at me. “You can do it.” I forced her to have a face-to-face with him.

Would there be some chemical reaction? I had hope. And the evasive thought of 'please stop throwing people like this in my way.'

“What- is- this-?”

“A friend.”

“Friend?” He only hesitated for a moment, 'what- is- this-?' before starting to feel Erio's head. “Uwahwah!” Unused to people's touch, Erio reacted incomprehensibly like speaking without any teeth.

“Ph-ew.”

“I don't think you have to insist the pause in a 'phew.'”

Plus you need that air now.

The space man ignored my advice, staring at Erio's face. Just then…

“You- ap-pear- to- be- an- in-habi-tant- of- XXXXXX-”

“Wha?” “Eh?”

“Are- you- involved- in- the- case?”

The space man took off with the topic, leaving my and Erio's reaction in the dust.

What was that made-up word he said? Don't tell me: it was an alien language he made up? This is bad — he's not messing around. If he's sicker than Erio with her futon, I'm not going to be able to handle this.

Actually, I don't even have to listen to this guy: I just thought that somehow Erio will be dragged into this space man's fantasy. For my personal harmony, I'll pretend this never happened.

“What was that, just now?”

Naturally, I think, Erio didn't understand the space man's words, requesting a repeat. However, he continued on.

And for some reason his words and gaze directed to me.

“As- for- the- individual- there...” From that point on, a normal, somewhat raspy voice of a teenage girl surfaced. Wait, that's a girl in there? Well, I guess from her physique that should have been the assumption. “Ah, wait. Time out.” Her natural voice came out; she coughed violently with her right hand blocking Erio's eyes. Apparently that was too much for her, the voice. It's on the same level as forcing yourself to laugh like ke~ ke~ ke. In the end, while watching this whole thing play out with the help of humidity, I caved. The stupidity of trying to deal with her pierced my spine.

“Ah~ ah~” Sitting up now, the space girl who ignored the stale atmosphere surrounding her completed the adjustment of her voice. She stuck her thumb at her chest and boasted.

“Thanks- for- waiting. Come- at- me.” She'd recovered — and was getting on my nerve.

The space girl kept the mimicry while identifying herself.

“I- am- an- es-per.”

I'm an esper. I recalled the creature that had to karate-chop its own neck to speak like that.^[21]

A esper descends once again.

“Ahhh~”

It's been a while since I get to end with this. May I? I may. So, here it is.

“Oh, is that so?”

1. Jump up↑ Reference to Batako-san from Anpanman
2. Jump up↑ Radio callisthenic is an activity that was introduced during the 20’s in Japan. Children and even adults would get up early in the morning and gather, where a radio will be tuned to play the ‘music.’ When completed, a card could be brought up to whomever has a stamp so attendance could be marked
3. Jump up↑ Hanazawa, Katsuo and Nakajima are all characters from Sazae-san. Katsuo 鰹is the Japanese word for Bonito fish. Hanazawa was, interestingly enough, voiced by Hanazawa Kana in the anime
4. Jump up↑ Someone stop this madman and his references
5. Jump up↑ Koushi-en refers to the baseball stadium at which the national high school baseball tournament is held
6. Jump up↑ a reference to episode 37 of Jack Black
7. Jump up↑ Character Hunter
8. Jump up↑ Oba-con. Having a thing for one’s aunt
9. Jump up↑ Referring to The Girl Who Leapt Through Time directed by Hosoda Mamoru
10. Jump up↑ Hashimoto from Sazae-san. The joke is never going to die, is it
11. Jump up↑ Obon is the time when spirits of the ancestors will return to visit their children. The Wasteful Spirit 勿体無いおばけapparently shows up when someone wastes food or things
12. Jump up↑ From the Ring
13. Jump up↑ Originally 姥桜was used. It's a type of cherry blossom that doesn't grow leaves till it's flower has fallen. It has both the meaning of a woman's whose beauty has faded, and a woman who has retained her beauty despite aging
14. Jump up↑ Gegege no Kitaro reference
15. Jump up↑ Oba-san = older women or aunt. Obaa-san = old lady
16. Jump up↑ The GRS is a perpetual storm that is visible on the surface of planet Jupiter; it's visibility with consideration with the planet's size indicate the scale of the storm
17. Jump up↑ In Japanese, baseball is called 野球yakyuu
18. Jump up↑ Not sure how to translate this so I just left it as is. Ryuushi combined doki doki, the expression for heartbeat, and waku waku, for excitement, to make doku, the sound of liquid pouring out
19. Jump up↑ Hanagata Mitsuru from Star of the Giants, a manga series that ran from 1968 to 1971
20. Jump up↑ One of the famous manga artist under the name Fujiko Fujio. Best known for their iconic work Doraemon
21. Jump up↑ From movie “The Mysterians,” in which the aliens' voice is achieved with knocking one's own throat