Chapter 3 Part 3 – Drowsiness and Iced Tea

The next morning, while I was getting ready, I received a call from the front desk. A package had arrived, and a room attendant was bringing it up to our room.

I opened the two small cardboard boxes lined up before me. Inside were…

“Wowww! Clothes! And they’re so cute!” Kirie let out a delighted cry as she held up a piece of women’s clothing.

The other box contained simple men’s clothes.

In short, Love had been thoughtful.

Since we had already resigned to wearing the same clothes as yesterday, it was a nice gesture.

“Amazing… Love-chan has great taste… so pretty… wait, we are allowed to keep these, right?”

“It would be a pain if we sent them back,” I said, quickly emptying all the clothes from the boxes.

Thoughtfully, a box to send our current clothes back home was also included.

“Love-chan is actually quite diligent, despite being like that,” Kirie remarked admiringly as she spread out the clothes.

Suddenly, she exclaimed, “Ah, underwear!” and I quickly looked away. I decided to quickly forget the colors and patterns I had glimpsed in the corner of my eye.

***

After leaving the hotel, we looked for Miss Shinohara again.

According to the information from Love, Shinohara should be home at her house.

Yesterday, she had explicitly rejected us. There was no guarantee that she would speak with us again, but we had no choice but to try.

Enduring the heat, we walked to her apartment. However, when I rang the bell at the first-floor entrance, Shinohara answered surprisingly quickly.

“…You’re here again?”

“Yes. For the same reason as yesterday.”

“I’m not listening to the same story twice,” Shinohara said, sounding somewhat annoyed.

It was understandable. Still, we had to follow through with it. And above all—

“Today… I’ll make it the last time.”

I had told Love that I wanted one more day. Which meant, ‘I didn’t need any more than that.’ At the very least, Love would undoubtedly interpret it that way.

“…You will?”

“Not just me. Everyone. We’ll put an end to this whole matter.”

“Sigh…wait there,” Shinohara said.

I nodded through the intercom, and the line cut off.

Shinohara led us to a different restaurant than the one from yesterday. However, it was still expensive, and the seats were semi-private.

Once the drinks arrived, I spoke.

“Do you really have no intention of returning it?”

“No, I don’t,” Shinohara answered immediately, her expression unchanging.

“My employer has considerable financial means. Depending on the negotiation, we can offer money. We can even support you in getting the job you desire. This is a chance to make your life better than it is now. For the sake of your child, can’t you just consider that option?”

“Unfortunately, I’ve received plenty of offers already. I’m not interested. Besides, stop trying to take advantage of my conscience. It doesn’t suit you, and it’s obvious that you’re forcing yourself.”

Shinohara stared at me, her face remaining grim.

I wanted to try every possible move, to explore every possibility. But the fact was, there wasn’t much left that the previous Collector hadn’t already tried.

“To be honest, I could understand your perspective as well,” Shinohara said, slowly stirring her coffee.

The marble patterns created by the milk broke apart and dissolved into the brown liquid.

“But… try looking at it from my position. If you’ve taken care of a cat that settled in your garden for ten years, and then someone tells you it’s actually someone else’s pet and you have to give it back, how could you possibly accept that? Even if money is offered as a condition, it’s only natural to refuse. Because this ability is already a part of my life.”

“…”

“There is simply a conflict of interest,” Shinohara said.

Her voice was tense, as if she were pushing us away or lecturing us.

I mean, she is a teacher after all.

“Both you and I want something different. There’s nothing that could change either of our minds. That’s why you should give up, or try another option. In exchange, I’ll do my best to resist. The winner takes all, and I’m prepared for that.”

Shinohara paused. She was clearly more agitated than she had been yesterday. But she didn’t shout, only her resolve to fight us to the end wavered slightly.

Taking a deep breath, Shinohara continued.

“I’ll say it again. Don’t try to persuade me.”

Ah… it’s no use.

Taking in her trembling eyes and shaking voice, I naturally felt it. This time, it really was impossible.

“No matter how much you say, no matter who says it, the negotiations have broken down. There are things in this world that cannot be solved through discussion. There are things that can only be resolved by force.”

“…But you can’t run away.” I said.

Shinohara’s eyes widened as if she had been shot. Then, they gradually narrowed, becoming sharp as she glared at me.

“I understand how you feel. If I were in your position, I would probably say the same thing. But if it’s going to end up that way anyway… if I really can’t escape that person—”

Even if it’s no use.

Even if she won’t be convinced, even if I’m continuously rejected, I want to struggle until the end.

For this person’s sake, and as my duty.

“I want you to at least gain something from this.”

And above all… for my own sake.

“Please…please understand. I’m begging you. Even if it’s painful, even if it’s scary, even if you can’t accept it. Please give it up and start a new life… I don’t want it to end like this.”

Before I knew it, I had placed both hands on the table and bowed my head.

This wasn’t a negotiation. It was a mere plea. But I couldn’t help it… I couldn’t leave it like this.

Because I knew what would happen to this person if she refused.

Because I had asked for one more chance. I didn’t want it to end without doing everything that I could.

A hand gently stroked my back. Just by the familiar feeling, I could tell that it was Kirie.

“…What a strange boy.”

“…”

“But… I already told you, it’s fine. I’m prepared. I just said that, didn’t I?”

Shinohara’s voice was gentle. When I looked up, she was gazing at me with a troubled smile.

‘Prepared.’ she had said.

But… that was wrong. That wasn’t the face of being prepared, but one of resignation.

I had misunderstood her.

Yayoi Shinohara wasn’t trying to fight anyone. That was never her intention.

She wanted us to cut through the feelings she couldn’t shake… the heart she couldn’t let go of. She wanted us to forcibly pull away the hand she couldn’t release on her own.

If that’s the case… then the only thing left for me to do is—

“Goodbye. Thank you… you really are kind.”

With a faint smile, Shinohara spoke. At the same time, she reached out her hand, which had been resting by her drink.

The events of yesterday flashed through my mind. But, I didn’t pull away. I simply closed my eyes.

Beside me, I heard Kirie gasp.

“It’s a shame, really.”

A voice spoke. It wasn’t Shinohara or Kirie, but a high-pitched voice mixed with a certain childishness.

When I opened my eyes, a vivid peach color had bloomed. Love was sitting right next to Shinohara, pressing a finger to her forehead.

“I’m sorry. But this is the only way.”

A faint light began to emanate from between Shinohara’s eyes. As the light was sucked into Love’s finger, Shinohara suddenly lost consciousness. Love caught her limp body, embracing her.

“Love… chan?”

Kirie’s voice was trembling. Love turned toward us. Her mouth was twisted, and there was a deep furrow between her brows.

“Good work, Mizuki-kun,” Love said.

Love’s own face looked terribly exhausted.

We took the unconscious Shinohara back to her home by taxi. When we tentatively opened the door to her room, Shinohara’s child was fast asleep. From a note on the table, we understood that Shinohara must have put the child to sleep just before leaving.

We laid her on the sofa and returned the key to its original place in her bag. Before leaving the room, I looked at Shinohara’s face one last time.

I wondered what she would do when she woke up. But, I quickly dismissed the thought. Whether it was a mere coincidence that no one saw us until the end, or Love’s doing, I decided not to think about it.

“Order whatever you like,” Love said in a dry voice, sitting across from us.

We were in a high-end set-meal restaurant in a shopping mall near the station. Love had chosen this place because they had private rooms. Which meant—

“I think I’ll explain things to Mahina-chan soon. About me, and about the abilities.”

In other words, it was time to tell a story that should never be heard.

Kirie swallowed hard. As our orders arrived, we looked at each other once more. Kirie and I had the simmered mackerel and tofu hamburger sets, respectively. Love seemed to have no appetite and had only ordered a pudding for dessert.

“I come from a different planet than this one,” Love said.

Kirie remained frozen for a while, her mouth slightly open. But after a moment, she let out a slow breath and whispered, “I see…”

Love reached into the bag they were carrying—which was rare—and produced a small sketchbook. On the page facing Kirie, the words “Love’s Amazing Story” were written in crayon.

“I’m what you’d call an alien. It’s been about eighty years now. Japan at the time was just coming out of a great war. A friend of mine had an accident near this planet.”

Speaking in a narrative tone, Love flipped the page of the sketchbook. There was an illustration of a UFO colliding with a meteorite and a drawing of the blue Earth.

Ignoring Love’s picture-story show, I broke apart the mackerel with my chopsticks and ate it bit by bit. I felt my face twist as I remembered the day I had been told the same thing.

“He had countless ‘abilities’ on his ship. The ship that crashed on Earth was destroyed, and the abilities were scattered across the world. Up to that point, it was… well, okay. I mean, it wasn’t okay, but it was still manageable.”

On the next page, it displayed countless lights and a spaceship falling toward Earth like shooting stars. After staring at the drawing for a while, Kirie also began to move her chopsticks.

She didn’t seem to have the luxury of nodding along. She looked as if she were pouring all her energy into processing the story, using her mind and eyes as much as possible.

“By sheer luck, the ability was compatible with you humans. The ability has a sort of cycle or wave, and when it reaches a specific state, it attaches itself to a human nearby. I don’t know the specific conditions. Even in our civilization, these things were still largely unexplained. However, it doesn’t seem to choose its host. In short, it was truly ‘by chance’.”

The picture-story show continued. I felt the vibe of the drawings was slightly different than before, but that didn’t matter. There were bigger problems.

First, this ability had been strictly kept as a research subject on Love’s planet. Love’s friend had stolen it and fled. At least, that’s how it was viewed over there. Because it was important, it couldn’t be lost. Every single one had to be recovered.

However, the ability cannot be sensed when it is simply drifting. The only practical way to recover it was through a living organism that possessed it… in other words, a human. In that sense, perhaps they were lucky.

Find all the humans with the ability… and recover it from them. That became Love’s purpose on this planet.

“…Mmm. You’re wondering why I don’t just take it by force, like I did earlier, right?”

“Buckle in, kiddos. I’ll tell you my story.”

I gave Kirie an incredulous look as I watched her scooch in a little closer.

“It was simple, I feel… indebted to you all.

To Earth and humanity, we are complete outsiders.

Just because a friend of mine happened to have an accident here, it didn’t mean that my species had any intention or right to invade Earth for it, or even to establish contact.

Despite no one having asked for it, we had scattered a vast amount of abilities onto your planet, forever altering the lives of countless individuals.

Whether the person wanted the ability or not, it was an act of force majeure.

TLN: Force majeure are events beyond a person’s control, kind of like natural disasters.

Don’t you think that’s a little unfair?

They were just living their lives.

Then, one day, without warning, they suddenly obtained supernatural abilities.

Surely, they would’ve been bewildered. They likely suffered, struggled, and found their lives profoundly changed.

And yet, they had no choice but to accept it. No choice but to adapt to it.

Because the ability is not something they can simply let go of on their own accord.

Perhaps, just when they finally think they’ve finally adapted, they’re suddenly told to, ‘Give it back.’

How could anyone find that acceptable?

In that sense, Miss Yayoi Shinohara’s reaction was incredibly natural.

My friend—that is, my species—selfishy disrupted another’s ecosystem.

Through our own clumsiness, we left behind a great disaster, the one that is now causing trouble for others.

Therefore, even if it takes time, we should recover what we lost only after ensuring the recipient is as satisfied as possible with the arrangement.

Our mess must be cleaned up in the most proper and fair manner.

We must avoid causing as much disruption to the external ecosystem as possible.

That was the job that I was tasked with. The person didn’t have that many friends… just me, actually.

Now, I imagine you have another question.

‘Why don’t I do it myself?’

‘Why do I hire humans, like Mizuki-kun, to handle the recovery negotiations?’

Let me explain.

There are two clear reasons for this.

First, quite simply, there are too many of them.

The abilities scattered across Earth were truly numerous.

If I searched for and recovered them all by myself, it would take forever. It was far too unrealistic.

However, if we leave the abilities unchecked forever, the trouble only grows.

To recover the powers with a certain degree of efficiency, I literally needed extra manpower.

The second reason–

This one is more pathetic, yet also more serious.

I am… not suited for negotiation with humans.

We are different creatures, after all.

Our lifespans differ, and our cultures and values are entirely different.

I can imagine or understand human feelings, but I cannot truly empathize with them.

Even if I could, if an alien told you, ‘I understand,’ you wouldn’t believe them anyway.

I failed time and time again.

In most cases, my words simply didn’t reach humans.

They wouldn’t be convinced. They resisted me, they attacked me.

When I was forced to take their ability by force, it left them deeply scarred and traumatized.

There were several people who suffered mental breakdowns or even committed suicide from the shock of losing their ability.

I tried to study humans… I tried my best to make it work, but it was no use.

Manpower and the success rate of negotiations. I felt I needed a breakthrough in these two areas.

Something fundamental and revolutionary.

I tried many different ways of negotiation, but they all failed.

Until finally, I came up with the idea of outsourcing the negotiations to other humans.

Between humans, persuasion would surely go better than it ever would with me.

The goal is to have the person possessing the ability agree to return it.

If that’s the case, then there’s no need for me to do it. The conclusion is what matters, the process to get there wasn’t important.

Of course, I still needed to secure the right personnel.

Intelligence, motivation, and competence.

I look for people who possess all three traits to a reasonable degree, and recruit them as a negotiator.

I then search for ability users from the shadows and provide information about them.

With this, I can solve the problems of both quantity and quality simultaneously.

That’s how I built the current system, thirty years ago.

Not everything has gone perfectly. Every day is a cycle of reflection and improvement.

But, I believe I made the right decision

…So, well, you know.

What happened to Miss Shinohara… was truly a shame.

If possible, I didn’t want it to end like this.

I wanted her to be convinced and to return the ability on her own.

I know that I’m being selfish.

Perhaps the words and feelings of an alien like me won’t be accepted, or won’t be trusted.

But, that is truly how I feel.

Well, that’s the end.

That was Love-chan’s ‘Love’s Amazing Story.’”

***

“Mmmh, I don’t want to do a single thing today.” As we left the diner, Love sighed and vanished somewhere, as usual.

After that, Kirie and I returned to the station and boarded the Shinkansen for the trip back home.

Unlike the previous ride, Kirie didn’t talk at all.

With a vacant expression, she gazed out the window, occasionally sipping tea from a plastic bottle.

It was still the second day of summer vacation.

“Are you surprised?”

I was the one to break the silence.

Kirie had listened to Love’s outlandish story with unexpected composure.

Even now, she was quiet, neither bewildered nor flustered.

Uncharacteristically, I was curious. I wondered what she was thinking right now.

“Sigh… of course I was surprised!” Kirie said, a small smile breaking through.

“It’s just… I mean. I’d imagined various possibilities beforehand. Like, what kind of circumstances would lead to this? How were the abilities created? Who is this girl, anyway?”

“…I see.”

“Yeah. So, I guess it was within the realm of my expectations? Of course, it’s not like I fully understand it or believe it yet.”

This time, she let out a dry, hollow laugh.

I could understand where Kirie was coming from.

After all, before hearing that story, she had already witnessed scenes that defied reality.

People with supernatural abilities. The recovery of powers that Love demonstrated.

Those things had likely built up a certain tolerance in her.

“What about you, Hidaka-kun? What did you think when you first heard that story from Love-chan? No, when you first met her?”

“…I’m not sure. I don’t remember.”

“You’re so boring…”

Kirie sounded disappointed, and she turned her gaze back to the front.

In truth, I remembered it well. No, it was impossible to forget.

And that was exactly why I didn’t feel like telling her.

“But Love-chan is a good girl, isn’t she? Oh, but despite how she looks, she’s actually much older, right? So… I guess she’s a ‘good person’, just like you.'”

Kirie added, pressing a finger to the tip of her chin.

I felt relieved that the subject had changed, but this new topic was equally unpleasant to me.

“Not wanting to cause trouble for humans, wanting them to return the ability only when they feel comfortable… I feel like I can actually relate to that. Of course, assuming that story is true. But—”

“Kirie.”

I interrupted her.

Kirie looked at me, surprised, blinking her eyes.

I waited for the onboard announcement to finish before continuing.

“Love is not human. Even if it seems like you can understand her, her values, her way of thinking—everything is different from ours. Fundamentally, we are unable to ever truly understand each other.”

“…”

“She’s not human. It’s better not to forget that.”

“…Yes. I get it.”

After a brief pause, Kirie nodded with surprising compliance.

Perhaps she sensed the gravity of the situation from my tone and expression.

“Mmm… by the way, has Love-chan always looked that cute? Since she’s like an alien, did she actually look like a giant kaiju? Or more like a monster?”

As she spoke, Kirie made circles with her hands and held them over her eyes.

Her image of an alien was quite silly.

“Who knows. She looked like that when I met her.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. But according to her, she can change her appearance to a certain extent. She said that her current form is ‘the most convenient.’“

“Convenient, huh.” Kirie crossed her arms and tilted her head, letting out a low hum.

She quickly seemed to lose interest in the topic, turning her eyes back to the scenery outside.

Kirie’s face, reflected in the window, looked strangely solemn.

“I’m curious about Love-chan, but…”

Kirie muttered, still looking out the window.

No, she was looking at me.

For some reason, our gazes had been locked through the reflection of the windows for a while now, neither of us looking away.

“I’m more curious about you, Hidaka-kun.”

“…”

“You told me to stop asking about you. But, back then… no, since the very beginning, I’ve been wondering. Why are you working for Love-chan? Why do you keep doing it, even though it causes you so much pain? And… a lot of other things.”

Kirie’s voice was cautious, devoid of any playfulness or teasing.

The warning I had previously set had already lost its effect.

Perhaps, that was inevitable.

We had spent so much time together, felt too much of each other’s presence. Little by little, we changed one another. I could no longer push Kirie away like I wanted to.

However,

“I’m fine.” I said, turning my face away from Kirie’s reflection in the window.

“Love, you, everything—if it doesn’t relate to the job, then I don’t care. It’s better not to think too deeply about things like this.”

I’m scared. I don’t want to drag anyone else down.

Our own burdens are heavy enough, we have no room to take on someone else’s.

Knowing too much about someone else can even become a hindrance to your own life.

…No, I can feel it instinctively.

If I got to know more about Kirie… if we shared our circumstances… my own two feet would surely grow much, much heavier.

There’s still such a long way… we both have so much of our lives ahead of us. I don’t even know how much further I have to go.

Don’t you feel the same way, Kirie?

“Hidaka-kun, you’re not a very good liar.”

She turned toward me.

I didn’t meet her gaze, no… I couldn’t.

I caught a glimpse of Kirie’s pouting lips at the edge of my vision.

“Whenever we are working… you seem so miserable. If you truly didn’t care, you wouldn’t make that face. When you cried after hearing Kanata-kun’s story, or when you begged Love-chan for one more day to speak to Shinohara-san, or even when you tried to stop my stalker and protect me.”

I thought I heard her voice tremble near the end, just a tiny bit.

“If… if you really didn’t care, then why would you do any of that?”

Kirie’s tone sounded assertive… and a little bit angry.

She remembers far too many unimportant things.

When I didn’t respond, Kirie let out a small sigh and turned away.

After that, we didn’t speak another word until we reached our stop.

“Good night, Hidaka-kun.”

“…Goodbye.”

We parted ways.

As I walked home under the sunset, my steps felt much heavier than usual.

‘You’re such a liar.’

Kirie’s words echoed in my head.

Liar, huh? Ah… she was right.

Kirie was always right. Deep down, I knew it too.

I’m a liar.

Not just about the things she pointed out.

Eventually, I arrived home.

I noticed the corner of a white envelope peeking out of my mailbox.

Taking it out, I checked the sender.

Another job? This soon? That Love girl really doesn’t know when to give me a break.

That’s what I had assumed.