A Salty Response
Katsune's hand slashed desperately through the empty air. She was trying, somehow, to clamp it over Hina's mouth, but Hina only tilted her head and slipped the grab with ease, then answered with a leisurely scoff and pressed the provocation further.
"Ehh~? What's your problem, senpai? When you got drunk last night and rolled around on the floor, bartender oppa took care of all of it, didn't he? It's pretty unfair if you're the only one trying to get close! Hina's just being honest about how she feels!"
Chin propped in her hand, Hina smiled sweetly and kept scratching at Katsune's nerves.
"Wh-who rolled around on the floorrr?!"
The mortifying episode she had been so desperate to bury was hauled back up to the surface, and Katsune's ruby eyes spun, shaking without mercy. She stole a sidelong glance at me—the one who had covered that shame for her from behind the counter—then, as if she had been swept entirely into Hina's brazen pace, planted both hands hard on the edge of the bar.
"O-okay! I get it, so please, just stop talking about that humiliating disaster!"
The force behind the shout collapsed in an instant. She jerked her gaze away, and a faint red spread quickly over her pale cheeks.
"...A-and, bartender oppa."
Her lips worked for a moment before she mumbled on.
"It's just... it feels a little unfair if you're only casual with that Hina brat. When I'm off duty, just call me Rin. Nice and easy."
Fingertips dusted with lemon pound cake crumbs fidgeted with the stem of her glass.
"I'm sick to death of being called the shrine maiden, or Katsune, while I'm on air."
Her real name, stripped of the glittering magical girl title, dropped beside the glass where the ice was melting.
I set the cocktail stirrer in my hand down without a sound. There was no need for an exaggerated reaction. Calling a guest by the name she wanted, and letting the conversation stay easy—that was my job on this side of the counter. I met both their eyes and spoke in a voice that had settled into something easier.
"Yeah. How was your day?"
My calm question spread softly through the café, riding the quiet line of jazz.
"I happened to catch a broadcast when I got up this morning. Looked like Rin was filming some kind of drowsy concept."
I turned toward Hina.
"How about you, Hina?"
"Kack! Kack—cough! C-cough...!"
Before the question meant for Hina could even land, the shoulders of the girl beside her jerked hard. Rin had been taking a neat bite of lemon pound cake, and the moment broadcast and drowsy concept left my mouth, it went down the wrong way. A silver fork clattered onto the plate.
"D-drowsy c-concept...?!"
The proud magical girl poise that had glittered like stars in the night sky was nowhere to be found. Fist clenched, Rin thumped her own chest and stared at me with a face gone red.
"Oppaa...! Th-that actually aired?!"
Her ruby eyes had blown wide, as if they might pop free at any second, and they would not stop shaking. Both hands clamped the edge of the bar as she spilled out a voice tangled with injustice and shame.
"That wasn't a conceeept! Last night, here, I was so— ahem. Anyway, I was so dead tired I basically passed out, and I'd barely opened my eyes this morning when my manager barged in dragging the crew for A Day in the Life of a Magical Girl!"
She huffed and raked her long black hair into a wild mess.
"I hadn't even brushed it. I was collapsed on the sofa, and they just filmed me anyway, then slapped a caption on it calling the whole thing a drowsy concept and sent it out?! Are they insane?! What am I supposed to do about my image?!"
I had only just managed to pretend last night's disaster had never happened, and now her completely unguarded off-duty self had gone out on a morning broadcast to the entire country and been preserved for eternity. A day in the life of the magical girl Katsune Rin was becoming content whether she wanted it or not.
Beside her, Hina—still holding her grapefruit cocktail—went round-eyed, then burst out laughing.
"Ahaha! Oh right, senpai! That hit number one on the real-time trends first thing this morning. The fans were going crazy, saying the shrine maiden's laid-back, human side is adorable."
"Don't laugh, Hina! This is serious for meee...!"
Rin flopped forward and bonked her forehead against the bar, going limp against it. While she kept knocking her head on the table and groaning, the silver twin tails of the girl beside her swayed lightly.
"Ahahaha! Senpai Katsune, you're hilarious! Oppa, she's always like this. In front of the camera she strikes this incredible pose, and the second it's off she's getting dragged around by her shikigami and doing nothing but whine."
That bright laughter swallowed the quiet jazz in a single breath.
Hina had been snacking on her senior's misfortune, but the moment she turned her eyes my way, the pupils in those orange irises caught the indoor light and glittered strangely. Over the gothic lolita dress, the pale line of her shoulders slipped well past the edge of the bar. She propped her chin in both hands and closed the distance, and the sweet scent of her perfume drifted in behind the counter.
"So you watched senpai's broadcast, I seeee~ Then what about Hina?"
A soft voice slipped out between lips curved upward.
"You didn't look up Hina's show? The fashion icon. Happy Trigger."
She was close enough that every breath she let out sent the sweet smell of grapefruit cocktail drifting across the table. Before I could choose an answer, Hina bounced on ahead in a bright, skipping voice.
"If you don't know, Hina will tell you! Hina's day was a total bust~ From morning on I had to chase tacky aberrations around shooting at them, and my makeup almost completely fell apart. My mood was the absolute worst."
Slender fingertips tapped the glass, and my eyes caught on them.
"But... right now I'm drinking this pretty cocktail you made me, and you said Hina's name. And just like that, it turned into a perfect hundred. Funny how that works, huh?"
Those slender fingers took the glass with its grapefruit garnish and spun it in slow circles. In time with the ice clinking inside, Hina winked at me.
On the surface it was only the coy charm of a bright, lively girl. But the orange eyes looking up at me did not flinch by so much as a millimeter. They tangled with mine and held, persistent. I leaned lightly against the counter and quietly met that gaze.
"Tacky aberrations... well, most aberrations do look a little off. Like the monsters in skintight suits from those special-effects hero shows. But... did you just say a gun?"
At my flat reply, Hina only blinked, like someone whose circuits had crossed inside her head. Then those orange eyes narrowed, and her pale palm came down on the bar with a light smack.
"Eh?! Oppaa! Out of my perfect hundred-point seduction, the word that stuck with you was gun?!"
She puffed both cheeks full and pushed her lips into a pout.
"Hina's looking at you this prettily, and instead of a romantic reaction you bring up weapons? That is seriously against the rules!"
Just then, off in the corner, the shoulders of Rin—fork in hand, forehead braced—jumped hard.
"Pfft—ahahahaha!"
The laugh she had been holding burst free and rang through the café. Rin clutched her stomach outright, cackling as she jabbed a finger at Hina.
"Serves you right, Hina! You've been showing off like that since yesterday, and then you go on about tacky aberrations and kill the whole mood!"
As if paying back, all at once, the humiliation of being teased over her own disaster, she smiled a mean little smile and turned toward me behind the counter.
"Bartender oppa, don't build too pretty a fantasy about that one. Can you picture a girl in a dress like that running around with a machine gun as big as she is, going rat-a-tat-tat?"
At her senior's exposé, Hina's pale cheeks flushed red for an instant. But a magical girl who kept an idol's smile even under a storm of camera flashes changed stance fast.
"Hmph! Says the one who spends her time chasing her shikigami's tails from behind!"
Hina rose lightly from the barstool. She extended index finger and thumb on both hands into the shape of a pistol, the frills of her gothic lolita dress fluttering as she aimed the barrel at me across the counter. One eye squeezed shut in a wink, and her lips curled cutely.
"Bang! Hina's bullets don't just hit tacky aberrations, you know. They can land right in oppa's heart, too."
She brought the playful muzzle to her lips and made a show of blowing across it, then leaned her upper body in close to the counter again. Those orange eyes tangled with mine once more, clear and intent.
"Next time I'll snipe your heart with something other than a gun. So be ready."
At that reckless, blatant charge, the mouth of Rin—who had been laughing with her stomach clutched—fell open.
"Are you actually insane?!"
"Oh? Then I'll give you this as my answer."
At my calm reply, Hina's eyes went round with curiosity.
I took a freshly polished rocks glass from the shelf. A wedge of grapefruit I had cut in advance went into my hand, and I ran the flesh all the way around the rim of the clear glass so it made full contact. Then I turned the glass upside down over a bed of coarse salt and pressed it lightly, and the salt clung thick along the rim, white as fresh snowflakes. Clear ice went in next, and after it red grapefruit juice, sparkling water, and syrup, poured one after another. What settled in the glass was a Salty Dog in mocktail form, the alcohol left out.
While I built the drink, Rin finished off the last slice of lemon pound cake on her plate and sat watching me, empty fork in hand. I gave her a quiet nod, then drew a salt bread from the warmed display case and set it on a small plate. Heat and the rich scent of butter rose from it, pearly white salt pressed into the crust in a way that looked almost indecently good.
"There's a funny Japanese saying about salt. Want to try guessing what it means?"
I pushed the red cocktail, ringed in white salt, across to Hina, and the glossy salt bread across to Rin, setting them down side by side.