Anyone Who Likes Horror Games Is Clearly a Masochist
"M-Miss Koga."
"Hm?"
"Um, um, th-there, I mean. T-today, w-would it be all right if you s-stayed over at our house?"
"...Huh?"
What was that? Was she coming on to me?
The thought flashed through Suzuha's mind for an instant. It died just as quickly, of course, but the heat already burning in her face showed no sign of cooling.
"I-it's just, there's n-nobody home today, and being by myself is s-scary..."
Suzuha knew perfectly well what this was. Izumi meant the words exactly as she said them, and nothing more.
And yet there she sat, blanket pulled up over her head, looking up at Suzuha from the chair.
"W-would that not be all right?"
What was she supposed to say to a sight like that? The question passing through her mind felt almost inevitable. Blanket and all, the girl was unfairly sensual.
The skin around her eyes was still faintly pink from crying a moment ago, and those blue irises shone wet, as if to advertise just how badly the fear had her shaking. To huddle under a blanket like that, trembling, and look up at her—
That was completely against the rules.
So she was innocent for thinking it. Suzuha covered her face with one hand and made the excuse to herself.
"I-it really would be a bother, wouldn't it? Now that I think about it, y-you've got a s-stream soon, too. I-I'm sorry..."
"Ngh..."
Honestly, to claim she wasn't in a bind would have been pure hypocrisy. Just as Izumi had said, she had a solo stream set for ten-thirty, after today's offline collab. There were several reasons for the late hour, Suzuha being nocturnal among them, but the point that mattered was simple: she had a broadcast tonight.
Even so.
"I-I was being too selfish, th-thinking only of myself. I-I'm sorry..."
How was she supposed to walk out on someone this frightened—this tiny, this much like a trembling pet? For Suzuha, at least, it was impossible.
If all of this is an act, then Izumi's got a real gift for the stage.
Thinking that, Suzuha ducked her head and let out a sigh.
"All right. I'll stay over tonight. The stream's nothing. I'll explain, and one day off won't kill anyone."
"...What? But th-that would be way too much of a b-bother..."
"It's fine, it's fine. I'm the one who pushed you into it knowing you'd be scared, so just call it an apology. Tonight was only going to be a chat stream anyway."
Earlier, in the middle of the broadcast, Suzuha had been ego surfing—drifting through one internet community after another to see how today's offline collab was landing. And if she had to pick the single verdict that stuck with her most, it was this.
She wanted to tell whoever had written that Nater post the truth. It might look that way from the outside, but in the end she was the one always getting yanked around by Izumi.
"...Well. She doesn't even seem to notice she's doing it."
"Huh? D-did you call me?"
"It's nothing."
Suzuha looked at Izumi, who was still shaking, smiled, and let out a soft sigh.
"So I don't have any pajamas. What should we do?"
I looked her over at that. A white short-sleeved dress shirt, summer jeans. Definitely not something you slept in.
"Hmm."
People might have forgotten, but Miss Koga was shorter than me. And there she was in a casual outfit that grown-up. She really was older than me, of course, but still—the look suited her, and at the same time it gave off this faintly illicit thrill.
If I end up staring like a creep, it can't be helped. Th-this is all Miss Koga's fault...
"You're thinking something weird again, Izumi."
"I-I am not!"
How did she know?!
She had seen straight through me, the self-proclaimed god of poker faces. Was Miss Koga a mind reader after all?
"So. What are we doing about pajamas?"
"Uh, uhm."
If my past-life self had been asked what to do when someone didn't have pajamas, I would have answered on the spot: You're only staying one night. Just sleep in those. I never really distinguished between clothes for going out and clothes for sleeping. Well—he always brought his own pajamas when he came over, anyway.
But the me of now knew better. When you slept, you slept in pajamas. It was so much more comfortable.
Even mine were made of fluffy fur and still breathed incredibly well. Put them on, flop onto the bed, roll around, and that was heaven, no question. And judging by the way Miss Koga was bringing up her lack of pajamas, she was another victim of the same drug. The one called sleepwear.
"Pajamas, you sinful things..."
"What are you talking about all of a sudden?"
"Ah, n-nothing..."
"Mm. I waited outside a long time, so my clothes are damp with sweat. I'd like to change."
Pajamas, we had. I owned several pairs, and Mom and my sister slept in them too, so spares were never a problem. The problem was that every one of those was too big for Miss Koga. Even my clothes—the smallest in the house—wouldn't fit her, so lending her my sister's or Mom's was out of the question. Anything from a few years ago had already been cleared out. Nothing left.
What was I supposed to do? I was standing there with my head down, turning it over, when Miss Koga cleared her throat.
"A little loose is fine. Just lend me whatever."
"B-but you'll be uncomfortable..."
She was only staying because I had asked. I couldn't put her through that.
"Pajamas are actually nicer when they're loose, you know. It's fine."
"Eh?"
Loose was fine, if they were pajamas? Loose... pajamas?
"...Ah. I-I have some."
"Hm?"
"P-pajamas Miss Koga can wear. I th-think we have them."
I was pretty sure they were in the closet in Mom's room.
"...It is comfortable, though."
"Hehe."
Fresh from the bath, Miss Koga was wearing the cat onesie I had handed her. Mom had bought it last year on her way home from a business trip, but the pajamas she already had were a little more comfortable, so it had been worn once and then abandoned. I had assumed it would live in the closet forever. Who knew it would actually get used?
It was made for winter, so it might run a bit warm, but with the air conditioner on that was no problem. No—this was a luxury, and I was happy to call it one. Blasting the AC, climbing into winter pajamas, and pulling a blanket over yourself: a pleasure so complete that even the King of Hell would have to admit how good it was. And on Miss Koga the onesie was loose enough to breathe, too.
"...To think I'd be wearing pajamas like these at my age."
Miss Koga sighed as she said it. True, the first time I showed her the onesie, her reaction had been something along the lines of You're telling me to wear this?
But Miss Koga. We have to understand something. Seeing yourself clearly is very important.
For example, my true self is an ultra-cool white-haired middle-aged man whose mental age sits in the forties, but reality is a high-school girl: a hopeless loner with a communication disorder. The world is simply too fragile for me to reveal my true form yet, so I keep it hidden.
Anyway, even if Miss Koga was an adult in fact, her looks were a cute girl through and through. Twenty-four years old, an outrageous Maman power stat, and still—with a face like that, an animal onesie was the only thing that could possibly suit her. Which meant my choice was the correct answer, with not an inch of error.
"Well, the laundry's going. What should we do now?"
I glanced at the computer monitor at her question. The clock read 8:32.
"F-first we should have dinner, shouldn't we?"
"I don't mind, but are you sure, Izumi? You ate lunch late."
"I-I'm fine too."
Lunch had been late, but if dinner slid late as well, my whole schedule would get tangled. Better to eat a little less tonight.
"Good. Then let's keep dinner simple and order in. My treat."
"What? I-if we're ordering, I should be the one p-paying..."
"What does it make me if I let a high schooler feed me? Just let me treat you."
"...Uh, th-that."
If I were in Miss Koga's place, I probably would have said the same thing. But.
"S-saying that wh-while you're wearing th-those clothes..."
"...What?"
"Eek... I-I-I'm sorry...!"
The light vanished from Miss Koga's eyes in an instant. It was far scarier than the giant zombie from that game, and I had no choice but to bow my head and apologize on the spot.
Tch. I only told the truth, and this is the treatment I get.
"Has freedom of the press collapsed...?"
"Stop saying weird things and tell me what you want to eat."
"Ah. I'll have ch-chicken..."
"Chicken? Sure. We'll order one and split it."
But then—if there was chicken? Freedom of the press could collapse and it would be fine, wouldn't it? Chicken was invincible, and cola was a god.
Ah. This was the spot.
Late at night, past eleven.
Obviously, I was pretty sleepy. I had dozed off at an awkward hour after lunch, and then filled up on chicken and cola for dinner. That didn't mean I could just fall asleep, though. Close my eyes, and there was the giant zombie from that horror game.
I was done with horror games, as much as I could manage. Anyone who enjoyed that genre was clearly a masochist.
"Izumi. You asleep?"
"Ah, I'm still awake."
"Hmm."
Miss Koga was lying on a futon spread beside my bed. At first I had felt bad for making her stay, so I offered to share the bed. We were both small enough that the two of us would have fit with room to spare. But when she heard the offer, Miss Koga went red for some reason and asked me to lay a futon out instead, saying she was fine.
...The truth was, I had suggested it because sleeping alone in the bed seemed scary. I couldn't say anything that embarrassing, so the futon went on the floor, and now I was alone in the bed, frightened, unable to sleep properly at all.
"You can't sleep because you're scared?"
"N-no... Yes. I am. Honestly, I'm still a little scared."
"Yeah? Then want to keep talking a little, until you fall asleep?"
"I-I'd like that."
Thank goodness. If Miss Koga had already been asleep, I definitely would have read the room, climbed down onto the floor, and slept with my arms around her.
...Wh-what am I supposed to do? I'm scared.
"Then me first. There was something I wanted to ask."
"Y-yes! Ah, I'll answer anything!"
"You remember the promise from earlier? That we'd collab once a month."
"O-of course I remember. Hehehe..."
It was precious proof that Miss Koga still thought of me as a friend.
"That promise—you didn't just nod because you felt you had to, did you? If that's what it was, we don't have to collab on a schedule. It's all right."
"...Eh?"
What was she talking about?