Shibuya (1)

"Shibuya always puts me in a good mood, no matter when I come."

"Ah, haha."

I answered Hirose Satsuki's words with an awkward laugh.

It was a mid-July afternoon, the sunlight fierce and unrelenting. Hirose and I had come to Shibuya in our school uniforms on the very first day of summer break. When she said she wanted to go out, I'd half-expected Ikebukuro again — but she'd insisted on Shibuya.

By pure subway distance, Ikebukuro and Shinjuku were closer to our neighborhood among the major commercial hubs, but it wasn't as if I was going to dig my heels in and refuse Shibuya on principle.

"Ah·····"

Of course, the crush of bodies that hit me the moment we stepped out of Shibuya Station was enough to scramble my brain.

"This way."

"Huh? Oh — okay."

I just followed Hirose as she smiled and pointed the way with one finger.

"There's so many people, right?"

"Yeah·····"

Like, a ridiculous amount.

Shibuya Station, after all. The place was packed. Even on a weekday afternoon, office workers, students out for summer break, and tourists thronged every direction.

"Why's everyone piled up over there?"

"Hmm? That's the Hachiko statue."

"Ah, right."

Fishing through this body's memories, I found traces of having been here before. Of course, none of it ran deep enough to keep pace with this high-energy high school girl.

And on top of that.

Japanese itself was fine — I'd been using it constantly — but the experiential stuff, the sense of having actually been to places, was growing thinner and thinner in my head. Probably because I'd woken up in this body and my own consciousness had settled in for good. Not that it mattered much. The original owner had never been the studying type, so there was barely any useful information in here to begin with. What little remained was just a handful of memories of hanging around on the streets — which karaoke spots were where in Shinjuku, what the famous crepes in Harajuku tasted like, what the local high school girls did for fun. None of that would be any great loss if it faded completely.

"Hongo-kun, what do you want to eat?"

"I mean, just·····"

I scratched my head, trying to come up with an answer. I didn't want to say "anything," but what was I supposed to go with? Honestly, some karaage or tonkatsu with a mountain of rice sounded perfect. But a girl probably wouldn't be into that.

"Having trouble deciding? There's a pizza place I like near here, and a Chinese restaurant too."

"Yeah? Then pizza?"

"Great!"

Thankfully, Hirose had handed me options, and my answer didn't take long. Japanese-style Chinese restaurants were pretty solid — there was a franchise near my place with gyoza and fried rice, cheap and punchy. But again, not exactly ideal for eating with a girl. Even if it had been one of her suggestions.

"·····"

This is hard.

Last time in Ikebukuro we'd just run into each other and ended up eating together, but today she'd out of nowhere suggested the two of us go hang out. It was a little funny that I'd accepted on the spot and was now overthinking it like this — but I still hadn't gotten used to any of it.

"Hmm?"

"·····"

Heh.

When I just stared at her without saying anything, Hirose winked at me. She was a strange one. I could never quite tell what she was thinking. As a guy, I wasn't about to complain about a pretty girl — but at the same time, someone whose inner workings you couldn't read was always going to be a difficult presence.

More than anything, I wanted to ask why she'd wanted to hang out just the two of us today·····

I'm hungry.

Food first. Talk later.

"Woooow, it's beautiful every single time."

I froze with my fork and knife still in my hands. The food had arrived, and Hirose was taking pictures.

Well.

I privately agreed with her admiration. The pizza place she'd brought me to wasn't the kind that sold the ordinary pizza I knew. This was authentic Neapolitan wood-fired ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pizza from Italy. Each pie was barely bigger than a palm and ran about 800 to 1,000 yen, so Hirose and I ordered three pizzas and a couple of colas.

"The only downside is how hard they are to cut, heehee."

"·····"

I sliced off a piece of margherita and put it in my mouth.

"Ah."

"Good, right?"

"Yeah."

It is good.

There wasn't much meat on it, so I'd expected something bland — but the salt, the oil, and the vegetables came together in this strangely perfect way.

"Hongo-kun, are you sure that's enough? You're going to eat a lot. Don't worry about the money — I'm covering everything."

"No, I'm fine."

Hirose said it with a triumphant air. But as a guy, I couldn't just freeload off a girl. Besides, after a diet of salty side dishes and inhaled rice, bread-based meals never seemed to go down as easily.

"Hey, Hirose."

"Ah — yeah?"

"Sorry, eat first, then talk."

Hirose, who'd been about to open her mouth wide, stopped short. Without meaning to, I'd interrupted her mid-bite. I waited until she'd finished drinking her cola before I opened my mouth again.

"Have you not been hanging out with your usual friends much lately?"

"Hmm?"

"I mean — on a day like today, I figured you'd be out with them."

I asked as carefully as I could, sensing it might come off strangely. Better than just blurting out why she'd wanted to hang out alone with me.

"My usual friends? Hmm, Naomi's working today. We're meeting up tomorrow!"

"Ah, is that so?"

So maybe she just wanted to go out and didn't have anyone else free?

"Oh right — are you wondering about Shiori?"

"Huh?"

Out of nowhere, Hirose brought up Higuchi Shiori.

"Shiori's, hmm — she likes being alone to begin with. And she's probably with her childhood friend, that guy·····"

"No, that's not really what I was curious about."

"Eeh? Really?"

"Yeah."

Hirose looked surprised. Setting aside the fact that I didn't care much about other people's personal lives to begin with — the fact that she'd brought up Higuchi at all meant she knew about the weird bad blood between me and that girl.

But still.

If she'd heard about me and Higuchi, it couldn't have been a good story. So why was she smiling as she brought it up? Had Higuchi said something nice about me to Hirose? That didn't make any sense. Analyzing her personality based on the manga I'd read felt wrong at this point, but if anything, I'd have expected her to claim she knew nothing about me at all.

Hirose really was an unpredictable girl.

"·····"

Higuchi Shiori. And the childhood friend Hirose had been about to mention before I cut her off was almost certainly Kajima Yusuke. The original heroine and hero of this world.

Honestly.

I'd rather not run into them if I could help it. Because the author had wanted a spicy plot, I'd been the guy who harassed the heroine and threatened the hero. Going out of my way to apologize would be a little ridiculous, and I wasn't at the level of just treating them like nothing had happened either. If we met, it would just be uncomfortable — for the guy and the girl both.

But still — they were the protagonists. If I stayed on bad terms with the protagonists, some transcendent god wasn't going to show up and punish me, right? Actually, go ahead and punish me. As long as I still get to play baseball.

"Hongo-kun, is it not sitting right with you? Did I mess up dragging you here?"

"Huh?"

Hirose yanked me out of my pathetic daydream and back into reality.

"Ah — no. It's really good. Just, there's a lot of people here, so it's a bit noisy."

"Heeh. Last time you played baseball in front of way more people than this."

"That's a little different."

"I see. That's interesting."

"·····"

I couldn't clearly explain what made it different. But Hirose didn't seem to think much of it either. It was true that this crowded Shibuya made me a little uncomfortable — and yet Meiji Jingu Stadium, packed with thirty thousand people, had felt more natural to me than the municipal ballpark during the round of sixteen. I didn't really know why.

"Oh my god, this outfit is so cute!"

"·····"

After we finished eating, Hirose and I stepped into a clothing store that had just opened. I didn't know much about it, but she said a brand she liked had opened a location in Shibuya, so of course we had to go.

"Hongo-kun, what do you think of this?"

Hirose grabbed a piece of clothing and held it up against her school uniform top.

"Uh, it's pretty."

"Right?"

Hirose beamed. Sorry, but I had no eye for fashion. Still, she looked like she'd pull off just about anything.

"And this one — oh, this one too."

I stood there digesting my meal while Hirose lost herself browsing the racks.

"Look at her — isn't she adorable?"

"A high schooler? Is she a model?"

"She looks like she walked straight out of a gyaru magazine I used to read."

I must have pretty sharp ears. I could clearly make out the two girls whispering behind me. Hirose really did draw attention wherever she went. This was a women's clothing brand, so of course the store was full of girls — and even among the well-dressed ones, she stood out.

"You sure you don't want to buy anything?"

"Yep! I had fun just looking."

"Got it."

She'd been so into it that I figured she'd walk out with a bag or two, but Hirose just wanted to leave.

"Ah! What's that?"

"Hmm?"

Hirose, whose energy still hadn't dipped all day, pointed somewhere and started walking.

"You can win it for a whole month? That's so cute."

"·····Ah."

What had caught Hirose's eye was a promotional banner outside an arcade — specifically, one for a claw machine. The character looked familiar, and then I placed it: the baby bear mascot she'd lined up for in Ikebukuro last time.

"Hey, hey, let's go try!"

"Huh? Uh, okay."

Claw machines weren't really my thing, but I didn't have a better alternative, and suggesting we just go home felt wrong.

"I'm so nervous — what do I do?"

"Just do it for fun."

Hirose suddenly turned serious and started working the machine.

"·····"

"Ahahahaha! Missed again!"

Three failures in a row. I was pretty sure she'd said she was going to try five times.

"Aaaagh, failed again!"

"·····"

Come on.

I wasn't a claw machine expert, but why did her attempts look so half-hearted? If she'd just shifted it a little to the side, it might have worked — but she kept making hopeless plays and failing.

"Aaah! It's really not happening."

Hirose laughed, having turned 500 yen into scrap paper.

"Let me try once."

"Hmm? You, Hongo-kun?"

"Yeah."

I got her okay and set my hands on the machine.

"·····"

And then, as carefully as a pitcher minding his control, I worked the claw.

Right there.

The perfect spot. Comparing the shape of the claw to the shape of the plush, I found the optimal position and hit the button.

"Oh? Ooooh!"

"·····"

Heh.

The baby bear was snagged by the claw I'd positioned and dragged away. Nowhere to run.

"Hongo-kun, you're amazing! How did you get it on the first try?"

Hirose hugged the won plush to her chest, delighted.

"Can I look at it for a second?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"You won it, Hongo-kun."

"I won it for you to keep."

"Really? Thank you."

Hirose smiled brightly. Something about it felt rewarding.

"·····"

I thought about trying for one more.

"Shall we go?"

"Yeah!"

But I suggested to Hirose that we head out. No need to bankrupt the establishment.

"Hey, Hongo-kun."

"Yeah?"

Outside, I was thinking about how absurdly crowded it still was when Hirose spoke up. The plush she'd just won was in her hands.

"It kind of feels like I've been the only one having fun today."

"Hmm? What do you mean?"

"I don't know — you just seemed like you weren't really enjoying yourself."

"·····"

Hirose scratched her head as she said it. She was still smiling, but the way her eyes flicked away was different from before.

"No, that's—"

I felt like I needed to explain myself. Had today not been fun? No — I was just the kind of person who didn't feel fun easily, no matter what. Meaning it wasn't her fault. But if I said that straight out, wouldn't it sound like I was being snide?

"Did you have fun, Hirose?"

"Eh? Me?"

Hirose pointed a finger at her own face.

"I did have fun. The pizza was good, the clothes were cute, and you won me a plush."

"Yeah?"

Whether she meant it or not, Hirose swayed her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠right index finger and her head side to side in rhythm ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as she smiled.

"You looked like you were having a good time to me too. So, um····· watching you enjoy yourself made me happy."

"Ah·····"

Ah, damn, what am I even saying.

Trying to express my feelings as best I could had produced something weird. I wasn't some creep.

"I see·····"

Huh?

Hirose suddenly went quiet. She pressed her lips together tightly.

"What's wrong?"

"Mmm, sorry — that kind of thing is a little embarrassing."

Huh?

What was there to be embarrassed about? All of a sudden, Hirose hid her face behind the plush.

"Hongo-kun, I'm too shy, so can this little guy talk for me instead?"

"·····Huh?"

"Whe-re-should-we-go-next?"

"·····"

Hirose, face still buried in the plush, spoke in a completely unconvincing voice. Was this just who she was? I really couldn't read her at all.

Huh?

In that moment, a poster snagged my attention.

"Hmm? Hongo-kun?"

And I started reading.

Ah, right.

The place we'd played in the round of sixteen. And Meiji Jingu Stadium — home of the Tokyo Swallows — was pretty close from here. I hadn't particularly been thinking about going to a pro game, but for some reason my heart was suddenly pulling me that way.

"Hongo-kun."

"Huh?"

Crap.

When I was with Hirose, who didn't know much about baseball, I tried to keep the sport out of my head as much as possible. And yet here we were.

"It's evening already. Want to go watch?"

"Huh?"

"I want to go too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!"

Hirose clasped her hands behind her back and smiled.

"Waaaaaah!"

"This is amazing, Hongo-kun! It feels like a festival!"

"Yeah·····"

We actually came.

Hirose and I had arrived at Meiji Jingu Stadium. True to Japan, where baseball was practically the national sport, the stadium was already packed well before first pitch. That part had actually surprised me. I'd been impulsively drawn here, but given how popular baseball was in Japan — and given that Meiji Jingu Stadium sat right in the heart of Tokyo — I'd been certain we wouldn't find same-day tickets. Somehow, though, we'd managed to get some. Outfield seats would've been a bit of a letdown, but we'd even scored infield ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠seats.

Then again — a sport where each team plays well over a hundred games a year, six days a week. Fretting over weekday ticket availability was itself a sign of being baseball-obsessed.

"Look over there — everyone's holding yellow balloons."

"Hmm?"

Where Hirose pointed with a smile, a huge number of fans were holding yellow balloons.

Osaka Tigers.

Those were definitely Osaka Tigers fans, based out of Osaka and the Kansai region. Here and there, spectators in the white-and-yellow uniforms that represented the team were scattered through the crowd. It was strange, though. This was clearly the Swallows' home stadium in Tokyo, and yet the people openly showing Tigers colors far outnumbered the rest.

"Want me to grab some food?"

"Let's go a little later."

"Okay!"

Hirose smiled brightly. I'd felt a little bad about the impulsive decision — and about bringing her to a baseball stadium she didn't know much about — but she seemed surprisingly happy.

"·····"

Huh?

Someone sitting next to Hirose had their head bowed low. The slight flinching now and then suggested they weren't asleep. They seemed to be wearing a Tokyo Swallows uniform — were they sick?

Hirose looked a little flustered too, unsure what to do.

"Excuse me — are you all right?"

I asked for her.

The strange figure slowly lifted their head. Without touching Hirose, I gripped the seat beside me and leaned in.

"Eh?"

"Ah, hahaha."

"Haru-chan?"

"Nagasawa?"

"Ah — h-hello."

Of all people — it was Nagasawa Haruka.

What was she doing here?