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Besides, Room 1701 felt ominous because that blond bellboy was banging on the door like crazy, and this boy and girl seemed to go into Room 1702, right next to it... Ugh, these two are so incredibly shady. If they don't cause any trouble, I'd actually be disappointed. Though I'd be stumped if someone asked, "Disappointed by whom?"

The boy's expression flickered for a moment. It seemed like he sensed I was suspicious. The girl remained completely unresponsive, as if she perceived me on the same level as carbon dioxide, not even a twitch in her eyes. Her lack of movement made me almost mistake her for an inorganic part of the boy's fashion or something. Somehow, neither of them seemed quite... alive.
It's a bad way to put it, but they seemed like "poorly made humans" in a way that wasn't about ability or anything.
Should I really hand over the card key to people like this, just as they asked...? It wasn't my sense of justice, but the blood of self-preservation that tingled. But it was also true that if I said no here, it could lead to trouble.
"Well, here you go. Or rather, what should I call this... It's hard to phrase. Uh, consider it a lost-and-found delivery, I guess."
My sense of danger won out over their shadiness, so I handed it over obediently. As I passed it to the boy's free right hand, his threaded left hand came into the right edge of my vision. Seeing it up close reminded me of home economics class in middle school. I used to imagine how a finger would get pierced if you stuck it in a running sewing machine, and now, of all times, I was seeing something like the real deal. Was this some kind of punishment, or a certificate of their lovey-dovey-ness?
Either way, the fact that they weren't hiding it made it seem certain that this "ki-couple" (try and guess what that's short for) was positioned at the exact opposite of peace and quiet.
I wonder if protagonists in stories look cool because they're these kinds of eccentric, stubborn weirdos carving out their legends.
"In this case, a ten-percent reward would be difficult, so please take this."
With the hand holding the card key, he rummaged in his pocket, and this time, the boy pressed something into *my* hand. I was made to touch it without even the procedure of checking what it was, and a shiver ran down my spine. It was probably because the string connecting the boy and girl was functioning in a bad way. My hips recoiled.
Looking down with vision trembling at the corners, what rested in my palm was a pack of cigarettes. It was a tea-like color, and I didn't recognize the brand. It didn't smell of blood, so I exhaled and relaxed my tense shoulders.
"'Well now, this is quite something,' I said, returning the courtesy, while internally thinking, *I don't need this*, feeling annoyed. I don't even smoke. And I didn't think it was something that suited the boy and girl in front of me either. Somehow, this couple just seemed unnatural when paired with the element of 'luxury items.'"
This too was probably just something they'd found and were foisting off on me.
To use the card key they'd received to enter their room, the boy and girl started back the way they came. I silently let them pass... but was that okay? True, I wanted to avoid trouble, but those two were clearly suspicious, no matter how you looked at it. Too conspicuous to be hotel thieves, but Room 1701 probably wasn't their room. Whether by chance, or by some alluring excuse like "fate," why would they want to get a card key to someone else's room? The wire-mesh-like taglines from my earlier pre-release movie fantasy, flitting about, came back to me. *Weren't you guys just disposable, stopgap fantasies?* *That doesn't matter right now!* I berated myself and forced my head to turn. The retreating backs of the couple. The girl's dangling feet. The string. The card key.
I gripped the cigarettes in my hand tightly. I couldn't crush them like an empty paper cup after finishing its contents. An opportunity to join the story was slipping away. This wasn't the time to just stand by and watch, was it?
"...Hey, hey." *Give me a break,* I thought, shrugging my shoulders at the auditory hallucination. What "story"? Was this the influence of that movie I watched alone a week ago? I'm not the type to crave such a heart-pounding, dramatic moment. Even back in middle and high school, I wasn't in a position to be the protagonist of the classroom story. I doubt I was even a supporting character. Maybe I didn't even have a role.
Well, maybe that's why a longing to be the protagonist might be smoldering inside me, though.
But still, they're certainly oddballs, but just because I got involved with them doesn't mean I'll be celebrated like a beached whale. Just because I rode the same train as a world-famous athlete doesn't make me a hero. Borrowing the tiger's authority is difficult in this day and age.
The auditory hallucination, transcending worldly phenomena, can incite me as it pleases, but I wish it would consider my circumstances as a flesh-and-blood person. This situation of waiting for a girl at a hotel—an unprecedented feat (if it were, humanity wouldn't have prospered, right?)—is already a major, drama-filled event for me. I can't compromise on that.
However, the everyday and the non-everyday. That's where I and that boy and girl are clearly separated. The auditory hallucination is egging me on to leap over that line.
Me, who won't break my gaze from the couple and turn back towards the elevator.
"If you're going to miss such an obvious opportunity, you won't complain if your life is cut short, will you?"
A different auditory hallucination, with the calm, composed tone of an older person, tormented me. Incited me. Became my driving force.
I flipped open my phone, checked the time, and felt relieved that she was still my top priority.
"'......Let's just say it's because of that movie I saw a week ago,' shall we?"
Sense of justice? None. Sense of danger? Present. Nosy curiosity? Plenty.
It'll also be a test of courage before my wonderful hotel time with her.
I jogged after the couple, who were about to disappear around the corner of the hallway, and called out, "Hey, hey!"
"So, uh, as thanks for finding it, could you let me peek into your room for a bit?" I spoke to them, treading the line between stranger and acquaintance, trying not to sound unnatural.
"Our room... you mean?" The boy, who had stopped, shifted his eyes. They didn't waver like the surface of water; his whole gaze seemed fixed.
"That's right. There's something I want to check, to see if it's different from the room I'm staying in."
"No. Please go somewhere else," the girl spoke for the first time. *She can talk,* I reacted, raising my right eyebrow. I'd received a clearly articulated refusal, but I didn't flinch.
Without cowering, I pressed on another step, maintaining a carefree attitude, "Aw, come on, it's fine, it's fine."
"It's not like anything will wear out if I just step into the room for a bit. It's not like I'm a thief or anything."
*Was that last bit unnecessary?* I wondered with a slight twinge of regret, but still tried to sound casual as I made my point. Most people who have business in someone else's hotel room are usually thieves, after all. Or cleaning staff.
The boy was unresponsive, seemingly entrusting the decision to the girl.
"Mine and Mii-kun's time will decrease. You're a nuisance."
The girl didn't yield, pushing me back with her words. A dignified beautiful girl shouldn't be bad, yet somehow, it was hard to face this one. It became a confrontation. There was nothing but hostility from her, towards me.
I wonder if all those lovey-dovey couples out there protect their two-person world peace like this. No, these guys are probably a special make, though.
"Alriiight! Okay, then I'll keep a huuuuge distance! I'll recreate the sense of distance between me and my unrequited crush!"
I blurted that out loudly and put some distance between myself and the couple. I don't have the confidence to argue with a strong-willed woman and win. Even with timid ones, I usually end up giving in. Well, that's college students for you.
Generally, I'm soft on girls. But, "Now recruiting girls who'd grin and say that's a good thing."
I conveniently took the fact that the boy and girl started walking as a sign of tacit approval and followed behind them.
The fact that they weren't adamantly refusing my company meant the possibility of them being thieves was probably slim.
Hmm, this increasingly smells like an incident where profit is a non-factor.
Then, on the way to Room 1701, I tried opening the cigarette pack. Inside were ordinary cigarettes, and a folded photograph was tucked in there too. I sensed a whiff of something moving and unfolded the photo. ...As expected, it's hard to be moved by a photo of some random old guy's family.
The family consisted of a father, a mother, and two children. It looked like they'd taken the photo in some kind of garden. The boy was holding hands with the mother, and the girl with the father. These cigarettes probably belonged to this old guy. Why they ended up in my hands via that boy, though, that was the mystery.
I put the photo back in the box and then put it in my pocket.
Also, I met the white cat again. Its long tail was peeking out from the gap under the vending machine. When I approached, its tail and rear end swayed back and forth as if reacting to something, exposing its lower half outside the vending machine. I felt the urge to grab its butt and pull it out from under there.
Before I could reach out, the cat started moving on its own. It backed away from the vending machine and then dashed off. Just like before. Its destination seemed to be the far end of the hallway, same as the boy, the girl, and me.
The boy and girl were starting to enter Room 1701, so I also chased after the cat towards the room.
The white cat had stopped in front of the room, staring intently at the slowly closing door. If it stayed there, it would be pushed back or crushed by the door. I had no choice but to jog over and hold the door open with my hand. "Hey, move it a little... Not like you'd understand, huh. Animals, I swear..." Even when I spoke, the cat didn't move from my feet. If it *had* listened, that itself would have been astonishing. The boy, who had already entered the room, turned around. The girl clinging to him turned too, as a consequence.
The boy looked down at the cat. Whether the cat thought, "Whaddaya want, punk? You're kinda scary!" or not, it promptly began its dashing escape. *Tap-tap-tap-tap*, it scurried away from the front of the room.
I wonder if that boy possesses something that animals instinctively dislike. Ah, like a smell? Well, whatever.
"Pardon meee," I said to the kids and the room's occupant as I entered. So, what now?
Since they seemed to have lost the card key outside, I'd guessed as much, but the occupant wasn't in the room, and it was quite messy. Nothing particularly incident-rich. If a handgun were lying on the table, or a dead body on the bed or floor, that would be an easy-to-understand way of getting caught in the middle of something. This was an anticlimax.
Unfortunately, no signal fire heralding the core of the story was fluttering anywhere.
I set my sights on the refrigerator and, making up a random excuse, headed towards the back of the room.
I really can't imagine getting involved in the story over something like this. Well, maybe that's fine.
I'm just a nosy onlooker, after all. I should just be content with an embarrassed smile and a touch of disappointment at the conclusion that "nothing happened."
I moved a large bag lying under the window. As I did, the edge of a wad of bills peeked out from a gap in the bag. "........."
In an instant, my blood flow, centered around my neck, temporarily stopped.
I meant to say something, but my internal organs in my upper body just clenched tight, and my vision went black and white.
"See? The story's overflowing, isn't it?"
The auditory hallucination acquired a phantom form and tapped my shoulder with a pale hand. I wanted to believe the chill I felt was because I was near the refrigerator. And spare me the punchline where I stick my head in a hole in the wall only to find it's a guillotine.
I gave an eerie, cheerful laugh, "Eheheh," to cover it up and resumed my actions. I opened the refrigerator and put my hand inside.
"Y'know, the fridge in my room isn't cooling too well. I just wanted to compare and see if everyone else's is the same... Ah, no good. This seems to be the standard."
I said something random like that and waited for my heart to calm down. Glancing sideways at the bag—this cash, no matter how you looked at it, wasn't clean and proper. Normal people don't carry their savings around like this.
A scene like some kind of deal? popped into my head. Men in black suits and sunglasses exchanging cash and goods. At a pier or something. It's a simplistic idea, but for me, a bag stuffed with wads of cash has the two characters for "illegal" printed all over it.
Don't tell me these kids came here targeting this cash?
The incident... could it be that something has already started?
"Ah, I left my phone unattended, what a pain," the boy muttered, moving to fiddle with the cell phone ringing loudly beside the bed. Then, as if his business was concluded, the boy turned back to me.
"We're leaving the room, are you done with your business?" Utterly unaware of my agitation, the boy asked about my intended length of stay. As if urging me to get out quickly.
"Mm, so you're going out again right away?" My mouth was dry, and my tongue felt sluggish.
"Yeah. We were thinking of going to a coffee shop for some cake."
"Huh. In that case, you should really close the window. So careless." I couldn't quite control myself from speaking quickly. Anyway, I pointed out what caught my eye and took action, trying to cover up my lack of composure.

I closed the window and locked it.
"...Haaah." My head hurts. Let's try to think about something else for a bit.
For example, the fact that I visited this room. Could it be connected to someone's life? Unfortunately, from the perspective woven by these two eyeballs of mine, that doesn't seem likely to be understood.
Still, I'll at least wish that it's an influence that might be helpful to someone.
That said, aside from the knowledge of where a large amount of cash is, my only action was closing the window. Maybe some gnats will complain they can't get into the room, that's about it.
The major incident right before my eyes tolled its bell. The long-awaited, decisive phone call rang.
"Whoa, it's here! ...No, it's nothing, excuse me for a sec, or rather, I'm done here, so see ya!" I scurried out of the room in a half-crouch, like a cat on all fours. Before I could even resolve to forget about the contents of the shoe, it had already become secondary.
As I ran, I flipped open my cell phone, and the caller ID display made my stomach lurch, nearly causing me to stumble and fall on my shoulder.
I thought I saw the white cat ducking under the vending machine on the way, but once again, she took precedence over the cat.
Just as I was about to pass the corner, I made a sudden stop that strained my ankles and placed a trembling thumb on the call button. With my whole body still shaking all over, I answered the phone.
"Yes, he-he-hello?" I bit my tongue. Next, it tasted of impatience.
"Hello, Senpaaai?" And her voice brought a taste to my brain like the underside of a cup ice cream lid.
The combined taste of blood and frozen dessert resembled an apple.
"I'll be there in about five more minutes, 'kay? Are you prepaaared?"
She asked for confirmation like that, jokingly. No, she probably didn't mean anything by it, but still, it pierces me like, *thwack*.
"O-Oh yeah, of course. Perfectly!" *Prepared for the tension, that is!*
That was all from her call. "Concise and excellent," I praised her like a modern Japanese teacher, while feeling suffocated by my heart's wailing. Anyway, five more minutes. I'll wait patiently in a calm place.
I sprinted towards my room once. *Ah, I'm already not calm at this point, damn it,* I thought, driven by regret, but then regret itself started running right alongside me. If there hadn't been a wall at the end of the hallway, I might have just started running towards the sunset or something. Thanks to a minute fraction of composure, I managed to stop in front of my room, and then, like some aggressive newspaper solicitor, I slammed my shoulder repeatedly against the door and burst in. Clutching my smarting shoulder, I dived onto the bed without even taking off my shoes.
"Ah, is it bad if it's dirty?!" No, wait, when she succumbs to drowsiness, I have to make sure there's a clean bed ready, right? I hurriedly jumped back, tumbled onto the floor, and brushed the surface of the bed with my palm. The bed became unusable, and I lost my place to be in the room. "Whee!" I tried jumping up and down. Got bored in five seconds. I wandered around the room, occasionally checking for nose hairs and such in the bathroom mirror. It's fine, perfect except for my suspiciously shifty eyes. Next, vocal practice. She probably wouldn't get angry and leave just because my phone manners were terrible, but it's better to be thorough.
"Ah, ah, aah." My throat was hoarse and sore. *I don't feel like I can talk properly with this throat,* I reasoned, and left the room again in search of a drink. My stay had been about five minutes, which just goes to show how little composure I had right now. Anyway, staying in one place was agony at the moment.
I jogged down the hallway. Regret must have been exhausted; it didn't come out of the room. With thirty percent of my brain empty, I felt like a ninja going *statatata* when—"Whoa!"—the phone rang. "Ah, wha, wha—" Too sudden. The electronic sound of the cell phone echoed horribly in my empty head. The phone juggled spectacularly in my hand.
The promised five minutes later seemed to have arrived.
I ran to a convenient corner in the hallway, then crouched down and pressed the phone to my ear after hitting the call button. I had a feeling that man in the green hat and that shady middle-schooler couple were at the elevator, looking this way, but my nervousness won out over my embarrassment.
"Hello, Senpaaai?"
"Yes, he-hel-hello?" *Man, our reactions just now were like copies of each other.*
"I've arrived downstairs nooow." *She arrived in her underwear!* I was flustered enough that if you wrote it down, you might read it that way, but I just managed to reply, "O-Oh, I see." I felt like I was going to bite my tongue again.
Partway through, that boy and girl from before overtook me. They nodded, so I nodded back while glancing at their hands. The bag stuffed with that cash wasn't in their four hands. What on earth was their purpose for going into that room? Or rather, if they were coming from behind me, does that mean they were still in that room after I left? Definitely suspicious.
"It seems like the elevators here need a card key or something." "Ah, yeah, looks like it." "Going up the stairs with guts is an option, too, buuut, could you still come meet me at the front desk floor?" "O-Ok-k-kay, I'll be right there then." "Okay, I'll be waiting and waiting!"
With her drawn-out "waiting and waiting" echoing in my ears, I hung up the phone. Then, I stomped hard on the carpet once, took a deep breath. Closed my eyes, meditated briefly. Exhaled, and dashed towards the elevators.
No need to envy the two couples waiting for the elevator; I could line up right next to them. "Oh, here it comes, here it comes. Let's get on, let's get on," I said, taking the lead in boarding the elevator, and then, when it descended to the front desk floor, I got off first. *My cell phone's not needed anymore,* I thought, and as I went to put it in my pocket, I noticed the cigarette pack.
I headed towards the center of the lobby, deliberately slowing my pace to pretend I wasn't eager. But that only lasted for about three steps, and eventually, I broke into a quick walk.
Guided by her voice, calling "Senpaa-wee" with a slight trill, I changed direction.
Before I finished turning, I lightly raised my right hand, putting on the best possible show for our meeting with a naturally overflowing smile.
Because from now on, in the room with her... well, it's gonna be this and that, you know.
"Hey, hey." My tongue curled upwards with a *gwurun*. *Agagaga,* the underside of my tongue cramped.
In the lobby, just as splendid as today's fine weather, was my beautiful girlfriend, and... standing next to her was a woman I had no memory of ever meeting before.
"......" My biceps froze.
She and the woman next to her were both beaming, rays of light practically shooting from their smiling faces.
Like sunflowers, remnants of summer, two blooming flowers approached me with their smiles.
I'm neither a man blessed with good fortune nor an extravagant person, so one of them would have been plenty.
I like pretty older women. But I liiike younger college girls even moooore.
Not a lolicon, though. I don't like middle schoolers or anything. And Anjou-san is an exception!

---
**Shiina Kouji**
*3:20 PM*

When I looked back as if grasping for something, there was the presence of a person from a window far, far away.
A girl, her face poking out of the window, was staring this way.
The girl was looking on nonchalantly with wide eyes, but my heart clenched tight, and my waist and back hunched over.
The detrimental effects accompanying my extended stay in the non-ordinary came rushing in.
Her seemingly innocent expression twisted the moment our eyes met. A malicious, top-notch smile.
I fought the urge to loosen my fingertips, and my dry throat exhaled a ragged breath.
I can't move. All because of the gaze of one small girl, about middle-school aged. If it's a life form with two arms, eyeballs, and, while we're at it, an understanding of phones and crime, it can corner me regardless of age.
Even after living for fifty-three years, it's not like I've particularly evolved in any way. Adults aren't necessarily superior to children, and wasn't the only thing I "won" against my son just "lifespan"?
The girl was smirking, observing me with an air of composure. Was she mocking my ridiculous appearance? Her composure stemmed from the sufficient distance, knowing she wouldn't be immediately stormed and dragged out the window.
A week ago, I too was in that position. I had lost various things, but still. I was in a position to observe a situation full of bizarre actions. What was on TV wasn't reality. But now, I'm constantly betting my life and existence, unable to spend any stable time at all. I have no idea what kind of life tomorrow's me will be leading.
Once, the wind blew strongly. A lukewarm, gentle wind, tinged with the twilight of a few hours hence. It caressed my neck and hair, and I shivered with cold. The girl closed one eye, holding down her hair as it was fanned by the wind.
Being seen like this by a hotel guest is a life-or-death matter for me, yet my mind refuses to work at all.
The girl seemed to be trying to convey something by mouthing words. Combined with her provocative expression, she looked like she was teasing me.
She was resting her chin on her hands by the window, seemingly waiting for my reaction. Treating me like a pet. What I found strange, though, was that she didn't immediately scream in surprise and resort to calling the authorities... Come to think of it, that woman from before didn't have such a typical reaction either. Well, that woman seemed decadent, or rather, like a suicide-aspirant, so her lack of motivation was understandable, but what about this girl? Does she want to commit suicide too?
Either way, this hotel, including its guests and a suspicious character like me, seems to be full of eccentrics. I wonder if they made flyers with a catchphrase like, "Accommodation fee waived for those confident in their eccentricity."
My head, somewhat in escape-from-reality mode, kept producing nothing but useless prose unrelated to my life. Useless bastard.
The girl turned as if called by someone from inside the room and quickly pulled her head back in. Just before closing the window, her slender, outstretched right hand waved "bye-byyye" at me.
And then, her fingertips pointed "this way, this way," indicating a path for me to take in the exact opposite direction from her. There wasn't enough proximity to ask what that meant, and the window was completely shut.
I slowly, cautiously brought back my recoiled hips and adjusted my footing, one foot at a time.
What was that girl insinuating with her pointing?
I can't help but think of her as a figure like a little girl from a fairy tale who teases adults.
".........I want a cigarette." Which is why...
...I've created a value system that focuses only on the process, unconcerned with whether the results are good or bad, so I can't see the future. I can't face what's to come. I find myself wishing to just be swept along.
However, either way. Staying here won't solve anything.
Before someone reports me, I have to escape somewhere again.
Even I understand that much.
It was also a simple fact that the only place I had to go was in the direction the girl had indicated.
Even if it's an instruction from someone, it's better than not acting at all.
I look behind me. An instant dead end. Like a calamity that suddenly befell my life. Either way, I can't retreat. There's only escape or advance.
If I escape, ten seconds of complete release or freedom. If I advance, ten minutes of pain and continued anguish.
But what lies beyond them doesn't even need to be compared.
Because stability is something that should be granted by the dominion of gravity.
Once more, I scraped my foot along the edge. If I don't have the energy to walk bravely, I can just slip and proceed while terrified.
A smile appeared for the foot that had finally begun to move forward one step's worth. Though it probably looked quite strained.
In elementary school, a teacher once said. If you do things at your own pace and in your own way, eventually even unpleasant things will end. It depends on whether you hate falling behind others, or wish to finish unpleasant things without overdoing it, though.
That's how they encouraged me, who ate school lunch so slowly I couldn't go out to the playground during lunch break.
To think that now, of all times, those words would rouse me.
I'll go back. I'll go back to my everyday life, in my own way.

---
**Yamana Misato**
*3:15 PM*

The old guy was gone. He didn't even leave his old-man smell in the room; like a bird taking flight, he left no trace.
I tried knocking on the bathroom, but no response. With this, there's no one in this room to stop me. Wahahahaha!
......No, it should be normal for no one to be here from the start, though.
What was with that old guy? Oh well, may happiness be with him.
For now, I closed the door and sat on the edge of the bed. I tried to hook my fingernail under the pull-tab of the juice can to open it, but it wasn't going well. Just the *clink, clink* sound of my nail and the metal repelling each other.