"Why can't I come with you?"
Her cheeks puffed up in displeasure, a slight sign of her anger softening.
"Because it will turn into a fight. My aunt opposes me living here. On the surface, my uncle seems understanding, but he's actually against it too."
That was true. It's a fact so clear that I don't need any foresight abilities. I never want to meet them in my life.
I pulled Mayu close, holding her by my knees. Without resisting, she nestled into my arms. I caressed her hair and played with a strand of her brown hair.
"We might not be in the same room for the school trip, but we can still hang out together."
There's no one else she'd hang out with anyway. Ha... That's not funny.
"We're living together, so can't you endure it?"
I gently patted her back, like comforting a baby. With the onset of winter, she finally wore long sleeves and no longer sweated. I took a whiff of her scent—it was so pleasant I could use it as incense.
"...Okay. I'll bear with it."
It was the maximum concession from the spoiled girl.
She hugged me tightly, burying her face in my shoulder.
We stayed like that for a while, embracing each other in silence.
It lasted for about ten minutes.
"...Alright, let's clean up."
My sense of responsibility as a cleaning committee member urged me to clean up the glass mess. As I tried to stand up, leaving Mayu on the floor, she said:
"I'll do it."
"No, it's dangerous. I'll handle it."
"It's fine! Mii-kun, just rest!"
Despite her love for cleanliness, Mayu, who disliked cleaning and tidying up, enthusiastically headed towards the kitchen. Along the way, she tripped or hit her elbow on the wall, making a dull sound. A few seconds later, she came rushing back. In her hand, she held bamboo chopsticks and a plate. With those chopsticks, she began picking up the glass shards.
Mayu, who lacks depth perception, struggled to pick up even the larger pieces of glass.
"Do you need help?"
"Nyah!"
I was warned off, so I just advised her not to pick them up directly.
Then, I lay down spread-eagled on the spot.
The wooden floor was hard and cold.
It felt strangely comfortable.
Looking at the cheap ceiling light, my thoughts wandered.
I pondered over the lies I had told,
dreamed of my encounter with Natsuki Kamijou,
and searched my feelings about the murder victims.
To shut out all these thoughts, I closed my eyes.
The warmth of Mayu's hand that had lingered on my back was swallowed by the cold of the floor.
Then, Sunday arrived.
Today, there was a heavy downpour.
It was an impressive torrential rain.
Although it was forecasted to clear up by the afternoon, even the weather forecaster seemed skeptical.
"Hey, we don't have to go out today, right?"
Mayu, who unusually woke up before 9:30, glanced out the window and made that suggestion.
"...No, we should go at least once before the trip."
I gently declined and started to get ready.
Mayu stood there with a solemn expression.
Since it takes over forty minutes on foot to get to the designated department store, we needed to leave the apartment around ten. Borrowing a black foldable umbrella from Mayu, I headed to the entrance.
"Wait a minute!"
As I was about to wear my slightly dirty shoes, Mayu stopped me.
Then she applied the lipstick she was holding.
Tilting my head in confusion, Mayu finished applying her rouge and suddenly kissed my cheek.
She pressed hard, almost as if she was trying to peel off my skin.
"Hey, that hurts!"
Mayu released her lips. She glanced at the spot she had kissed and smiled contentedly.
"Don't wipe it off."
"...Even the drool?"
"No way!"
She brushed off my hand and showed me a mirror.
A kiss mark, slightly more intense than Mayu's lips, was painted on my cheek. The mirror also reflected the drool that had trailed down my cheek to my chin.
"...I'm off."
"Okay, take care!"
I was forced to expose my embarrassment to the world as I left the apartment.
I arrived at the department store in front of the station a little past 10:45. The road was so flooded that water seeped into my socks with each step.
But even though it's a department store, the building had a rustic charm. If city buildings lined up next to it, it would shrink back, overshadowed.
Even so, under the shelter of its roof, people of all ages gathered, and I was surprised at the crowd.
After shaking off the rain from my umbrella and closing it, I stood in front of an information board and looked around. That's when I noticed the source of the sweet scent. A shop that kneads wheat or other starches with water, adds yeast, ferments, bakes with care, and sells the resulting food product - in short, a bakery. It seems there's a food section on the first floor.
And there, at that bakery, was a peculiar customer who caught my attention.
A woman with a striking appearance was silently sampling the bread. A long-sleeved shirt with around five alternating black and white stripes. She wore a skirt of a similar design. The shirt was quite oversized, revealing her shoulder, and a glimpse of her underwear strap could be seen. Additionally, her pale blonde hair, which could almost be considered white, was tied up at the back of her head with a hairpin, seemingly out of place for the time.
This woman seemed to have taken a liking to green bread kneaded with spinach. She wasn't buying them, but instead, she was continuously consuming the sample-sized bread pieces. With her momentum, even if she mistakenly ate a product, no one would dare object. I sympathetically glanced at the store clerk, who was visibly distressed and seeking help from the surrounding bystanders, but just then, the woman turned to look in my direction.
She seemed to push the contents of her puffed cheeks down into her stomach, trying to shape up.
She grabbed the yellow umbrella that was propped up, swung her handbag, and approached with light footsteps. Her blue sneakers, unaffected by the dampness from the rain, made no sound against the floor.
"Ah, hello. I'm Natsuki Kamijou."
With a gentle smile, she bowed in front of me. She apparently already knew about Mii-san's appearance. Naturally.
"Ah, hello, I'm Mii."
I greeted her back, addressing the detective in attire reminiscent of a prison uniform.
Then, I unabashedly admired her appearance.
The person I was waiting for was not only dressed distinctively but had an exceptionally unique face.
It wasn't just about the details, like her small nostrils or narrow, glossy eyes.
She looked too young.
No matter how favorably I looked, she seemed to be around our age. Was it makeup magic, or had she mastered the art of retaining her youth? Or perhaps some unique breathing technique that activated cells?
"Is there something lacking in my face?"
As she adjusted the bangs over her eyes, Natsuki-san posed this probing question.
"Well... it lacks artistic quality. I'd like something more avant-garde."
"You have an artist's perspective. As expected from someone who can unashamedly walk around with a kiss mark on their cheek."
"Oh, this? It's an occupational hazard."
I touched the cheek in question, attempting to shield it from Natsuki-san's gaze. But I didn't try to remove the mark. If asked why, there was no real reason. If pressed, it would be some trivial thing. But that's a lie.
"For a detective to not only sample but eat bread from the shelves without paying, it seems you've misunderstood your authority," I remarked.
Natsuki-san's laughter remained unbroken. She laughed with a hint of sadness, her eyes cast downward.
"I was so worried about whether you'd come this morning that I couldn't eat anything."
"So you ate bread? That's logical."
"Oh, you're quite skilled."
She chuckled, reminiscent of a housewife from a certain popular anime, almost as if she'd start playing rock-paper-scissors out of the blue.
Interrupting our conversation, I accompanied Natsuki-san to the escalator, ignoring the resentful stares from the bakery. It was my first time in this department store, so I left it to Natsuki-san's confident steps to lead the way.