Chapter 54: Are you human?

Reading Settings

Translated and Edited by: luccayn.

Common Honorifics:
-san: A polite suffix, but not excessively formal.
-kun: A common suffix among friends and younger people.
-chan: A common suffix among people you're close with, mostly used for feminine nicknames and girls, since it's cutesy and childlike.
-senpai: A common suffix and noun used to address or refer to one's older or more senior colleagues in a school, workplace, dojo, or sports club.

---

It was the morning of the school trip.

In the end, I wasn't able to uncover many hints about the heroines' pasts. Honestly, it was largely because I had caught a cold and couldn't attend school.

It's such terrible timing that I can't help but feel pathetic. But to be fair, I'm naturally somewhat frail. One reason my homeroom teacher, Shinkai, doesn't complain even if I skip classes is probably because my gaunt physique makes my occasional illnesses seem credible.

In other words, there are plenty of times when I genuinely end up needing a medical certificate. This time was no exception—I fell ill right on cue with the changing of the seasons.

Seriously, life never goes as planned.

“Pathetic.”

After putting on my uniform, I packed three sets each of newly laundered shirts, white shirts, pants, socks, towels, and toiletries into my Boston bag. Then, after donning a mask, I stepped out of the house. I didn't pack pajamas because, as I would have a room to myself, I could just borrow the yukata provided.

Although my fever had subsided, I still felt as lousy as I did lying in bed. At 6 a.m., when the sun had barely risen, I trudged toward school in the chilly morning air, accompanied by the distant sound of newspaper delivery bikes.

My head felt foggy. I could only hope the loxoprofen I had taken earlier would kick in soon.

“…Good morning, Shinji-kun.”

She was there at our usual meeting spot. Wearing a snug knit top and a long pleated skirt, she stood with a 39-liter suitcase and a worried expression.

Not that it mattered, but seeing how classy her outfit was made me realize that overly elegant attire doesn't come across as flashy—it just seems refined. Was it the fabric? Or perhaps the detailed design? Whatever the case, Michiru's clothes were clearly high-end.

“Morning, Michiru. What's this? Were you waiting for me?”

“Y-yeah. You still look like you're struggling—are you okay?”

“Don't worry about it. I'll handle Hareta's and the heroines' tasks just fine.”

“That's not what I meant. I'm worried about you, Shinji-kun.”

“I'm fine—fit as a fiddle.”

Trailing behind my unsteady steps, Michiru followed along, looking worried. When I braced myself against a wall, she rushed to support my shoulder from behind, gazing up at me with concern. Don't make that sad face—it's the school trip, for crying out loud.

“If I'd ignored your protests and taken care of you, maybe you'd be doing better now.”

“Nah, that'd have been more trouble if you'd caught it too.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“Really, really?”

“Really, really. If you're coming along, just chat with me like usual about random stuff.”

“…Then let me ask you this. Why are you in your uniform? It makes no sense.”

There it was—that little hint of sass and unnecessary commentary. That's just so Michiru Tsukino.

“I don't have any proper clothes for spring or autumn. In summer, I wear aloha shirts and shorts that the boss brought me back from a trip to Hawaii.”

Michiru unexpectedly burst out laughing. It was the kind of laugh that suggested she'd seen me in that outfit before. Wait—on the festival day, I was in a traditional samue¹. Did she spot me somewhere else during summer vacation?

“So, what do you do in winter?”

“I wear my uniform with an old navy duffle coat my grandma used to use. Since it's a women's coat, the buttons are reversed, and it's a bit awkward to wear.”

“Pfft, what's that? Want me to buy you some clothes?”

“Idiot, that'd be too much of a handout.”

“To me, clothes and food aren't all that different, you know.”

She might have been pushing herself, but Michiru seemed to have returned to her usual self. Her normal behavior made it easier for me to relax. And honestly, when your mind is at ease, your body tends to feel better too.

Then came the homeroom roll call. With one bus per class, there were six massive vehicles lined up, a spectacular sight. For someone like me, who had never been on a bus before, it was a little exciting.

“Good morning.”

When I greeted them, the heroines responded with apologetic looks. If they disliked me, the logical thing would have been to mock me for being sick.

As I was pondering that, Hareta appeared, his face inscrutable. After glancing at my complexion, he muttered with furrowed eyebrows, “So, Takatsuki, you really are human, huh. You okay?”

Shut up.

Feeling irrationally irritated, I ignored them and boarded the bus. As if it were preordained, Michiru sat down beside me. Finding it odd, I checked the seating chart in the itinerary booklet, and sure enough, Michiru's seat was next to mine.

“Wasn’t Yamakawa supposed to be sitting next to me?”

“The plans changed.”

I glanced over at Yamakawa. The guy just gave me an awkward wink and waved his hand lazily.

While I was out of the loop, it seemed my classmates had cooked something up. Unease swirled in my chest, but the bus started moving with a low engine rumble. Not wanting to get dragged into unnecessary trouble, I squinted my eyes, gazing up at the narrow strip of blue sky as if seeking escape.

“Shinji-kun, Shinji-kun,” Michiru called softly, even though we hadn't even reached the highway yet.

“What?”

“Let's play a deduction game. Can you come up with a question? I'll definitely solve it!”

She seemed to be looking for something to pass the time. Honestly, the meds were making me a little drowsy, so I'd have preferred if she'd just let me be. But ignoring her would probably lead to something even more annoying. It was better to come up with a question quickly and get it over with.

“When mandarins sell well, thefts increase. Why is that?”

“Huh?? Wait, wait, say that again! One more time!”

“…When mandarins sell well, thefts increase. Why is that?”

I repeated the question and then closed my eyes. The gentle swaying of the bus was oddly comforting, and as I relaxed, the chatter of my classmates gradually filtered into my ears. It seemed like some seating arrangement issue was the topic of discussion. Among the noise, the conversation between Hareta and the “heroines” was the most distinct.

“Kou-san, have you ever been to Kyoto?”

“Yeah, I have. I once stayed overnight at a temple.”

“Really? Like a one-day temple experience? What did you do?”

“I woke up early, helped clean the temple, ate vegetarian temple food, practiced meditation, and did some sutra copying. Something like that.”

“Wow, that's pretty much a full monk experience, huh?”

The conversation felt different from the usual flattery. I wasn't particularly knowledgeable about religion or Buddhist rituals, but Hareta's experiences piqued my interest. Could this have been some sort of family-related event for him?

“Ugh…”

“What's wrong, Michiru?”

“I don't get it! What's the connection between mandarins and theft?!”

“Isn't the point of deduction to create a theory linking seemingly unrelated things?”

“Still, this is way too hard! Give me a hint!”

“Alright. ‘When the wind blows, the cooper makes a profit.'”

Michiru blinked a few times, resting her chin on her hand and tilting her head thoughtfully. She fell silent, so I shifted my attention back to Hareta's voice.

“When was this, by the way?”

“When I was in elementary school.”

“Who did you go with? Alone?”

“No way. It was part of a kids' club event. Probably something the president was into.”

“Heh. That must've been a real pain for anyone who wasn't interested.”

“I thought so too back then. But now, it's a good memory.”

Hareta answered without sarcasm or pretense, his tone refreshingly genuine. It made his popularity annoyingly understandable. Perfect guys without flaws are really irritating—and helping them out feels even worse—

“…Huh?”

I wasn't as irritated as I thought I'd be. Why was that?

“I've got it! Thieves must love mandarins!”

Michiru, now wearing a confident but silly expression, proudly pointed her finger in the air.

“If that's your theory, then you'll have to explain why thefts would increase when apples sell well, too.”

“Ehh!? Uh, well… um, another hint!”

“When dogs face west, their tails face east.”

“I don't know that saying!”

“It just means ‘something obvious.'”

Michiru, now red-faced, pouted as she mulled over the problem. Her furrowed brow and pursed lips made her look a little silly—but strangely endearing. The contrast between a Madonna and an approachable goofiness was paradoxical, but I found myself liking this side of her more.

“I give up! What's the answer? Tell me, Shinji-kun!”

“It's because winter has begun.”

“What?! How does that even make sense!?”

What a lively girl. She was like the clear, sunny sky on this crisp autumn day.

“Mandarins, as everyone knows, are the quintessential companion to the kotatsu. They're at their best, fully ripe, in the colder months from September onwards.”

“Uh-huh…”

“And thieves become more active from autumn's travel season through the year-end. In short, mandarins sell well because people leave their homes for outings, creating opportunities for theft. It's a matter of correlation.”

This kind of reasoning, I thought, was the essence of deduction. When inspiration strikes, even the most seemingly unrelated pieces of information can connect to reveal an obvious conclusion. In fact, searching for causation can sometimes obscure the answer entirely.

That's why I often said people overestimated me. Things like this were mostly just a matter of luck and intuition.

“Then, things like clearer skies or more wildfires could work as answers too?”

“Exactly. You catch on quick.”

“Arrgh! So frustrating!”

From her expression, she seemed to have accepted the answer. If it helped her stave off boredom, I'd done my job.

“Want to keep going?”

“…Nah. I'm going to sleep. Wake me when we arrive, okay?”

She probably stayed up late, excited about the trip. Michiru pulled her blanket up to her chin and closed her eyes. She seemed even less like an idol than before. As I wondered what she was leaving behind and moving toward, I let out a small sigh.

After staring out the window for a while, I noticed Michiru's breathing slow as she fell asleep, leaning against my shoulder. “Such a calculated move,” I muttered, pinching her pale cheek.

When her face twisted into a pained expression, as if from a bad dream, I adjusted her blanket and looked out the window again, pretending not to notice.

A green road sign indicated we were entering Kyoto. Michiru stirred slightly. This time, I couldn't just ignore it. Without looking at her, I gently held her small, cold hand under the blanket.

“…Don't go,” she mumbled.

Hearing her sleep-talking confirmed that she was dreaming. I had no idea who she was pleading with, nor could I connect her words to anything I knew of Michiru's past.

---

That little riddle with the mandarins and the thieves was cool. Didn’t think of that.

1 — Samue is the work clothing of Japanese Buddhist monks and nuns. It’s that generic blue fabric you often see used by more traditional characters, such as Gojou from My Dress-up Darling. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samue

---

Thank you for reading! Feel free to comment your opinions below!

Also, if you enjoyed my translation and would like to feed my caffeine addiction, click on the button below and graciously give me my fix—I mean, a cup of coffee.