My ideal summer vacation involved shutting myself away and playing games for hours on end—but to keep my life reasonably enriched from here on out, there was something I needed.
Yes, ¥. Phrasing it like that made it feel like I was moving huge sums of money around, which felt kind of cool. Truth be told, my plan was to use this long break to gain some "social experience" (read: a complete facade). In fact, today was already my first day on the job.
"Are you really sure about this? It's not like the hourly pay is high."
"No, it's plenty. It's not like I'm looking for a massive amount of pocket money."
The place I’d found after an exhaustive search was this secondhand bookstore where the cuckoos were practically screaming—it was dead quiet and paid absolute minimum wage. If I had to complain, it was just the noise from the cars near the overpass. It was an independently owned shop, run entirely as a hobby by the Old man. The selling point was that because the hourly wage was low, the work was incredibly easy. Most importantly, the type of people who acted like rowdy customers didn't usually set foot in a secondhand bookstore.
"I'll handle the appraisals, price tagging, and inventory, so can I leave the shelf organization and customer service to you?"
"Wait, is that really all you need me to do?"
"Someone who'll actually talk to the customers is a godsend."
This Old man was surprisingly "hip" with his use of the word "god." I bet there were light novels tucked away somewhere in here... Well, leave the organizing to me. My clerical skills were about to catch fire! Wait, catching fire is bad...
I'd already gained some experience in that field during a convenience store job over the spring break before high school started. Moreover, that was a dark era I’d managed to keep hidden even from Nee-chan. I remembered it being relatively heavy work and quite exhausting. I’m never doing that again—especially teaching Japanese to that foreign colleague, Reg-san. That was such a pain. Why did they even hire him?
Compared to that, look at this bookstore. As long as you handle the books with care, the customers are almost entirely the type who don't want to talk if they can help it. Gals or punks who read secondhand books are basically a fantasy.
"Hah? You don't sell cigarettes here?"
"Ah, this is just a secondhand bookstore."
Ah, I guess things like this do happen. Once I go on break, I'll write a "Tobacco Not Sold Here" sign and post it at the entrance. ...In a bookstore? Should I write it in Mincho font or something? Maybe use a brush pen on some yellowed paper.
Since I spent most of my working hours organizing books, the register was almost always empty. Totally hollow... My brain starts to rot when I'm idle. Being idle when I'm in work mode is actually more painful than being busy.
"Manager, I'm done with the books."
"R-Really...?! You actually are... hiring you was a real win."
"Wait, was there someone else you were considering?"
"A guy with piercings all over his face and blonde hair—"
"Ah, okay, I get it. My condolences."
"Sorry about that..."
He was easy to deal with. This Old man was so easy to talk to, a world apart from the Master of a certain dojo. He wasn't even holding a bamboo sword. It felt like he’d actually escaped the Showa era. Welcome to Heisei—wait, that's already over. I need to get out of here too. Can you keep up, Old man?!
"It makes such a difference just having one person here. Though I suppose it's also thanks to your efficiency."
"I used to work at a convenience store, after all. With this amount of work, it's actually harder for me if I'm not doing something."
"Good, good. You can head out for the day. It's not my hobby to steal time from the youth."
"Wait, but it's only been three hours—"
"I'll make sure to log it as five, so don't worry. You've already finished eighty percent of the usual daily tasks."
Is this place the best or what? Also, is this shop going to be okay? I joined this failing shop just to take it easy, but I feel like I'm going to get really attached to it. Oh man, what should I do? Just you wait, Old man, I'm going to make you the most beautiful Mincho font signs you've ever seen.
◆
"Eleven o'clock... seriously?"
I stood under the overpass where the sound of cars echoed, stuffing my face with a meat bun. It was still morning. I couldn't believe I was already done with work. At this rate, most shops were just flipping their signs to "OPEN." For real? Is it really okay for me to get paid for this? Won't I get struck by divine punishment?
"Don't you mess with me, you brat!!!"
Wait, am I getting punished in real-time? Seriously, Old man, did you not like the Mincho font? Did you notice that I got a little ink stain on the table...? I guess I had it coming.
No, jokes aside, this looked bad. What should I do? It was a secluded spot; was a high school girl getting harassed? I’d accidentally walked right up to them without noticing, so they'd probably see my back if I tried to run.
"...Wait?"
Oh, they're small. Tiny. It looked like some middle schoolers on their way to club activities were bullying a primary school boy. Now that I think about it, since the other side of this area is a business district, the neighborhood is actually pretty safe. Our school is the only high school around, too. It was kind of a letdown.
If it's just that—well, fine.
"Hey, cut it out."
"—Gah, a high schooler!?"
I don't really know why, but before I knew it, I had stepped out in front of the middle schoolers without a second thought. I really wasn't thinking. What am I doing... but strangely, I felt a mysterious surge of confidence. Was it because the opponents were clearly just middle schoolers? Did I just get a boost of ego after entering high school?
"What's your problem?! You wanna die?!"
"Ah, okay, okay. Just hit me already. Sheesh... Are you okay, kid?"
"Wh... What's with you?"
"Are you hurt? Did they just push you down? Good, good. Can you stand?"
Being threatened with voices that were still cracking wasn't very scary.
I helped the sobbing boy up and checked him for injuries. When I asked if anything hurt, he nodded properly. The bag that had been tossed nearby didn't have a single scratch. If it had been a traditional school bag, it would have been easier to tell if this was regular bullying. So even primary schoolers are on summer vacation now.
Completely ignoring the middle schoolers and their posturing, I took care of the boy. The middle schoolers eventually walked off with their bags, grumbling. I could hear them badmouthing me from a distance. Little punks.
Shaking it off, I asked him in as gentle a tone as possible—well, a proper, adult-like tone.
"Can you tell me your name?"
"Sa... Sasaki—"
No way.
"Sasaki Kota."
Oh, he was wearing a name tag—Sasaki Kota. For some reason, I felt incredibly relieved. If it had been that Sasaki from class, my reaction might have changed a bit. Yuki-chan... I wonder what her brother would be like if she had one. I don't know why, but I feel like he’d be the type to grow up way too fast.
"I see... Do you have a way to contact your family?"
"Nn..."
Sasaki Kota reached for the name tag on his chest. "Sorry for a sec," I said as I turned the tag over. There was a piece of paper tucked inside that said "Emergency Contact." I see, so that's why he was still wearing it even though it was summer vacation. I felt like that might actually be dangerous in its own way... Oh well. Anyway, it was more dangerous to walk around with him aimlessly. An overpass is the worst kind of place for this, so I called the number immediately.
"Ah, is this the Sasaki residence? Actually—"
◆
After buying a Pocket Wetty at a convenience store, I was wiping down his bag in a plaza where some elderly people were sunbathing when a woman who was clearly distraught came running over.
The first thing that caught my eye was her fluttering long skirt. My mood lifted at her sophisticated appearance—she looked exactly like a college student. A total "older sister" type had appeared. This was a classic lucky break—wait, no, stop that...
After looking around for a bit and spotting Kota-kun standing next to me, she ran toward us, calling his name. Kota-kun also shouted "Big sister!" and ran to hug her.
"Ko-kun...! Thank goodness... Are you hurt?"
"Yeah, I'm okay, Big sister!"
It looked like a scene straight out of a primary school ethics textbook. The kind of thing they'd dramatize on an educational channel... Even though it was a cliché reunion, seeing it in person made me go "Ohhh..." a little bit. I would have preferred to watch it as a total stranger, though. The scene before me was so wholesome it didn't feel real... Am I really part of this?
It would be nothing but suspicious if I just left immediately, so I decided to give her a proper explanation. I wondered if I could keep my cool...
"Um, excuse me. I'm the one who called you earlier."
"! Ah, yes, you're the one..."
It is I—ah, no, no, I wasn't trying to be funny.
Looking at her from the front, she was a total "older sister." A soft, airy aura was just overflowing from her. College students really were on a different level than high schoolers. I wondered if Natsukawa or even Ashida would evolve like this. I'd hate to see some sudden mutation and end up getting flustered by Ashida.
"It was near the overpass just down that way—it was on my way home, but it looked like some middle schoolers were picking on him, so I stepped in."
"Yes, um, thank you so much...!"
"Oh, no, please don't worry about it. Also, I haven't heard the full details from Kota-kun yet. You can listen to his story once he's calmed down, but when you get home, please check if there are any excessive scratches on his bag. I don't know if this was the first time something like this has happened."
"Y-Yes! I'll check at home..."
I told her that I hadn't seen any physical violence like hitting or kicking, and just mentioned the things I was concerned about. It’s not often that someone listens so earnestly to what I have to say, so I accidentally put a lot of effort into the advice. I'm glad I was wearing a polo shirt. See, polo shirts look kind of adult-like, right?
Still, facing her directly, this Sasaki-san was seriously incredible. Her sleeves were all fluttery, and maybe because she’d been running under the summer sun, the fabric was clinging to her just a little... This was bad. If I kept talking to her, my trashy side was going to start leaking out. I didn't want such a beautiful person to look at me with disgust. It was definitely time to retreat.
"Well then, please take care—"
"Ah, um... excuse me. Is there any way I can contact you...?"
There it was... I'll introduce myself, I'll introduce myself. It would only be suspicious if I turned her down now...