As evening began to settle in, Hatano continued typing away at the keyboard of her laptop in her dimly lit room, where the lettering on the keys had long since worn away and become impossible to read.
It had already been some time since she had let Shinomiya stay at her place. A week had already gone by, but she had hardly had any opportunities to see Shinomiya. While part of her found herself worrying about Shinomiya, if only a little, it was also true that she had no real reason to do anything about it.
So she simply continued working on her novel. Even if no one appreciated her work, she kept on writing so that perhaps someday, someone would have the chance to.
Hatano’s eyes remained fixed on the story before her. The protagonist was a second-rate striker, constantly wrestling with his own shortcomings as he watched those around him pull further and further ahead.
He had started playing soccer in elementary school alongside his childhood friend who lived in the neighborhood. They continued playing for the same clubs and teams together all the way from elementary school through high school.
The protagonist and his childhood friend shined on the field together, eventually earning the nickname “the Twin Wings.” But that nickname only stuck until around the middle of middle school. The further their team advanced, the more talented players they encountered, and his childhood friend was the only one who managed to overcome those obstacles.
The ordinary boy had worked just as hard as his childhood friend in the same environment, yet he eventually realized that the friend who had always been by his side had somehow ended up so far ahead that he could no longer even see him. Even after coming face-to-face with the difference in their talent and ability during high school, the protagonist secured a starting position thanks to his skills being slightly above average and continued to play up front alongside his childhood friend, just as they always had.
But then everyone around them began comparing the two.
No one acknowledged him. No one expected anything from him. Even as he began to buckle under the pressure, the protagonist refused to give up and continued to struggle. And in the end, his efforts would pay off, becoming the key to their victory—
“…”
Hatano’s hands came to a complete stop.
With the protagonist having just scored the game-winning goal, the world inside the story came to a complete standstill. Something was missing. The story definitely covered the important elements of a sports story, with its straightforward theme and message that hard work would be rewarded. But simply covering the basics would only leave it buried among countless other works.
The protagonist, tormented by feelings of inferiority, whose hard work went unrewarded and who no one expected anything from, refused to break and ultimately led his team to a comeback victory. Even that kind of success story felt somewhat stale. She wanted something, just one thing, that would give this work a piece of individuality she could be proud of.
If all she was going to write were the same pretty platitudes everyone else preached, a picture book would be far more suited to the general public.
Hatano mulled it over for a while before letting out a heavy sigh. Then she opened up a text file she used for notes and swiftly cut and pasted the most recent tens of thousands of characters she’d written into it.
After saving the main text file several times, Hatano finally took her hands completely off the keyboard and mouse. She rested a hand against her forehead and rocked back and forth in her swivel chair.
She wanted to write a little more, but she’d already been sitting at her desk for three hours. Her concentration was starting to fade, so it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to use this as a stopping point and find ways to refine the plot. She could spend some time daydreaming, watch a movie, or maybe go for a walk to clear her head.
And as Hatano considered her options, Shinomiya’s face suddenly crossed her mind.
Specifically, the sulky expression she’d seen on her face the night before.
On one hand, Hatano hated Shinomiya’s self-destructive way of life: flirting with anyone and everyone, sleeping with them, and selling herself cheap through sex. On the other hand, the glimpses she occasionally caught of Shinomiya’s true self made her seem like just a lonely girl looking for someone to fool around with, and Hatano couldn’t help but feel that she couldn’t just leave her alone.
She knew she was often too simple-minded and soft-hearted for her own good, but the fact that she still hadn’t reached out to Shinomiya made her aware that this kindness was only superficial, and that she was ultimately nothing more than a hypocrite.
Hatano hesitated for a moment before muttering, as if trying to convince herself of her own words:
“I’m just going out for a walk. That’s all.”
That was all. She was just going for a walk. It wasn’t as though she was hoping to find Shinomiya at some bar she happened to stop by, nor was she expecting to find her anywhere else.
Hatano liked the sight of neon lights.
The nightlife establishments that society often looked down upon were nevertheless run by people who took pride in what they did. Those who frequented them were like fireflies drawn to their passion―or perhaps they could be called moths instead. Feeling like a moth drawn to a bug zapper, Hatano wandered the streets in front of the station after night had fallen.
As she filled her lungs with the cool autumn night air, she caught a faint scent of alcohol.
Even though it was supposed to be a walk with no particular destination, she found herself peering through the windows of the izakayas she passed, searching for Shinomiya. Each time she confirmed that Shinomiya wasn’t there, she felt a faint sense of relief, along with a lingering loneliness. It wasn’t as though she had any feelings of friendship, romance, or affection toward her. If she had to compare it to something, it was more like the impulse to stop someone who was trying to climb over a rooftop railing with a troubled look on their face. It wasn’t as though she felt an overwhelming need to intervene from the bottom of her heart, but she felt compelled to reject the way of life that had led her to that point.
Hatano continued walking quietly, with no particular destination in mind. Then, just as she was about to pass by a convenience store, a familiar voice called out to her.
“Yo.”
She recognized that voice, distinctly smug as ever.
Hatano stopped in her tracks, raising her eyebrows in surprise as she looked toward the source of the voice.
“Oh, Shindou.”
“You out for a walk? That’s rare.”
Shindou was tall, handsome, and lean. In his hand was a plastic bag filled with alcohol and snacks, probably in preparation to drink later.
He was a member of the literature club at the same university as Hatano and was Shijima’s childhood friend. In stark contrast to the surprised Hatano, he raised his hand and waved at her with a friendly smile on his face.
“Were you looking for someone?”
The moment they stepped a little away from the hustle and bustle of the streets, it became much quieter. Together, they stood beside a trash can outside a convenience store, where the parking lot was illuminated by the glow of fluorescent lights.
An image of Shinomiya appeared in Hatano’s mind as she took a sip from her can of hot coffee and Shindou turned on his e-cigarette to get his nicotine fix.
As if to avoid the gaze of the Shinomiya in her head, Hatano turned away and muttered,
“No. I was just out for a walk. I feel like I hit a roadblock.”
“With your novel?”
“Yeah. Sadly, I’m still just an amateur. I can’t keep at it for hours on end.”
Hatano took a sip of her bitter coffee and stared at her own shadow stretching beneath the fluorescent lights. Beside her, Shindou savored the nicotine as he made the most of one of the few smoking areas still left.
“I see,” he murmured before continuing, “So, you know, after you quit the literature club…”
“Nothing’s changed, right?”
“Oh, did someone mention it to you already?”
“I’m just being realistic. Unless someone like you, or Shijima, or… even Shinomiya left, nothing would change. I was just an outcast in the club, after all.”
Shindou pulled a packet of kaki no tane1 from the plastic bag in his hand and tossed it over to Hatano.
“Hey, mind your manners,” Hatano said, scolding him.
“My bad,” he replied with a shrug.
After thanking him, Hatano opened the packet and popped a peanut into her mouth when Shindou spoke up again.
“… You know, Shijima’s seemed pretty lonely since then. It’s like what little was left of the ‘literature’ part of the ‘literature club’ has vanished. He’s lost the one person he could talk to about writing novels. I feel bad for him.”
“If you feel bad for him, why don’t you try writing a novel too? You two are childhood friends, aren’t you?”
“Nah, I have no interest in novels. The only thing I read is manga. That’s just how it is.”
Hatano couldn’t even bring herself to scold Shindou as he continued to smoke without a hint of remorse.
If he wasn’t willing to do anything to help Shijima, then he was probably only in the club to meet women. As the thought crossed Hatano’s mind, Shindou spoke up as though he had read her mind.
“I bet you’re itching to say, ‘What a horny bastard. He only joined the club to hook up with women, didn’t he?’ Am I right?”
“Correct. What a horny bastard. You only joined the club to hook up with women, didn’t you?”
“Yep, that’s me. The horny bastard who only joined the club to hook up with women.”
Hatano glanced at Shindou, who stood there proudly without making any attempt to hide his intentions or apologize, and let out a sigh. She wouldn’t go so far as to say he was doing anything wrong, but she did feel sorry for Shijima. As she was thinking that, Shindou suddenly said, “… You know,” as though a thought had just crossed his mind.
When Hatano turned to look at him, wondering what he was about to say, he flashed a grin before saying,
“You’re an outsider now, so let me tell you something amusing.”
“You really know how to set the bar high for yourself. Even a top-tier comedian wouldn’t so brazenly call their own routines funny with such confidence.”
“Hey, I didn’t say ‘funny.’ I said ‘amusing.’ And while I’m at it, I’ll tell you a little anecdote, too. I think you, in particular, might find it interesting.”
Hatano was impressed by how shamelessly he kept raising the bar for himself, but his confidence made her curious about what he had to say. If he was willing to talk it up this much, it had to be something that concerned her, at least to some extent.
“Oh really?” she murmured to show she was listening. “Are you going to tell me how you pick up women or something?”
“Nah, nothing like that. Just the reason why I joined the club.”
Hatano looked puzzled. Hadn’t he just said a moment ago that he’d joined the club to hook up with women?
As Hatano furrowed her brows in confusion, Shindou nodded proudly.
“As I said before, I did join the club to meet women. But that doesn’t mean I’m interested in every woman who’s biologically female or identifies as one. There’s someone specific I’ve got my eye on.”
When he’d said that he was in the club to meet women, he’d meant that there was someone specific he was after. Given his reputation as a womanizer, it wasn’t particularly surprising that he had someone he liked, but what did surprise Hatano was that there was someone he was that interested in. But if that was the case, then that narrowed down the list considerably.
“Wanna take a guess who it is?”
There was only one reasonable answer to Shindou’s question, which he posed with a smug smirk.
Hatano answered as though she were solving an elementary school math problem.
“Shinomiya.”
“That’s correct!”
‘What’s with this stupid little performance?’ Hatano thought, feeling both underwhelmed and exasperated. Just as she sighed and began considering heading home, Shindou noticed her lack of interest and continued.
“… Is what I’d like to say, but you’re a little off.”
Hatano frowned at his unnecessarily dramatic delivery, which reminded her of one of those old-school game show hosts.
“Okay, out with it already, Mr. Game Show Host.”
“Alright, alright, let’s take a step back. Say I asked you which artist I loved the most, and I told you, ‘Ringo2.’ Now, you’re probably thinking of the international sensation Ringo Starr. That’s technically the right name, but the wrong answer. The real right answer is the world-class singer-songwriter Sheena Ringo. Do you see what I’m getting at?”
Other than learning that he loved Sheena Ringo, Hatano had gotten almost nothing out of his explanation.
But she did have a vague idea of what he meant. Answering with “Shinomiya” had technically been correct, but it likely wasn’t the Shinomiya from the literature club that Hatano had imagined. It must have been someone else with some kind of connection to her.
Hatano found herself taking the question a little more seriously than she had intended, and began considering the remaining possibilities.
Then, she offered the one she thought was most likely.
“Shinomiya’s… sister?”
Hatano answered tentatively, and Shindou’s lips curved into a smile.
“Bingo.”
‘I see. So he’s starting with the people around her, trying to find a way to get closer to her,’ Hatano thought to herself.
As the pieces finally began to fall into place, there was one other thing that surprised Hatano: the fact that Shinomiya had a sibling. She couldn’t help but wonder what her sister was like, and whether she had any influence on the way Shinomiya lived her life now.
‘Shinomiya said she lived alone, too. Could all these things be connected?’
Hatano felt a little annoyed with herself for actually finding Shindou’s anecdote interesting. Seeing her irritation, Shindou flashed her a smug, self-satisfied grin before continuing.
“To be more precise, it’s Shinomiya’s older sister. We went to the same middle and high school. I fell for her back in middle school, so I made sure I got into the same high school as her. But before I could even get her to notice me, graduation came around. Of course, I tried to get into the same university as her too, but I couldn’t make it in.”
Shindou finished his explanation with a shrug.
That being said, the university Hatano and Shindou attended was of a fairly high academic standing and could even be considered prestigious by most people. If even someone like him couldn’t get into the university Shinomiya’s sister attended, Hatano could only imagine how incredible she must have been.
“She must be incredibly academically gifted, then.”
“That’s what you’d think, right?”
Hatano voiced her impression based on what little information she had about Shinomiya’s sister, but Shindou’s response sounded strangely uncertain. Wondering if that meant she was mistaken, Hatano shot him a questioning look, and he gave a bitter smile before muttering,
“Academics and stuff are one thing, but her true calling is as an artist.”
An artist. It wasn’t really the kind of person one typically encountered in everyday life. As far as Hatano’s own surroundings went, the closest example was probably Shijima, who devoted himself to the art of writing novels. Even then, whether novels written purely for entertainment could really be called art was debatable. Regardless, it was still a title that felt unfamiliar to her.
“Does she go to an art school?”
“No. She goes to a regular STEM-focused university with insanely high admission standards. But as an artist, she’s the real deal.”
Hatano wasn’t particularly familiar with the world of art, so she couldn’t quite grasp what he meant. Still, someone who attended a top university while also working as a top-tier artist hardly seemed like a regular person to her. Shinomiya’s older sister must have been someone extraordinary.
As she was thinking that, Shindou began fiddling with his phone. When Hatano glanced over to see what he was doing, he seemed to find what he was looking for.
“Oh, here it is,” he said, tossing the phone over to Hatano. She caught it with ease and looked at the screen.
“… Is this a news article?”
It was indeed a news article. The headline read, “Roukai Holds Solo Exhibition in New York,” and beneath it was a single photograph.
In it stood what appeared to be an important-looking foreigner dressed in an expensive suit, alongside a woman who looked almost exactly like Shinomiya. The two were posing in front of a watercolor painting. The moment Hatano saw the painting behind the woman’s gentle smile, she was nearly swallowed by a sense of depth and immersion that she never would have expected to experience through a camera lens.
The sight of the water rendered in vivid pastel colors, perfectly still and calm, seized her heart.
“Most people in the general public probably haven’t heard of her the way they’ve heard of Banksy, but she’s quite famous in the art world. I mean, she’s a Japanese watercolor artist who’s able to hold solo exhibitions overseas. Anyone with even a passing interest in art, let alone watercolor painting, would recognize both her pseudonym and her family name, ‘Shinomiya.’”
Hatano was awed by the painting in that single photograph, despite all the other things captured in it. Seeing firsthand the achievements and skill that Shindou had called “top-tier,” she finally understood what he meant and held the phone back out to him.
“… So that’s Shinomiya’s older sister.”
“Yeah… And the guy trying to marry his way into a comfy life of wealth and status through her? None other than yours truly.”
“I couldn’t care less about your agenda.”
Shindou merely shrugged at her blunt dismissal.
It was true that if he could forge a connection with her, he might just be set for life. After all, she was holding solo exhibitions overseas while still studying in university. Hatano wasn’t particularly familiar with the art world, but her raw talent was nothing short of monstrous.
When Hatano searched her name on her own phone, a long list of achievements, solo exhibitions, works, art books, and even a Wiki page came up. She also found a message board where people were discussing just how extraordinary she was. One post in particular caught her attention: people were saying that it wouldn’t be long before the Japanese media started taking notice of her as well.
“She really is something.”
“She sure is. But when it comes to the Shinomiya family, it’s not just her who’s exceptional—it’s the entire family.”
Hatano thought about his words for a moment before realizing what he was getting at.
She took another look at Shinomiya’s older sister’s Wiki page, where all the details were laid out.
“Her grandparents were renowned sculptors, her mother’s a musician, and her father’s a painter, too. There are also dancers, artisans, and calligraphers among her more distant relatives. They’re like a picture-perfect family of artists. That’s the kind of lineage the Shinomiyas come from.”
Every one of the names listed had a link to their own Wiki, and tapping on any of them brought up yet another impressive and illustrious list of achievements.
However, the one name Hatano knew from the family was nowhere to be found.
And it only made sense that she wasn’t. There was no way someone like the Shinomiya she knew—someone who treated the literature club like a place to hook up with others, flirted with men, and fed off the jealousy of other women—could possibly belong to the same world as this family of renowned artists.
“I bet you’re wondering where the Shinomiya you know fits into all this, aren’t you?”
Shindou said, as if he could see right through her. Hatano narrowed her eyes at him. Her expression made it clear she wasn’t in the mood for jokes and wanted him to get to the point, so he continued.
“I’m sure you know the answer already. She has no place in that world… Unlike you or Shijima, she’s just a complete outsider. And that’s exactly why I think I might be able to use her to get my foot in the door with the Shinomiya family.”
Hatano felt a little irritated by his words, as though he were treating Shinomiya as some kind of lucky break for him. But she realized that she had no real reason to be irritated, so she reined herself in. Once she had calmed down a bit, she felt as though she’d caught a glimpse of the reasons behind some of Shinomiya’s behavior.
“Isn’t it hard? Like, not having your worth acknowledged?”
Hatano remembered that question Shinomiya had asked her before. Then she thought about Shinomiya’s twisted need for validation, and now, with the added context of her family background, it wasn’t hard to connect the dots.
Hatano’s thoughts grew sluggish, as though someone had filled her head with lead, and her mood sank with them. Her period was still a while away, but for whatever reason, she just couldn’t seem to lift her spirits.
In an attempt to sharpen her dulled mind, she downed the rest of her coffee to fuel herself with caffeine.
“Actually… This is something I heard through the grapevine, but apparently she used to paint, too, just like her sister. Who knows where things went wrong, or how she ended up like this, though. I mean, it works out for me, but it’s still kind of sad.”
Part of Hatano was angered by his description of the Shinomiya she knew as someone who had fallen from grace. At the same time, it was clear that he wasn’t trying to make fun of her. Underneath it all, he seemed to feel at least a little genuine sadness about what had happened to her. Hatano stamped out the feelings inside her, snuffing out the embers before they could flare up, and let it all out with a heavy sigh.
“… But anyway. What do you think? Pretty interesting, huh?”
He asked, then blew a puff of smoke toward the sky.
Hatano fiddled with the empty can in her hand, as though trying to stuff the gloomy feelings inside her into it, then threw it into the trash.
“I’m not sure, but what I do know is that I didn’t find it very funny.”
- Kaki no tane (柿の種, which literally translates to persimmon seeds) is a type of rice cracker snack that often come with peanuts as well. They’re named “persimmon seeds” despite having no relation to the fruit simply because of their shape. ↩︎
- I had to take some creative liberties with Shindou’s dialogue here. In the original Japanese text, his hypothetical question doesn’t specifically mention artists/musicians. Instead, it’s a very general question of asking what he likes. He answers saying that he likes “ringo” (林檎), which is the Japanese word for apple. Then, he continues by saying that now maybe you’re picturing an apple (the fruit) in your head, which isn’t necessarily wrong, but he was actually referring to singer-songwriter, Sheena Ringo (last name first, given name second). As you can see, the wordplay doesn’t translate well into English, so I decided to go with something the international audience would understand while also conveying Shindou’s point. ↩︎
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