Tsukasa Higashino had no idea what had become of the sketch he had left behind.
To him, it had only been a quick drawing—something he had thrown together to count as participating in the art club’s activities.
As for whether he had feelings for Ryoka Konoe?
That was a joke.
Ryoka had simply happened to be sitting beside him, so he had casually used her as his subject.
Rather than worrying about that, Tsukasa was far more interested in deciding what to eat for dinner.
“We had chicken patties yesterday.
Let’s go with pork and natto today.”
Tsukasa took two boxed meals from the convenience store’s refrigerated section and headed toward the counter.
He smiled at the man behind the register, who was still wearing his store uniform.
“Manager Ino, you still haven’t gotten off work?”
“Ah, Higashino-san!
Haha, as you can see, the person taking over my shift still hasn’t arrived, so I’m stuck here for a while longer.”
Manager Ino cheerfully took the bentos from Tsukasa.
The two were already quite familiar with each other.
More accurately, Tsukasa was on good terms with nearly every shopkeeper in this part of the neighborhood—the convenience-store manager, the elderly woman who ran the fruit stand, the woman selling fried croquettes, and even the owner of the fish shop.
Most of them had a favorable impression of the handsome, polite, and easygoing young man.
Of course, Tsukasa had invested a fair amount of time and effort into building those relationships.
He often visited with small gifts, bought things from their stores, lingered inside to enjoy the air-conditioning, and occasionally sat around chatting with the older shopkeepers.
Naturally, the people along the shopping street had gradually grown fond of him.
Seeing Tsukasa now, Ino spoke with a little more warmth than usual.
“There have been quite a few people showing up around here lately.
Make sure that girl of yours doesn’t wander too far.
It could be dangerous.”
By “that girl of yours,” he meant Chihaya Higashino.
In fact, Chihaya was precisely why Tsukasa had gone out of his way to become acquainted with so many people in the neighborhood.
He hoped that whenever he wasn’t around, they would keep an eye on her for him.
“Oh?
Is that so?
Now I’m curious.”
Tsukasa smiled, took a piece of oden from the simmering pot beside the counter, paid for it, and handed it to Ino.
“You haven’t eaten yet, have you, Manager Ino?
Have something to hold you over.
You can tell me what’s been happening while you eat.”
“Haha, it’s nothing too unusual.
Mostly people who lost their jobs a few years ago.
A lot of them still haven’t found work, so they’ve given up on themselves.
They get drunk and end up sleeping wherever they collapse.”
Ino accepted the food without ceremony and took a bite before answering.
“I see.”
Tsukasa nodded thoughtfully.
“Thanks.
I’ll keep it in mind, Manager Ino.”
“No need to thank me, Higashino-san.”
Tsukasa exchanged a few more pleasantries with him before turning to leave.
But he had barely taken two steps when an elderly woman from the neighboring fruit stand called out to him.
Her name was Chiyo, though everyone simply called her Granny Chiyo.
She had probably been quite beautiful in her youth, and her spirited, sharp-tongued personality had earned her the old nickname “the Former Flower of Shitamachi.”
“Higashino-san!
I saw your girl earlier!”
She spoke so hurriedly that her wrinkled face had turned bright red.
Seeing her struggling to catch her breath, Tsukasa immediately went to the nearby croquette stall, asked the woman there for a cup of water, and handed it to Chiyo while gently patting her hunched back.
“Don’t rush, Auntie Chiyo.
Take your time.”
No matter the age, calling a woman younger than she really was never hurt.
Sure enough, Chiyo’s old eyes immediately narrowed with delight.
“All right, all right.
I’ll slow down.”
It took her a while to catch her breath.
Then, clutching the cup with slightly trembling hands, she said,
“I saw your girl heading farther down the street earlier.
She was walking in quite a hurry.
I don’t know what she was doing.”
“Really?” Tsukasa nodded.
Chihaya was afraid of going outside, but that didn’t mean she never left the house.
Tsukasa gave her five hundred yen in pocket money every day, and she also had a little pig-shaped coin bank of her own.
Sometimes she would venture out and use the money she had saved to buy snacks she wanted.
She treasured that piggy bank dearly.
The money inside was practically her lifeline—so precious that even Tsukasa wasn’t allowed to touch it.
At most, Chihaya usually wandered around this shopping street.
Since nearly everyone here knew her, Tsukasa normally wasn’t too worried.
But why had she gone out at this hour?
The thought bothered him.
Tsukasa didn’t waste any more time.
After a brief goodbye, he headed down the street, asking people along the way whether they had seen Chihaya.
After roughly ten minutes of walking and asking around, he finally spotted her at the fish stall.
She was talking to the owner, an older man wearing a white headscarf and an apron marked with the character for “fish.”
The shopkeeper looked deeply troubled, repeatedly waving his hands and shaking his head.
Tsukasa found the sight strange.
What was Chihaya doing at a fish stall?
“Manager Hirasaka, what’s going on?”
Tsukasa walked over and greeted the fishmonger.
Naturally, he knew this shopkeeper too.
“Ah, Higashino-san!
You’re finally here!”
The instant Hirasaka saw him, his eyes practically lit up as though salvation itself had arrived.
He pulled Tsukasa closer and immediately explained,
“Your sister keeps insisting that she wants to buy sea bass from the Mariana Trench.
She says you told her about it, but I don’t have anything like that!”
Even as he said it, Hirasaka looked baffled.
He honestly wasn’t sure whether “Mariana Trench sea bass” even existed.
Before he could finish, Chihaya suddenly leaned her head in from the side.
“It does exist.
Tsukasa said he likes eating it, so it definitely exists.”
She sounded completely serious, even emphasizing the words with unusual firmness.
“Are you worried I don’t have enough money?
But I do.
I have lots and lots of money.”
As she spoke, she clumsily lowered her head and began digging through her pockets.
Out came several banknotes—and a whole pile of shiny five-hundred-yen coins.
Chihaya tried to hold all the coins in one hand.
When they wouldn’t fit, she cupped them with both hands instead.
The coins clinked and rattled together.
Only then did Tsukasa understand.
Chihaya had come all the way to the fish shop because of him.
All because of an offhand remark he had once made about “sea bass from the Mariana Trench.”
There’s no damn sea bass from the Mariana Trench!
He desperately wanted to tell her that.
But when he looked at Chihaya’s slightly upturned face and saw how incredibly serious she was, Tsukasa could only let out a long, heavy sigh.
A truly heavy sigh.
Then he turned toward Hirasaka, pulled a thousand-yen note from his wallet, and said,
“Huh?”
Hirasaka stared at him in disbelief.
He clearly hadn’t expected Tsukasa himself to start asking for this mysterious Mariana Trench sea bass too.
Did that fish actually exist?
At this point, even he was beginning to question reality.
“Ordinary kinmedai will be fine,” Tsukasa whispered, lowering his voice so Chihaya couldn’t hear him.
“Ah—right, right.”
Hirasaka had no idea what Tsukasa was trying to pull, but at least that part he understood.
He quickly prepared two slices of kinmedai, wrapped them up, and handed them over.
“Thanks, Manager Hirasaka.
I’ll come by again sometime to return the favor.”
“Haha, don’t worry about it.
It’s nothing.”
Hirasaka waved dismissively.
With the fish purchased, Tsukasa naturally took Chihaya home with him.
She remained troubled by one thing the entire way.
If the shop really had Mariana Trench sea bass, why had the owner been willing to sell it to Tsukasa but not to her?
Still…
Chihaya turned her head and looked at Tsukasa.
After staring at him for a while, she broke into a silly, delighted smile.
They had managed to buy it in the end.
That was enough.
The two continued down the street.
When they reached a small wooden stationery shop, Tsukasa stopped and turned toward her.
“Where’s your piggy bank, Chihaya-nee?”
“I smashed it.
Piggy was really cute…
but I didn’t have a choice.”
Chihaya lowered her head, sounding genuinely heartbroken.
The only way she could get the money out was by breaking her beloved pig-shaped bank.
For her, it had probably felt like stabbing herself straight through the heart.
But she had decided it was worth it.
Because she had found the food Tsukasa liked.
“It’s okay.”
Tsukasa reached out, gently patted Chihaya’s head, and smoothed her hair.
Then he said seriously,
“We’ll buy another one.”
“Mm!”
Her sadness instantly vanished.
“But you have to promise you won’t smash the next one.”
Tsukasa took Chihaya’s hand.
“This time, we’ll fill it with lots of money—more than the one you broke today.
And when the first piggy bank is full, we’ll fill a second one.”
“Then…
won’t I have lots of little piggies?”
Chihaya’s eyes sparkled.
She looked as though she could already picture the day when pig-shaped coin banks surrounded her on every side.
Tsukasa merely chuckled.
Then he reached out and stroked her head once more.
When he finally spoke, his voice carried an emotion too complicated to describe.
“How can you be this silly?”
His voice was soft, almost drifting away on the air.
It was impossible to tell whether those words were meant for Chihaya…
Or for himself.