“Miko-san, is something wrong?”
Tsukasa Higashino looked at Aioi Miko, who was still standing there in a complete daze, and found her reaction rather strange.
What was going on?
He had clearly used a skill granted by the system, but how had the resulting drawing managed to leave someone completely stunned?
He had only been transported to this world a month ago and had barely gotten used to life in Japan in 2003.
The last thing he needed was for his strange ability to actually do something to Miko’s mind.
That would be a serious problem.
Tsukasa lifted his chin slightly as he considered the situation.
Just like the protagonists in countless stories before him, Tsukasa Higashino was a transmigrator.
In his previous life, he had been an art student.
After graduating from university, he had made his professional debut as a traditional painter.
He spent the next several years painting on and off, holding a number of small exhibitions in different cities and provinces across the country.
He had never become truly famous, but he was at least a locally recognized artist, and earning enough to support himself had never been a problem.
Then, one month ago, through some inexplicable twist of fate, he had suddenly found himself transported to Japan in this world, taking over the identity of Tsukasa Higashino, a first-year Japanese high school student.
Of course, none of that was the most important part.
The truly important thing was this…
Tsukasa focused his mind, and a pale-blue interface slowly appeared before his eyes.
Name: Tsukasa Higashino
Physical Fitness: 15 (5× that of an ordinary adult.
1,000 Fame Points required for the next level.)
Physical Condition: Healthy
Talent: The artistic talent from your previous life allows you to quickly master any form of painting and painting-related technique.
Painting Level: Masterful → Pinnacle (100,000 Fame Points required)
Painting Skill: Emotional Resonance — Viewers can feel the joys, sorrows, anger, and happiness of the subjects in your paintings through brushstrokes infused with genuine emotion.
Next Painting Skill: Sensory Realism — Viewers will be able to smell and taste the scents and flavors of the world depicted in your artwork.
Required Fame Points: 10,000.
Other Skill: Karate (1,000 Fame Points required to unlock the next skill slot.)
Remaining Fame Points: 100
Note: Fame Points can be used to improve your overall physical attributes.
The higher your physical fitness becomes, the more Fame Points further improvements will require.
Note: You can earn Fame Points when more people learn your name or become captivated by your work.
Perhaps he had been blessed by the countless transmigrators who had come before him, because Tsukasa had arrived in this world with a system of his own.
At the very least, he hadn’t been forced to start from absolutely nothing.
As for the Karate skill?
That was merely something he had learned for fun in his previous life.
Nothing worth bragging about.
Tsukasa had never particularly enjoyed settling matters with his fists.
He had always considered himself a civilized man.
In his previous life, the worst he had ever done was put a second-rate thug in the hospital for more than half a year after the man sexually harassed one of his female apprentices.
Really, Tsukasa much preferred reasoning with people.
Compared with such trivial matters, however, Miko’s current reaction worried him far more.
This was only the second time he had used the system’s troublesome Emotional Resonance skill.
If every painting he made left someone mentally incapacitated, that would be a disaster.
“Ah, no!
I’m fine.” Miko hurriedly waved her hands.
“It’s just that the picture Higashino-kun drew is so beautiful that I got a little emotional.”
Even as she reassured him, her large eyes kept drifting back toward the full-body sketch.
She clearly adored it.
“Emotional?” Tsukasa wondered inwardly.
Could a drawing actually move someone that much?
“Me too…” One of the female university students nearby spoke in a slightly hoarse voice.
“It reminded me of the dog my late mother’s older sister used to raise.”
That train of association was so absurd that Tsukasa didn’t even know where to begin.
Was she missing her mother, her aunt, or the dog?
Besides, he had drawn Aioi Miko—a high school girl.
How in the world had this woman managed to see a dog in the portrait?
“Um, thank you, Higashino-kun.
I really love this drawing.
Could you stamp it for me?” Miko asked.
“Sure.”
Tsukasa casually took out his seal.
He had just charged the girl 2,500 yen for a sketch, so the least he could do was satisfy such a simple request.
In Japan, personal seals were used practically everywhere, to the point that people sometimes regarded a seal as more important than a handwritten signature.
The one Tsukasa carried was a casual seal rather than his registered official seal.
He could use it freely, and it carried none of the legal significance of a formal seal.
Still, the stamp itself was hardly what concerned him.
He was far more worried about Miko’s mental state.
He really hoped the system’s skill hadn’t done anything strange to her.
Fortunately, Miko didn’t zone out again.
She carefully rolled up the sketch as though it were something precious, nodded gratefully to Tsukasa, handed him 2,500 yen, and then left with the two or three girls in her little group.
She had clearly forgotten that her original reason for approaching him was to ask for his phone number.
Instead, after only a few words from Tsukasa, she had somehow ended up buying one of his drawings.
Watching her disappear into the crowd, Tsukasa finally relaxed.
Good.
Nothing seemed to be wrong.
“Sorry, everyone, but I have something else to take care of, so I’ll be leaving now.”
Tsukasa withdrew his gaze and quickly packed up his easel.
At the same time, he turned to say goodbye to the university students who were still busy reminiscing about mothers, aunts, and dogs.
“Wait, Higashino-kun!” One fairly attractive university student hurriedly called after him.
“You have to draw me next time!”
“Definitely next time.”
She was pretty enough, so Tsukasa smiled and waved back.
Then, carrying his easel and drawing board under one arm and a dozen or so rolled paintings under the other, he left Shibuya Station.
Tsukasa’s home was in Adachi Ward: a three-room apartment with a living-dining area and a combined bath and toilet setup.
It was a fairly standard layout by Tokyo standards.
In a city where every square meter of land seemed worth a fortune, having a place like this to live in was already quite fortunate.
Before Tsukasa had even properly stepped through the door, he heard a soft, anxious voice calling from inside.
“Tsukasa?
Tsukasa, where are you?”
The delicate voice carried unmistakable panic.
The moment he heard it, Tsukasa hurried inside and looked toward the living room.
A frail-looking young woman was anxiously pacing around the room.
She lifted the lid of the trash can.
“Tsukasa, are you in here?”
Then she lowered herself to the floor and peered beneath the sofa.
“Tsukasa?
Are you there?”
Next, she opened the television cabinet and nervously looked inside.
“Tsukasa, are you hiding in here?”
The young woman was clearly panicking.
Tears were already gathering in her eyes, and she was searching so desperately that she even lifted the toilet lid and peered inside while calling Tsukasa’s name.
Tsukasa figured that if he stayed silent any longer, she might actually call the police.
“Chihaya-nee, I just got back.”
The instant she heard his voice, the young woman slowly turned around.
She froze where she stood and stared at him for a long moment.
Then the tears suddenly spilled down her cheeks.
The heartbreaking part was that she didn’t even dare cry aloud.
She simply stared at Tsukasa with large, watery eyes, looking deeply wronged and miserable.
After a while, she walked over, rose onto her toes, and carefully straightened his collar.
Then she tilted her head up at him with an almost childlike expression.
“Tsukasa, why did you run off somewhere?
Don’t wander around outside.
It’s dangerous…
There are lots of bad women out there.”
“I had something to take care of.
Have you eaten yet, Chihaya-nee?”
Tsukasa reached out and gently patted her head.
“Tsukasa hasn’t eaten yet, so your big sister won’t eat either.”
Chihaya gave him a silly, cheerful little laugh.
“Then let’s eat.”
Tsukasa showed her the boxed meals he had brought home.
Dinner was cheap: convenience-store set-meal bentos that cost 500 yen each.
Each contained a chicken patty covered in sauce, with no vegetables at all.
Simple and plain.
As he ate, Tsukasa looked gently at the young woman sitting across from him.
She was the original Tsukasa Higashino’s older sister, Chihaya Higashino.
Their parents had encountered a murderer one night and tragically lost their lives, leaving Tsukasa and Chihaya with no one but each other.
With the pillars of the family gone overnight, Chihaya, who had never been particularly strong emotionally to begin with, was unable to withstand such a devastating blow.
Before long, she developed a serious psychiatric disorder.
Looking at Chihaya sitting before him, Tsukasa drew a deep breath.
Truthfully, he had never considered himself a selfless person.
He had even thought about placing Chihaya in a psychiatric hospital.
But…
“Tsukasa, this is really tasty.
You eat it.”
Chihaya picked up her chicken patty with her chopsticks and placed it in Tsukasa’s bento.
But once she gave him the patty, there was practically nothing left in her own box.
She simply ate the white rice stained with a little sauce, taking large mouthfuls without complaint.
Every now and then, she hugged her bowl and chopsticks close and gave Tsukasa a goofy, innocent grin.
That was the problem.
Chihaya cared for him with all her heart.
Tsukasa wasn’t made of stone, so how could he bring himself to send her away to a psychiatric hospital?
Life could be difficult, but some things were a matter of principle.
And certain lines simply could not be crossed.
Tsukasa stopped eating.
He picked up both his own chicken patty and the one Chihaya had just given him, then placed them back into her bento.
Smiling, he said, “Actually, I don’t really like chicken patties.
Why don’t you help me finish them, Chihaya-nee?”
“Really?”
Chihaya scratched her hair.
She had always believed practically everything Tsukasa told her.
But…
She had eaten chicken patties before.
They were delicious.
So why didn’t her little brother like them?
Could it be that he only liked plain white rice?
She stared blankly for a while, visibly confused, before finally asking, “Then what do you like to eat, Tsukasa?”
“Me?
I suppose I’m rather fond of sea bass from the Mariana Trench.”
Tsukasa made up the answer on the spot.
As for whether sea bass actually lived in the Mariana Trench, he had absolutely no idea.
“Oh!
Oh!”
Chihaya nodded earnestly, her little head already trying to figure out where the Mariana Trench was.
But that wasn’t what Tsukasa wanted to discuss.
“Chihaya-nee.”
Tsukasa put down his chopsticks.
“You really want me to stay home with you, don’t you?”
“Of course.
It’s so dangerous outside.”
Chihaya blinked her large, fragile-looking eyes pitifully.
A shadow passed across her pretty face.
Their parents had died while they were away from home.
Naturally, that tragedy had left a deep scar on her mind.
“Then how about I take a leave from school and stay home with you?” Tsukasa coaxed gently.
“NO!!!”
BANG!
Chihaya slammed both slender hands onto the table.
And she truly slammed them down—hard enough that her palms immediately turned red.
She stared straight at Tsukasa.
Stubborn.
Serious.
Here we go again.
Every time Tsukasa brought up taking a leave from school, Chihaya became unusually agitated.
Her answer was always absolute and uncompromising: no matter what happened, Tsukasa had to keep going to school.
But in all honesty, Tsukasa wasn’t comfortable leaving Chihaya home alone in her current condition.
Looks like I’ll have to keep working on the principal…
Tsukasa considered the problem silently.
Just then, Chihaya hurried closer.
Tears shimmered in her large eyes as she pleaded with him.
“Tsukasa will go to school, right?
Tsukasa always listens to his big sister, doesn’t he?”
Because of her psychiatric condition, Chihaya didn’t fully understand what “going to school” really meant.
But the moment she heard Tsukasa mention “taking a leave from school,” she would become exceptionally anxious.
“All right.
I understand.”
Tsukasa abandoned the idea of taking leave and gave Chihaya the answer she wanted.
“Mm!”
Only after hearing those words did Chihaya’s tightly knitted brows finally relax.
Even so, her large eyes continued sweeping anxiously over Tsukasa, worry still written all over her face.
She was afraid he was only saying it to placate her.