I have this feeling that this kid is doing it on purpose.
But, honestly, hearing him say that did make me genuinely happy. Not that I was expecting any praise when I gave him the gift…
“But I still haven’t figured out how to write yet,” the red-haired boy said.
I had anticipated this and replied casually, “Better to be prepared, right? Keep it by your side—then when you decide how to write, you can just start.”
I wasn’t about to admit that I was secretly giving this as a reminder, a way to see from his manuscript progress when his little “experience life” phase might end.
Oda Sakunosuke nodded, seemingly agreeing with me.
Maybe this brought us even closer. Afterward, when buying more items, I didn’t feel reluctant at all.
Although I never planned on living with a roommate at fifteen, now that it happened, it wasn’t so bad.
Oda Sakunosuke was actually an ideal roommate—quiet, cooperative, easygoing, willing to go along with your ideas, low-maintenance, and seemingly never upset.
Of course, that doesn’t mean he’s easy to bully; he simply doesn’t care about most things.
I hope that when we eventually part ways, and I truly retire, I can find a roommate like this. I used to think living alone was fine, but now having more friends seems nice—after all, you can share chores!
There was just one little snag…
“Hmm… it’s on sale, but it’s a couple’s set…” I stared at the pair of cat mugs in my hands for a while, then decisively added them to the cart. Forget it—he probably wouldn’t mind! At this stage, practicality comes first.
Making money is hard now, so saving is necessary.
And I’m definitely not touching my secret retirement fund! A friendly older female assassin I knew once warned me: never let a man spend your money carelessly. I remember that vividly! I keep track of all Oda Sakunosuke’s expenses and deduct them from his current wages!
Speaking of which… he’s been very obedient and hasn’t even asked about his salary.
I jotted down the week’s household expenses while stroking my chin in thought.
The door opened. The red-haired boy returned from helping with deliveries, holding a paper-wrapped object that looked like a painting frame.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“A painting. Someone asked me to hold onto it before. Since we’re living here now, it’s more convenient to bring it here,” he replied.
“Oh—remember to charge storage fees,” I said, lowering my head to continue recording.
“Mm.” Oda Sakunosuke carried the painting inside. “Is there a place at home to store it?”
“Eh? There really is a storage fee?” I raised an eyebrow, then pointed toward the closet. “There’s a hidden safe in there. I used it before to hide… cough… valuable items. Put it there.”
I wasn’t surprised that Oda Sakunosuke had a side job like this; after all, I’d helped with moving jobs too. People in our line are strong, discreet, and highly trustworthy. Some clients prefer us over ordinary mercenaries—but only if they trust us.
Of course, I had no idea that this painting belonged to the last person Oda Sakunosuke killed, was worth hundreds of millions, or that he was storing it because of a promise.
I also didn’t know that it had previously been in his own home, and now that he’d decided to live here, he quietly moved it over without a word.
Nor could I foresee what events this painting might trigger in the future.
For now, I was just fretting over the tiny numbers in the household ledger and thinking about heading to the local supermarket with Oda Sakunosuke to grab the discounted eggs—one box per person.
After snatching the eggs, I even bought a popsicle and split it with him. We walked home along the river, eating and chatting.
Summer had arrived; the weather was getting warm. But Yokohama wasn’t too hot, and the sea breeze was nice.
We were both wearing T-shirts printed with half-heart designs—a cheap couple’s set. The shirts were slightly large on our bodies, hanging loosely.
The light, breezy fit actually felt comfortable in the heat, which I was happy about.
Oda Sakunosuke didn’t seem to mind at all.
At first, buying couple’s items felt slightly embarrassing, but after a few purchases, I felt more at ease.
They were cheap, and the guy next to me never questioned or reacted, making me feel silly for even worrying.
“Tonight, let’s have omelette rice,” I declared, taking a bite of the popsicle. “When you took the painting earlier, you also got a novel—the one you’ve been talking about, right? What’s the story…? Ah, if you can’t say, that’s fine.”
“I’ll show it to you when we get home,” Oda Sakunosuke said, carrying the eggs. “I want to know, too—what you think about something that’s been bothering me.”
“Eh? Sure, it’s not too hard… Wait! I remember you said the last few pages are missing, right? No ending? I’m not looking! I won’t step into a cliff intentionally!”
My expression sharpened—whew, almost fell into a trap!
“I see…” The red-haired boy’s face didn’t change, but I detected a hint of regret in his tone.
I became cautious: “Don’t tell me the plot. Wait until you finish writing it, then I’ll read it.”
“Mm, okay,” he agreed. After a pause, he asked, “Can I ask you something?”
“Is it a spoiler?”
“Hmm… not really.”
“Then go ahead.”
“Why did you kill before, Kikuue?”
“Eh? For… jobs?” I hesitated. “To earn money. But I pick people I don’t like for the tasks.”
Since my ability amplifies my combat power against people I dislike, it’s a bonus. This rebellious streak also gave me a reputation for being a hot-blooded, unpredictable teen, so some employers were cautious about hiring me. Of course, I wouldn’t admit that myself.
Because of this, the tasks I got were difficult—not because no one wanted me, but because my reputation was significant. That’s why I ended up in the top 3.
The top 1 is the guy in front of me. I’ve never met top 2. I claim top 3 simply to avoid conflicts with the first two. Rankings don’t mean much anyway—I’ll take top 3 and let the others fight for first.
“A survival-type answer…” The red-haired boy paused thoughtfully, then suddenly stopped walking. “If someone said to you, ‘Humans live to save themselves,’ how would you understand that?”
I stopped and looked back at him.
He stood still, watching me across a small distance. The summer breeze tousled his bangs, softening his expression.
But his tone and posture showed he was serious—maybe even more serious than when we first fought.
Seeing him this earnest, I wanted to answer seriously, maybe even say something profound… But honestly, this question…
“Hmm… even if you ask me how I understand it, it’s hard to describe,” I said, scratching my face with a troubled smile. “Because I’ve always thought this way—and lived this way.”
Whether I was a killer or not, whether using my ability to risk my life or fighting over discounted eggs with a crowd of women…
“I feel like I’ve always lived seriously. And living is, in itself, a process of saving yourself,” I concluded, feeling satisfied with my own words, nodding slightly, then lifted my head and continued forward.
After a while, I noticed no movement behind me and turned to look.
The red-haired boy, like he’d been on pause, resumed following me, taking careful steps.
“I think I answered well just now. What do you think?”
“Mm, I think Kikuue is amazing.”
“Well… it’s okay,” I said, brushing my nose with a finger, feeling satisfied. He doesn’t lie, so even if I don’t know what he finds amazing, I accepted the compliment.
“Kikuue.”
“What now? You’ve got a lot of questions today, Little Oda.”
He lowered his head and tugged at his T-shirt. “Why does our T-shirt have this design?”
Pft—cough-cough-cough!