Hiruko Kohina liked the scent of coffee.
She would never drink the black thing herself, of course, bitter as it was. But when papa had his morning coffee, he was always in a good mood. Sometimes he would buy her bananas. Those were expensive, Kohina was told, because the spreading of the Gastrea virus made importing food nearly impossible. Kohina did not really understand the details.
But bananas were yummy. And soft – you could cut them even without a sharp tool in your hand. Kohina liked that a lot.
But now papa was saying he would not drink coffee anymore. Their last can was already empty, and papa said he did not need to drink coffee anyway, now that he had his new body. Kohina knew that now that papa had taken out his belly and replaced it with the cool click-click machine, he no longer had to eat or drink regularly. But whether he needed to or not, he had continued in his old habits all this time, and Kohina saw no reason for him to stop now. And what about her bananas?
"Go buy some, papa," she tried convincing him.
But ever since papa started wearing his new mask, shopkeepers never treated him seriously, and then there were those people with guns running after them and getting in the way of shopping. Papa decided it was not worth the trouble. But Kohina wanted the bananas, uh, the coffee.
"I will go buy it alone, then!" she proposed on impulse.
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"Should have thought things through first,"Kohina thought as she found herself standing in front of the convenience store door, about to face the challenge of her first ever shopping errand.
She had been standing in front of the door and glaring at it for some time now. It was the automatic type, and should open if she took as much as one step forward from where she was. Actually, she could easily cut her way through a flimsy obstacle like that even if it refused to work for whatever reason. Still, Kohina found herself oddly nervous and hesitant to take that next step.
"Model Mantis, Hiruko Kohina," she announced to one in particular. "In close quarters, I'm invincible!"
The sound of her own voice almost gave her enough strength to move. But then she saw a man passing behind her, reflected in the glass of the store door. The salaryman seemed busy with whatever was displayed on the screen of his cell phone, but still found the time to give Kohina a dubious look as he passed her by. What is that kid trying to pull?
There were people inside the convenience store, of course. Would they look at her just like the salaryman did?
Kohina shrunk right back into her shell. She never realized how tough things could be without papa's reassuring presence around. People were difficult. Talking was difficult. Kohina wanted to just slice all those difficult things to pieces. "But," her hands wavered but did not move behind her back, "I promised papa I wouldn't…"
And before she knew it, she was taking step after step in silent retreat.
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Kohina dragged her feet along the pavement. She was headed back home, but taking none of the shortcuts she normally would. Actually, by now she had already made a half-circle around her supposed target destination.
She kept her gaze low and did not register the faces of those she passed by along the way. There might be those surprised at seeing a girl like her not at school at this time of the day. If they connected the dots and realized her identity, there could be trouble. But Kohina did not have the strength left to make herself care. As far as she knew, the day could not get any worse.
Papa would sometimes scold her or call her a foolish daughter. But Kohina thought he never really meant it. He still relied on her when he needed people cut down. And even if she messed something up, he would be there to cover for her and cheer her up. So even when she could not do as she was told, it would not normally be reason enough for Kohina to despair.
But this time felt different. Kohina had no idea what she could say after failing on an errand she herself had proposed. What would papa think? What would he say? Kohina could not predict his specific words. Her mind blanked out, refusing to think things through to their conclusion. But at the same time, the unfinished image kept coming back at her like an angry bee, driving all other thoughts away.
Kohina bumped into somebody along the way, but merely turned sharply to the side and walked away without slowing down. She did not want to talk to anybody. She probably could not hold a conversation right now without disturbing the fragile balance that kept the water in the corners of her eyes from overflowing.
She ended up going through a back alley leading away from her destination. Kohina was confident she could see quite well in the dark, but even she had difficulty finding a path without tripping over the trash strewn all around. Only now did she realize how little sunlight there was. The skies were overcast with a dark grey to begin with, and what little light found its way through the clouds could not possibly illuminate the cramped alley. But the skies, like Kohina, seemed intent on not shedding a single tear. They rejected the comforts of release and relief.
A few seconds later and Kohina was out of the alley. What awaited her on the other side were empty streets and an unfamiliar scenery. But the promise of light had been enough to make her raise her head and look around.
And then it caught her eye.
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Cutting down prices since 1967!
It was a dirty signboard only half-visible from behind a dust-covered shop window. Nineteen sixty-seven was a long time ago, years before Kohina was born, in fact, but a quick look at the establishment told Kohina it might indeed have been years since either the interior or exterior of the shop had been properly cleaned. A shabby shop in an unsavory neighborhood – there was no reason for Kohina to give the place a second glance.
But there she was, standing still with her eyes glued to the signboard. "Cutting down prices" – it was just a phrase and had nothing to do with sharp weapons, swift slashes or the dance of life and death which let Kohina feel at ease. But inexplicably, Kohina felt the hand of fate in her stumbling upon this place and a mysterious connection with the dinky shop, no matter how absurd the feeling seemed. She even wanted to believe there was fate involved if it meant she could find the will to try once more and avoid disappointing her papa.
Betting everything on that magical moment, Kohina reached out her hand and pressed the door handle. To Kohina's surprise, the door actually opened, breaking the illusion that the place had been long abandoned. Carried by her initial momentum, Kohina took her first step inside, her thoughts still a jumble in her head. She jerked when a sudden noise rang out behind her, but that was merely the tinkling of a small bell hanging above the door to announce the entrance of a customer.
Still bewildered by the situation and the unfamiliar surroundings, Kohina kept twisting her head left and right in an attempt to take everything in all at once. Admittedly, there was not that much to see. The shop had to be several times smaller than the convenience store she had intended to enter earlier that day. Various goods were packed tightly on the shelves both to her left and right, but Kohina had trouble identifying many of them with the dim light of the interior and dust covering many of the items. To her relief, she did find various food products on one of the shelves, and those were the only objects in the room which did not appear several years old.
But when the discovery made her relax somewhat, another realization struck Kohina like lightning: there was a counter blocking direct access to any of the goods on the shelves. This could only mean that this was one of those old-fashioned shops where you had to ask the shop staff for whatever products you wanted, instead of just bringing them to the counter.
Kohina was immediately back to being nervous. The cogwheels of her brain kept mercilessly turning, bringing her to yet another dreadful realization – whoever ran the shop had to be there, watching her. Could she have missed a person's presence? Kohina's eyes swept across the room once more. And indeed, in plain sight right in front of her, there was an old man studying her from across the counter.
Half the reason she had failed to notice him must have been her nervousness and disorientation. The other half lied in the man's appearance. Silent and unmoving, he could as well be part of the décor or one of the dust-gathering items on sale. With his wrinkled face and sharp nose, he did bear a striking resemblance to the dwarf figures people supposedly placed in gardens. But the piercing eyes were certainly alive and drilling holes in Kohina.
"Shopping alone, lass?"
The man's low tone carried a hidden note of severity which kept Kohina silent and unable to formulate a proper response. His gaze kept her pinned down and prevented her from even looking away as she tried, and failed, to make her mouth work.
"Well, we're living in tough times, I suppose," the man grumbled, breaking the silence. And then something changed about his gaze, because Kohina suddenly felt that the terrible weight pinning her down was gone. "You kids have no choice but to be sharp."
Sharp.
As if in a replay of the events that occurred in front of the shop, one of Kohina's favorite keywords rang out within the small room. Coincidence or not, meaningless or not, giving such things no thought, Kohina again grabbed onto the magic of the fleeting moment.
"Coffee!"
Kohina put all her heart into that single word, with no intention of elaborating further on her order. She just returned the shopkeeper's gaze with her own, intent stare.
For a moment, the man before her remained silent, as if gauging her and deciding whether to comment or prod for details. But a moment later he rose from his seat in a slow and majestic motion, like the image of a bear rising to stand on its hind legs, and walked over to one of the shelves. He reached behind what was probably a bag of cereal and took out a can with black contents. He raised the can up for Kohina to see and sent her a questioning glance.
Kohina shook her head fiercely to the sides. What the man was holding was coffee, yes, but the type that dissolved when you put it into water. Kohina was not sure what the difference was, if any, but her papa only drank the type that left black stuff at the bottom.
Guessing her thoughts, the shopkeeper placed the can back on the shelf and took out another one, fishing it out from behind bags of sugar and salt. He showed the can to Kohina and got a fierce nod in return.
"Five hundred yen, lass."
The man returned to his seat behind the counter, settling himself down in an exact reverse of his rising motion. Kohina took out the paper bill papa had entrusted her with and slid it over the counter. The man accepted the bill, quickly inspected it for signs of forgery, and hid it below the counter. He handed Kohina a single golden coin in exchange, and then waited for her to pocket the money before handing over the coffee.
Kohina reached out for the can with both her hands, unable to conceal her excitement at the near-accomplishment of her task. She grabbed firmly onto the precious cargo and pulled it close to her chest.
It was at that instant that she felt a sudden change come over the man before her. He seemed to stiffen and jerk back ever so slightly. His eyes again took on a sharp edge.
"You one of those kids?" the man let out under his breath.
The question brought Kohina down to earth and made her realize that in her excitement, she had forgotten to keep the tell-tale red glow of a cursed child from entering her eyes. The man's reaction was unmistakable, and something Kohina had already seen far too many times.
This was bad, bad, bad.
Kohina's slightly skewed fight-or-flight instinct screamed at her to cut away at the man before things got out of hand. But to take out the blade concealed behind her back, she would have to drop the coffee jar in her hand. What to do? What to do!? If she could just run away- no wait, she could!
But before her frenzied mind could take a decision, the shopkeeper had time enough to reach down behind the counter. In this time and age, everybody who could get their hands on a gun made sure to keep it close at hand at all times. Kohina could probably take several bullets point blank and live, if it came to it, but it hurt a lot. She had to do her best to dodge.
When she switched from actively trying to think things through to relying entirely on her instincts, her movements immediately became smooth. She lowered her posture, the muscles of her legs tensed, and her eyes followed the man's hands with a predatory precision. There was not enough time to preempt the attack, but she would aim for the moment when the man went to pull the trigger. With the trajectory of the bullet decided, it would not be difficult for her to avoid it while closing down the distance.
What would be difficult was the counter-attack. She could not deliver a proper slash with her hands occupied. But with her mind in full-out combat mode, Kohina would not hesitate when the time came to strike. Even if it meant throwing the precious jar away.
The man's hand emerged from behind the counter… and gave Kohina pause.
The shopkeeper was not holding a gun as Kohina had expected, but tiny crimson spheres. Wrapped in plastic and twinkling happily even in the dim light of the shop's interior, the crimson balls did not appear the least bit threatening. She might easily have mistaken the objects for candy. Scratch that, they were candy!
"Take those with you," the man grumbled out, placing the candy on the counter within Kohina's reach. "Free of charge."
Kohina stood there dumbfounded, trying to make heads and tails out of the situation, but the adrenaline rush was still clouding her mind. She sought the shopkeeper's eyes, expecting some kind of explanation. But the man kept his gaze locked at a point away from her, down at the ground but somewhere far away. And, for the first time since the two met that day, it was him avoiding Kohina's eyes.
The moment stretched, jealous of its mysteries, until a single raindrop struck the window outside.