Hajime's thought about Katse's question, long and hard.
What's the sweetest, tastiest thing that every human being loves?
Well, that's not easy to answer; there are lots of things she thinks are sweet and tasty, like strawberry cheesecake or caramel pudding. Maybe that's not the kind of sweet and tasty that Katse wants, though. She doesn't think Katse would want the same thing as people would.
There's so much about the world that she loves and hasn't experienced yet, anyway; so many people she hasn't met, so many children she hasn't played hide-and-seek or tag with. So many dogs she hasn't petted, so many cats she hasn't picked up to bury her face in their fur. She hasn't even played with Altair yet; she'll have to ask O.D. if she can make something - maybe a hat, a scarf, a glittery lime green collar - for the cat.
Not everybody thinks like she does, of course, which is all right. She loves the world; the brightness of a rainbow after a rainy day, the clean-crisp ozone tang after a midnight storm; she loves jumping in puddles and pushing her hands into the snow, wiggling her fingers to make sure they're still there. There are other things she likes, too - the summer sun against her bare shoulders, the sea-salt breeze in her hair, the cold, wet nose of a dog snuffling at her ear; the matte smoothness of decorative tape under her fingers, the faceted contours of stick-on rhinestones, the warmth of a just-unplugged glue-gun cooling by her knee.
But, well, she'll have to find out what other people think, too. What the sweet, tasty things they love are.
.
She takes senpai out paintballing, and makes sure to shoot him somewhere where it won't hurt, but where the paint-splatter will show. She shoots him squarely on the thickest part of his chestplate and laughs when his eyes widen with shock and he begins to sputter indignantly when he discovers purple and red dappling his hair.
"Newbie!" he shouts, all progress on calling her by name temporarily forgotten. She keeps laughing, when he suddenly stops complaining and runs after her, firing erratic shots over her shoulder as she ducks and takes a running leap, vaulting over a barricaded.
She still lets him clip her on the shoulder and when they're back home they compare bruises, and laugh some more. "Mine's purple," he says with a hint of disbelief as he wipes off the orange paint crusted on his skin. "And mine's blue!" Hajime replies, and snaps a photo.
.
She goes shopping with Rui, and they spend the entire afternoon trying on outfit after outfit; it's like a game all over again, evading the media.
Not every day is a press conference, not every day is gauging public opinion. "It's going to be," she declares, "a day of treats. When was the last time you treated yourself?"
Rui just laughs and shrugs and says, "I don't remember."
They do each other's make-up; they swap hairclips, eyeshadow, blush and lean back to observe the results. Hajime wears one of Rui's wigs, and they walk through the city like they own the place. It's nice, she thinks, when Rui doesn't look so glum.
.
When she decorates her NOTE, it's to swaps ideas with O.D. while Paimon gurgles incoherently at her.
They compare their NOTEs, the collages and photo-journals, the scrapbooking projects and shopping lists. She writes, "you should try drinking more prune juice instead, Pai-Pai, it'll help your liver too!" in her NOTE and giggles behind her hand while O.D. titters quietly as Paimon begins another outraged spiel throwing around phrases like no respect for elders! and no sense of decorum!.
O.D. skips over some pages while they're showing their NOTEs to each other but she understands, and pretends not to notice. She hopes O.D. won't do anything, well, dangerous; she's knows the way O.D. looks at Utsutsu, the way O.D's smile falters when nobody's looking. Or, at least, when O.D. thinks nobody's looking.
Hajime won't ask, though, not until O.D's ready to tell them.
.
She still leaves cards in Joe's room - small ones, big ones, fancy ones with accordion folds and pop-up sections, simple ones with ribbons and colourful tape. She doesn't write anything in them, but she's sure he'll understand.
Hajime hopes he'll recover soon, and get back to his usual self again. She hasn't seen him for days; he always leaves early - or maybe he doesn't even come back at night.
Today she leaves him a card with a paper collage dartboard. He's got good aim; he's always had good aim, from what everybody tells her. He'll find his way back, she's sure of that.
.
Katse's riddle's always in her mind when she hugs Utsutsu, every chance she gets. She does it because sometimes Utsutsu needs reminding that even if this one's a clone, or that one, Hajime loves all of her as much as the one that's not the copy.
Utsutsu likes giving her flowers; daisies and wildflowers, standing them in a vase in Hajime's room. Hajime notices how they never wilt, how their colour's always bright and lively. Utsutsu smiles a lot more now, and Hajime likes to think that maybe she's given something back to her.
"Thank you, Utsutsu!" she says and Utsutsu smiles and turns bashfully away. "They're as cute as you are!" she says when she kisses Utsutsu on the cheek, and Utsutsu pats her hand and says, "I'm not gloomy."
.
One night after dinner Hajime says, "I think I know what Berg-Katse wants!" and everybody stops to listen. "I don't think you'd want it eaten, though!"