More Than Just Bottles

After the fateful day of bonding over their common love for the game, Satoru’s summer suddenly became ten times more enjoyable. The once-intimidating glares from Silke turned into lively conversations. Even if he still had no clue what she was mostly talking about, he was simply happy that she finally felt comfortable in his presence.

There were even a few days when she left the apartment at the same time he did, though they usually split up pretty quickly—her heading in a direction entirely unknown to him. That was fine, though. If Silke were constantly by his side, he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the city views at all; he couldn’t trust his eyes not to drift toward her every time she was nearby.

Today, however, was a bit of a cleanup day—nothing too extreme, just some simple vacuuming, doing laundry, and taking out the trash.

Apparently, recycling in Germany was just as strict as in Japan, so Satoru quickly got the hang of it—at least until the blonde girl stopped him from throwing away the plastic bottles.

“Du wirst staunen, Toru, wenn ich dir zeige, was mit den Plastikflaschen in unserem Land passiert!”

He still couldn’t stop himself from blushing every time she called him “Toru.” The first time it happened—when they were hanging out playing Rainbow Sun—he had nearly spat out his tea. Only after calming down did he realize that’s how his sister always called him, so it wasn’t anything to get excited about.

“I’m Satoru,” he had tried to explain back then. He knew that in Europe, most people called each other by their first names, unlike in Japan, so he was prepared for that. But he hadn’t expected a cute girl to use a nickname for him.

Silke had considered his words for a moment before simply responding, “Toru ist besser!”—completely indifferent to how a Japanese boy might feel about it.

He was happy, but his heart could barely stay still every time she said it.

That had been days ago. Right now, however, he was about to find out exactly what mistake he had made by trying to throw the bottles into the plastic trash bag. The walk wasn’t long; they only had to go to the back of the apartment building, where trash bins dedicated to the nearby residences were located.

One of them was surely one of a kind—the one Silke headed toward after they had disposed of all the other rubbish they had carried out. She looked as if she were about to put on the best show he had ever seen. Her stance—confident, eyes gleaming, and a smug smile—showed off her dedication to whatever stunt she was about to pull.

“Schau genau hin!” With that mysterious exclamation, she took out one of the bottles and placed it into something that looked more like a dispenser than a trash bin.

And then… nothing happened.

“Huh, okay?”

Silke was clearly not happy with his lack of reaction, so she pouted all the way behind him before pushing his back, signaling for him to do the same thing she had just done. Not wanting to displease her further, he complied.

Even when she looks so cute pouting.

It took a few minutes to get rid of all the bottles one by one, still without an explanation as to why it was so important—especially when it would have been so much easier to throw them all in a bag at once.

When he was finished, Silke stepped forward once again, clicking something on the machine’s monitor until a piece of paper printed out.

“Auf geht’s!”

The confident determination in her tone made Satoru understand why so many people thought German was a stiff, hard-sounding language.

They ended up going inside one of the supermarkets, where Silke casually handed the ticket she had received to the cashier, who, to Satoru’s surprise, gave her some money in return.

Since when does a cashier give money when it’s not change?

Without warning, the blonde girl grabbed his hand and pulled him toward a brand-new destination. Not that Satoru cared where they were going—as long as she was holding his hand, he could walk all the way to China with her.

He really was down bad for this girl.

In the end, she took him to a simple bakery, where she ordered some pretzels and paid using the money she had received from the cashier. The whole exchange—from disposing of the bottles to now—felt like such a linear quest in a game that it was hard for Satoru to accept that it had all actually happened in real life.

When they returned to the apartment, Miho was sipping tea while relaxing on the couch, watching a movie. That was when the whole situation was finally explained to him.

“Yeah, that’s Pfandsystem for ya,” his older sister began. “You buy bottles with a specific symbol, and once they’re empty, you get some cents back—depends on the type of bottle.” She grinned at her brother’s confused look. “And thanks to this, now we can munch on pretzels with that return money. It’s really that simple. Don’t overwork your brain thinking about it too much.”

“I am not!”

While Satoru was arguing with his sister, Silke, on the other hand, looked much more pleased now that his reaction was finally more surprised.

“Torus verwirrtes Gesicht ist so niedlich.”

“Huh? What about me?” The black-haired boy turned around at the mention of his name.

Miho, on the other hand, looked extremely mischievous. “Oya, oya?”

The German girl must have realized she had spoken out loud—or maybe that wasn’t even the problem. Perhaps she had simply forgotten that, unlike Satoru, the older girl who also lived there actually understood her words. Covering her mouth with both hands to keep from saying anything more, she ran off, her face reddening, and locked herself in the bathroom.

Still confused, the Japanese teen turned back to Miho. “Did she say something bad about me?”

“Not telling,” the black-haired woman answered casually, turning her attention back to the TV—though it was obvious she wasn’t paying any attention to what was on. “Girl’s code,” she added.

“Wha—? What about… I don’t know… Siblings code?”

“Siblings code tells me to… tease you more! Come here!” Miho jumped up and started chasing her brother around.

“No way! Get the hell away from me!”

When Satoru had planned his trip, he had expected to learn about culture and differences on his own, with only minimal help and tips from his sister. He couldn’t have gotten any luckier—fate had wanted Silke to arrive at their apartment doorstep. One blessing was getting to live with her; another was that she genuinely wanted to teach him about her daily life.

He just wished he knew German a little better…