Japanese Snow Fairies

I rolled over with a groan, squinting at the sunlight streaming through my window. My phone showed 8:47 AM - way too early for a weekend. Little Shit's warm weight pressed against my side, his squeaky snores filling the room.

And there, in the corner, stood R. Just like every morning this past week.

You know those third-person video games where the camera follows your character around? That's basically R. Except I'm the playable character, and instead of a camera, I've got a seven-foot crystal giant trailing behind me everywhere I go.

Recently, I've been keeping a mental list of R's… quirks, if you could call them that.

1. It only follows me. Like, only me. But at least it respects personal space - no shower stalking or anything of that sort. It had decency, I guess. 

2. Little Shit's volcanic tantrums don't affect it at all. The magma just slides right off its body. Makes R the perfect babysitter when I need to do something without a kaiju clinging to my back. 

3. All it ever says is "Rrrrr." I swear sometimes it sounds like it's trying to form actual words, but maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part. 

4. The weirdest thing though? R knows its way around our apartment perfectly. No bumping into walls or knocking things over like it did at school. It's like it's lived here before.

I rolled out of bed, Little Shit tumbling after me. My stomach growled loud enough to wake the neighbors. Well, if we still had any.

"Rrrrr," R chimed from its corner.

"Yeah, yeah, morning to you both." I shuffled toward the door, not bothering to fix my bedhead.

The stairs creaked under our combined weight as we made our way down. I dragged myself to the kitchen, ready to settle for cold porridge, but the pot that usually sat on the stove was missing. My stomach protested loudly at this betrayal.

"Gran Gran? Are we not eating today or..."

The words died in my throat. Gran Gran was pacing back and forth, clutching our ancient cordless phone like it might try to escape. She then lowered the phone with a huff.

"What's wrong?"

"Your father still not answering his phone! First he run off to America without asking his poor old mother, now he don't even pick up when I call? What kind of son does this?"

My chest tightened. When was the last time I'd talked to Dad? The phone had appeared in front of my face at least ten times these past months, Gran Gran insisting I take it. But I'd waved it away every time. He didn't need to hear about the kaiju we'd run into and viral videos and R.

"He's probably just busy. I'm sure he'll call back later."

"Pah! He better." Gran Gran set the phone back in its cradle with a sharp click.

***

I pressed my forehead against the cold window, watching brown leaves spiral down into the window sill. December had crept up on us, painting the world in winter colors. Little Shit squirmed in my lap before I lifted him up to eye level.

"Hey, you ever miss your dad?"

Little Shit just reached for my face with his tiny claws, probably hoping I'd feed him more melon bread.

I sighed, set him down, and pulled out my phone, checking the Ypedia app I'd deleted and reinstalled about twenty times now. Dad hadn't called since September. No texts, no emails. Nothing. And every time I remembered how I'd dodged his calls back then, the guilt gnawed at me more.

Now I was the one dialing his number at 3 AM, until Gran Gran caught me and went on a thirty minute rant about international call rates.

I looked back to the final exam results sitting crumpled on my desk - straight A's, technically, but when I had tried to study for them, my mind would always wander to worst-case scenarios about Dad. Was he okay? Has something happened? Was he...

I slumped at my desk, watching R arrange my still-damp laundry across its body like some drying rack. It was weird how normal this had become - R acting as our personal clothing rack while the Furnace Kaiju played butler for Gran Gran. Like some sitcom where everyone got their own pet kaiju. Though I guess "pet" wasn't quite the right word for R. More like an extremely tall, extremely shiny roommate who never paid rent but made up for it by being really good at hanging laundry.

***

Eventually, Christmas Eve had snuck up on us, bringing with it the promise of winter break. Not that Christmas was a real holiday here in Japan. But two weeks off school? I'd take it.

With Sae being MIA (probably off with Haruka because young people needed romance too, I guess), I ended up tagging along with Kurumi and Koyuki instead.

The mall's fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as we entered a Japanese Snow Fairy pop-up shop, packed wall to wall with cutesy merchandise. Not my scene, but Kurumi had insisted on dragging us here after her parents offered to drive.

I knew what she was doing. She'd noticed me spacing out in class, checking my phone more than usual. This whole trip was her way of cheering me up without making it obvious.

"Look Koyuki-chan!" Kurumi squealed, hugging a massive Snow Fairy plush that was bigger than she was. "Isn't it adorable?"

"It's also 12,000 yen," Koyuki pointed out, trying to pry Kurumi's arms off the stuffed toy. "Where would you even put it anyway?"

"But it's sooo soooft! Please, Koyuki-chan? I'll let you cuddle with it too!"

"No-" Koyuki's face flushed as Kurumi grabbed her hand and pressed it against the plush's fuzzy surface.

I wondered, in another timeline, one where the world wasn't counting down its final days, Koyuki would've stayed Toukawa-san forever - a quiet girl disappearing behind her textbooks. We probably would've graduated without exchanging more than a handful of words.

Instead, here she was, half-heartedly fighting off Kurumi's attempts to make her cuddle with the Snow Fairy plush. The apocalypse does have a really weird way of bringing people together.

My eyes drifted down to a display case, filled with rows of keychains. Most were too cutesy for my taste, but something caught my eye - three tiny Japanese Snow Fairies linked together by magnets, each one no bigger than a 100 yen coin. They looked like they were holding wings.

"Whatcha looking at?" Kurumi materialized behind me, making me jump. Koyuki appeared at her side, looking relieved to have escaped the plush assault.

I unclipped the keychain from its rack and held it up. "What do you think?"

"It's adorable! I call dibs on the middle one!"

Of course Kurumi would want the middle fairy - always putting herself between people, pulling them closer together whether they liked it or not.

After what felt like more hours of Koyuki dragging Kurumi away from that oversized plush, we finally left the pop-up store.

Outside, the mall had turned into a battlefield of shopping bags and elbows, with people hauling more stuff than their arms could handle. Every flashy storefront and limited-time deal tried to lure me in, but I wasn't biting. No impulse buying today. That Tokyo penthouse needs to pay for itself somehow.

We ended up at the food court, squeezed around a tiny table with our trays. Little Shit poked his head out of my bag, eyeing Kurumi's fries until she slipped him one.

"So!" Kurumi chirped between bites. "What's everyone doing tomorrow?"

"Studying," Koyuki said with a straight face.

"Koyuki-chan! It's Christmas!"

"I'm kidding. Going to see the lights with my family."

"Hmph. Well, I'll be studying-" Kurumi stuck her tongue out at Koyuki's eye roll, "-just kidding! My family's coming over and we're hitting Seven Flags."

They both turned to me, waiting.

"YFC. Ordered it back in October."

What I didn't mention was how Dad wouldn't be there to fight me for the last drumstick like he always did.

Didn't really feel like killing the mood.