Chapter XX - Like I Was Never Born (IV)

As Mizushima-san left, Kokonoe slouched against the wall with a dramatic sigh. 

"This place is KILLING my social life. Do you know how hard it is to get a date with a Keio girl? They've got standards, man."

"Perhaps that's the limiting factor," Kanzaki murmured, so quietly I almost missed it.

"What was that, Ghost-kun?" Kokonoe narrowed his eyes.

"Nothing," Kanzaki replied, picking up a clipboard and heading out to the store floor without another word.

Kokonoe rolled his eyes.

"Seriously, what's with that guy? Always lurking and muttering to himself. Creepy." He turned his attention back to me. "So, Zombie-kun, be a pal and cover for me if I slip out around 11? She won't even notice if you're both at the registers."

"I can't do that," I said, more firmly than I usually spoke to him. Perhaps it was the lingering ache in my cheek, or the memory of her telling me I'd forgotten who I was.

Whatever the cause, I found myself less willing to accommodate his selfishness today.

"Come on, man! I've got a life outside this place. Don't you ever want more than... this?" He gestured vaguely at the store around us.

...Did I want more than this?

More than a job at a convenience store, more than a life spent cleaning up after my father, more than existing as a ghost among the living?

"My shift ends at 6:00. I'll be at Register #2."

I left him standing there, mouth slightly agape in surprise at being refused. As I made my way to the front of the store, I caught sight of Kanzaki methodically arranging magazines. Our eyes met briefly, and I thought I detected something like approval in his otherwise impassive gaze.

The next while or so passed in a familiar rhythm of retail work. I scanned items, made change, asked if customers wanted their purchases heated, and thanked them for their patronage. All interactions was a small performance—a smile, a bow, a formula of polite phrases that required no thought to execute due to my experiences at school.

"Eight hundred and fifty yen, please..."

"Would you like a bag for that?..."

"Thank you for shopping with us..."

"Please come again..."

Between customers, I found my thoughts drifting to the rooftop, to Minazuki-san, to the strange connection that had formed between us.

Would she be there again tonight?

Would she sing?

Does she even sing on weekends?

And if she did, would it still have the power to pull me back from the edge whenever I felt like falling?

"Excuse me, young man?"

I blinked, returning to the present to find an elderly woman peering up at me with concern.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, bowing in apology. "How can I help you?"

"I was asking if you have any of those almond cookies my husband likes. The ones in the blue package?"

"Ah, yes. They should be in aisle three, but let me check for you."

I stepped from behind the counter, grateful for the brief chance to stretch my legs. As I led the elderly customer to the snack aisle, I became aware of movement near the magazine rack. Kokonoe was leaning against the display, talking to a high school girl in a uniform I didn't recognize. His posture was deliberately casual, one hand running through his hair as he smiled down at her.

"Are you really a talent scout?" I heard the girl ask as we passed.

"Not officially yet, but I have connections," Kokonoe replied, his voice dropping to what he clearly thought was an impressive murmur. "My agency is always looking for fresh faces, and yours is definitely memorable..."

I clenched my jaw, focusing instead on locating the blue-packaged cookies. Finding them on the second shelf, I handed them to the elderly customer with a polite smile.

"Here you are. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No, dear, that's all. Thank you for your help. You're such a polite young man."

I escorted her back to my register, all too aware of Kokonoe's continuing performance behind us. This wasn't the first time he'd used the "talent scout" line on high school girls, and Mizushima-san had warned him about it multiple times. Yet somehow, despite his many infractions, he managed to keep his job—a mystery that ranked among the universe's great unanswered questions.

As the morning wore on, the store began to fill with customers—early churchgoers stopping for coffee, families picking up ingredients for Sunday lunch, and the usual weekend shoppers stocking up for the week ahead. The steady flow kept me too busy to dwell on my thoughts, which was almost a relief.

Around eleven, during a rare quiet moment, I noticed Kanzaki watching Kokonoe from across the store. Following his gaze, I saw that our coworker had moved his "talent scouting" operation outside to the small seating area, where he was now sitting across from not one but two high school girls, both giggling at whatever he was saying.

Without a word, Kanzaki pulled out his phone, snapped a quick photo, and turned toward the manager's office.

Ten minutes later, Mizushima-san emerged, expression calm but her eyes steely. She walked directly to the outdoor seating area, said something to Kokonoe that made the smile freeze on his face, and stood waiting as the girls gathered their things and left. She then pointed firmly at the door, and Kokonoe slunk back inside, his swagger temporarily dampened.

"Register three, Kokonoe-kun," she said crisply as they passed my station. "Kagami-kun, you can take your break now."

I nodded gratefully and made my way to the back room, rolling my shoulders to ease the tension that had built up during my shift. The small break area was empty when I arrived, which suited me fine. I sank into a chair and closed my eyes, allowing myself a moment of stillness.

"Here."

I startled at Kanzaki's voice, opening my eyes to find him standing across the table, holding out a bottle of green tea and what looked like a freshly made onigiri.

"These were about to expire," he said, setting them on the table. "Manager says they'll just go to waste otherwise."

It was a transparent excuse—one that Mizushima-san used regularly to ensure her part-time workers didn't go hungry. The ready-made food items in convenience stores had notoriously short shelf lives, and while officially they had to be disposed of after a certain time, Mizushima-san had her own system for determining what constituted "waste."

"Thanks," I said, accepting the offering. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten since the previous night.

Kanzaki nodded and turned to leave, but paused at the door. "Takahashi-san is coming in at noon," he said, almost as an afterthought.

"Mio-san?" I asked, surprised. Takahashi Mio, the night shift clerk, rarely overlapped with our Sunday morning shift. She was also Takahashi Ryunosuke's older sister, though the two were so different in personality that it was hard to believe they were related.

Kanzaki nodded again. "She switched with Yamamoto-san. Said something about wanting to check on 'her boys.'"

Despite everything, I felt a small smile tug at my lips. Mio-san had appointed herself as a sort of surrogate older sister to both Kanzaki and me from the moment we'd started working at Sunrise Mart. Her exuberant personality and genuine concern were as exhausting as they were endearing.

"We should prepare ourselves," I said, unwrapping the onigiri.

Kanzaki's expression didn't change, but there was a knowing quality to his nod before he disappeared back to the store floor.

I ate quickly, savoring the simple comfort of tuna mayo onigiri and cold tea. As I finished, the break room door burst open to reveal Takahashi Mio in all her fashionable glory—multiple ear piercings catching the light, her uniform somehow made stylish with the addition of a few subtle accessories that bent but didn't quite break the dress code.

"Shou-chan!" she exclaimed, using the familiar nickname that only she and Akise ever dared to use. "I knew I'd find you hiding back here! Let me look at you—oh my god, what happened to your face?!"

Before I could react, she was beside me, tilting my chin up to examine the bruise that had indeed darkened considerably over the past few hours.

"It's nothing," I said automatically. "Just walked into a door."

"A door shaped exactly like a hand? Come on, Shou-chan, I wasn't born yesterday." Her eyes, sharp and observant despite her playful demeanor, narrowed with concern. "This is the third 'accident' this month."

I gently extricated myself from her grip. "I have to get back to my register."

"Fine, avoid the question," she said, stepping back with a sigh. "But just so you know, my offer still stands. My parents have that spare room since I moved out for university, and they already love you from all my stories. Just say the word."

It wasn't the first time she'd made this offer, and as always, I felt a complicated mixture of gratitude and discomfort. The idea of escaping to a normal household, with normal parents who didn't drink themselves into oblivion or expect their child to act as both caretaker and breadwinner, was tempting in theory.

But in practice? I couldn't imagine it. Couldn't picture myself severing the sick, twisted bond that kept me tied to my father and our miserable apartment. Couldn't fathom what life would look like without the weight of responsibility that had become so much a part of me I no longer knew where it ended and I began.