Tanaka Tanaka

"Tanaka... not half bad..."

Who even comes up with that name for a lie? It's way too cliche! I thought.

"Or maybe that's exactly why he'd use it... Wait! That's a genius move!"

Next to me, a confused cabaret girl stood with the bottle in her hands, hesitant to pour me one more cup.

"So then... how should I call you? Mister..."

"Tanaka!" I shouted, amazed by the brilliance of using that name as an alias.

"Oh, we can't have that, Mister Tanaka! We call our customers by their first names here. Especially one as... ahem... as special as you~"

I clicked my tongue at the other lady who spoke. I was annoyed that I had to think of another codename.

"Then... Tanaka!" I answered.

"Mister Tanaka... Tanaka?" the lady asked, tilting her head and furrowing her painted brows in confusion. I just nodded and signed for her to pour me the drink she kept holding.

It didn't matter what I called myself. Tonight, they were going to shower me with all of their love. The following morning, it was going to be like we had never met before.

No, I alone was going to act like that.

"Come again, Mister Tanaka Tanaka~"

I soon understood that the ladies would be waiting for my next visit.

"Tanaka... what a good name!"

As the morning sun melted on my face, I looked around. Tired yet happy people walked out of hotels. Here and there, a salaryman who had had too much to drink was getting kicked out of an izakaya. Some others stood crying in front of the pachinko security team.

I breathed in the polluted Tokyo air and predicted another hot day ahead. With the rest of my day planned out, I entered a ramen shop.

"Miso with hard noodles! Make it a big serving!"

When my ramen came, I breathed in, smelling the greasy soup.

"Ahhh..." I exhaled, satisfied as I looked back on the last couple of days.

"I love Japan!"

*****

Shino

I gave up.

"We never doubt our client's tastes in fashion, but this is a bit..."

I couldn't do it.

"Maybe if you try a color that fits the dye in her hair..."

In the first place, I had no idea what I was trying to do.

"If it is to the lady's liking... Excuse me, he really is your friend, right?"

When I saw the fifth clerk trying his best to call the cops on me with the phone behind his back, I realized that my chances of dressing Chigira in an appropriate manner were low. Color, design, material—I had to think of all of those things at once. Never in my life had I been the one to do the shopping, so I was in over my head.

The next stores I went to, I just let Chigira pick a piece of clothing she liked.

A green shirt, a red skirt, and—for some reason—a yellow belt.

For the belt she ran into a construction store. However I looked at it, that was not a belt meant to be worn out in the city.

"It's really cute!" she answered when I asked her the reason for picking that belt. I didn't probe any further. After picking her some shoes, I took her out of the shop. I needed a break.

I pulled out a cigarette from the pack I rarely use. For me, smoking was a stupid way to relieve some stress. I only smoked in critical situations, and this was one of them.

"Ah! Your hand!" Chigira shouted as she almost mashed the cigarette into my face with a palm.

It was my mistake for not thinking it through better. Of course I should have expected her not to know what a cigarette was. As punishment, I had to go as far as to borrow on the power of the curse so I could dodge in time. Even if I could control the curse through my training, using it for such trifle matters put me at risk of becoming a cursed one myself. I was lucky to be forgiven.

"Ah! My hand!" Chigira shouted next, shaking the tip of her finger that had gotten burned.

Everyone looked at us like we were part of a circus. I grabbed Chigira by the hand and dragged her back into the mall. Or at least that was what I tried to do, but she pulled away.

I let go of her hand, and she ran straight for the cigarette I had dropped on the ground in a hurry. Its tip was still lit up, and it was still smoking.

With an annoyed expression—the first of hers I had ever seen—she stepped on the burning roll of tobacco. She stepped on it multiple times. The oversized shoe I had given her was wiggling up and down as she lifted her leg. She seemed to really hate that cig.

Once done with her murderous act, Chigira looked back at me. I had been left speechless, not by her weird demeanor, but by how she had escaped me.

I looked at my palm. The tips of my fingers were still white. When I grabbed her, I didn't try to dose my strength. If anything, I gripped harder when she tried to pull away.

Still, she pulled her hand with ease, as if I were a toddler pulling on a grown adult.

My eyes were still opened wide when Chigira turned her face towards me.

"I've killed it! You're safe!" she shouted with no shame as she waved her hands at me. She then tried to take a step, but the oversized shoes played a trick on her, and she kissed the ground the next instant.

"Maybe I'm overthinking it..." I sighed. I concluded it must have been a lapse in focus on my side that let her pull her hand like that. There was no way such a clumsy girl could have been that strong.

*****

"Listen, after you change your clothes, you put mine in this bag. Okay?"

For some reason, Chigira looked annoyed.

"What?" I asked. 

I was convinced that a girl like her would have thought nothing of being asked to change clothes at the station's toilets—especially since she was the one who insisted on wearing them for the rest of the day.

Still, she looked mad, and I had no idea how to deal with her.

"Do you think I'm dumb or something?" she asked, to my surprise.

"Of course I know how to change clothes and how to use a bag! I wasn't born last week!"

"Well, technically—"

I stopped mid-sentence. Something made me think that it was better to not delve too deep into that topic. That must have been the right choice, for Chigira's frown turned into a smile as I stared at her. Humming carelessly, she left for the toilets.

I decided to trust her. Of course she could at least do that much, I thought.

But my confidence was waning faster and faster with each minute that passed.

After twenty minutes of waiting in front of the toilets, people started looking at me suspiciously.

After another ten minutes, I was convinced something had happened.

"Attention, dear clients! A mono has been detected in the passage! I repeat! A mono has been detected in the underground, at the toilets within the passage!"

As if to give me a sign, that broadcast resounded loudly within the station. I put on my mask and ran down the hall towards the women's bathroom without thinking twice. Behind me, the broadcast continued.

"Cameras have now confirmed that this mono looks... human?"