003

I set off on the route I usually took every afternoon. It was a few minutes past five since I'd finished talking with Takanashi.

People streamed past this path in droves. Most of them were office workers heading home from work and schoolchildren—elementary, middle, high school, even college students. The shopping center was flooded with visitors as usual. Evening was the time when most residents of this area actively came here, especially those who needed to prepare dinner—like me.

I entered the vegetable shop I usually visited. Inside, there was an old woman cutting vegetables. Or, to be more precise, there should have been an old woman cutting vegetables at that table.

But right now, she wasn't there.

There was someone in this shop, though. Someone was cutting vegetables. Someone I'd never seen in this shop before. But I recognized that face. She was too conspicuous. Anyone would immediately realize her identity without having to investigate first.

The eyepatch said it all.

It was Kasuga Kaneko.

"Kasuga Kaneko...?" I called out her full name.

"Ah, yes," the girl replied, glancing toward me. Then she fell silent.

"......."

The silence stretched on until finally a voice from the front door startled us.

"Oh, a customer."

It was a woman in her fifties. The woman who usually cut vegetables where Kasuga was now standing. She was the owner of this shop.

"Good evening," I greeted her.

"Ah, it's you," she replied with a friendly, grandmotherly smile. "Thank you for coming every day."

"Ah, yes."

"Then carry on. My back isn't being cooperative. If you need anything, just ask the new girl, okay."

"Alright. Please rest well."

The old woman went inside. Her back hadn't been healthy for a long time.

I turned back to the girl.

She was still cutting vegetables.

"You work here, Kasuga?"

"First day today."

Pinch me if this is a dream.

Kasuga Kaneko had just voiced an answer.

She spoke.

I didn't know she could do that, too.

"Are you going to buy something?"

She was asking me something now.

I'm serious—pinch me if this is really a dream.

"Can I help you with anything?"

But it seemed not. This wasn't a dream. This was the real truth of my consciousness.

The knife in Kasuga Kaneko's hand looked very real. As real as death stalking humans every second.

If that was the case, then what did it mean that I could question that?

"Kasuga."

Kasuga, still cutting vegetables, turned toward me. Her eyes were as flat as a cloudless sky.

"Um... This is going to sound really stupid. But I hope you won't laugh at me."

"Why?"

She didn't care at all. Those eyes didn't care at all.

"Do you remember me?"

Another embarrassingly stupid question!

"Yes, I remember." Kasuga answered.

She remembered me!

"Really?"

"Aren't we in the same class, Class 2-7." She swung hard at the vegetables on the cutting board, producing a chopping sound that seemed filled with anger. "Also, the person who bumped into me this morning."

Yeah, she remembered me.

The knife made that perfectly clear.

"S‑sorry about this morning. That was... an accident."

Those narrow eyes glared at me. As thin as the kitchen knife blade in her hand. I didn't know if this meeting was predetermined as good luck, or if it was actually bad luck for me—clearly, being the first person to hear Kasuga Kaneko's voice was certainly a rare opportunity. However, meeting her when she was equipped with that knife, for some reason, made me feel like I was cursed today.

You can't guess how quiet people like her think. Also, the kuudere are known as merciless creatures. Maybe I'd get torn apart today for bumping into her earlier.

"That's easy for you to say."

Kasuga said those words.

"I wonder why humans with healthy eyes can never be careful. Accidents like that are very dangerous, you know? If that had been on a public road and you were riding a motorcycle, I might have died without even remembering the incident at all."

Meaning, she'd be dead already.

"Your analogy is too exaggerated—"

"Focusing on caution is an excessive matter that needs reviewing at all times. The police always warn road users to stay alert and not use phones or drink alcohol while driving. Chain accidents can happen anytime if you're careless."

Oh, what is this? A speech from the police chief? She was going on like this just because of one incident that didn't cause any injury or minor scratch. And why bring traffic into it?

"U‑um... Kasuga... I only brushed against you. Why are you so angry?"

"Brushed against you?" Her eyes and the knife in her hand threatened sharply. "That's an irresponsible statement. You pushed me, not brushed."

There's no difference. And you're fine, aren't you?

"What if I had been pushed too hard and ended up hitting my head on the wall, causing permanent brain damage—would you take responsibility?"

This conversation was getting long now.

"But... that accident didn't happen. You're fine, right? Not even a scratch."

"I'm just saying if."

And you're making a fuss over an if that didn't happen?!

"Fine, forget it. Just be careful next time. Use your eyes properly when you're running. Don't bump into people again."

That was a closing remark, right?

"Y‑yes, alright. I'll remember."

Meaning it was over? Thank goodness...

Now, how about we change the subject—

"You talk a lot when you're outside, huh."

Kasuga had finished cutting all those vegetables. The radishes, sliced into halves and quarters, she placed in a basket beside the table where she'd been cutting. She stuck the knife diagonally into the table. Speaking of knives—at my house, there were many things scarier than that.

"I have to talk when I'm working. That's the main requirement."

True. If you don't talk, how can you serve customers? I felt a little disappointed.

"Then why don't you talk in class? You seem perfectly normal here."

Suddenly, her eyes glared. She stared at me for a moment, then looked away, exhaled a short breath, and answered.

"I don't want to have contact with anyone at school. Dealing with people in class only adds to life's burdens. I don't want to set aside my precious time to listen to them babble, complain, and entertain them talking about things that aren't actually important to me. It's all a waste of time."

Those weren't words that should come from the best student for nine consecutive years. She'd just shown an uncensored apathetic confession. All this time, Kasuga had lived by a strong idealism of caring for others—explanation sourced from Takanashi. That's why she could remain class president for nine straight years without compromise. But now, none of that image seemed to fit her at all. She looked more like a loner disappointed in fate and the times.

Just as Takanashi had told me. This girl had changed. Completely. 360 degrees.

"You're okay with that? They say you used to be a hardworking, popular kid. But now you've become a loner who's very hard to approach. Doesn't that hurt?"

Kasuga sat on the edge of the table. She tilted her head, giving a strange look from that open right eye. One hand touched the eyepatch over her left eye. That face was cold as ice.

"The only thing that hurts me is this eye."

She was referring to her left eye.

The eyepatch came off.

And then the full surface of the one‑eyed girl's face was revealed.

Kasuga Kaneko's left eye didn't have a lens like her right eye. Not like the eyes of a typical intact human. That left eye had only a white surface. Like an unpainted canvas. That eye was already blind. Or more precisely, it had lost its vital organs. Retina, ciliary body, cornea, and so on. It was as if she'd never had those organs from the start.

"This eye is what hurts me. Only this eye."

That eye. That abnormal eye. Kasuga Kaneko wore that eyepatch to hide the truth about her left eye. That horrifying truth.

"Do you think it's normal," Kasuga said, reattaching her eyepatch, "this left eye of mine?"

If she'd been born premature, that kind of phenomenon wouldn't be strange to see. Missing one or several organs in a baby born prematurely is a common occurrence. However, the one‑eyed girl, Kasuga Kaneko, had never experienced what we call premature birth. That meant her eyes were once complete. There were two. Like me, and other normal humans.

If assumed it happened due to an accident, the probability could still be considered. Disease, declining body function, and dietary errors could also cause certain changes in the eyeball. However, if that was the cause of Kasuga's left eye case, then why did she ask if it was normal? Isn't damage with a reason a normal occurrence? Imperfect birth, disease, accident, or lifestyle changes—all of that can be explained.

If Kasuga Kaneko talked about normality with that tone, did it mean there was something wrong with that eye? Something inexplicable. Blindness without cause. Something that happened for no clear reason. Something that just happened.

"I used to really enjoy my duties as class president. All of that was fun. It's just that I don’t have time to take care of other people's lives now. I have a life I need to stabilize. My economic problems are more important than anything else right now. My parents are no longer together. I've had to support myself for the past two years, and it might continue forever. I don't have time to fool around and live the typical high school girl life."

A shocking confession. I never expected it at all. Economic issues, parental separation, and living alone for the past two years. Kasuga Kaneko had apparently been going through tough days.

"Forget about that—what exactly do you need here? Are you shopping or just bothering me?"

"Eh? Ah—shopping, of course."

"Then pick what you want to buy and leave immediately."

Bad attitude as usual—"Don't you need to serve customers, Kasuga?"

"Humans like you aren't worth serving. And don't talk to me. My energy isn't being paid to be wasted talking to you."

—but this time, with voiced expression.

"Then who should I talk to?"

"Talk to the vegetables over there."

"They can talk?"

"If you believe, they can."

"This isn't Wonderland!"

"Of course it isn't, idiot. It's a vegetable shop."

This encounter made me realize why Kasuga Kaneko was respected by everyone. She was dynamite in a skirt. Hard to handle in a conversation.