Rations

Nothing had resolved itself. The questions were still creeping through my head. Okinawa? Wasn’t this an overreaction? Was I just supposed to drop everything and start afresh there? Disappear, without a word to Hiroki or Miho or Ayasa? What was I supposed to tell them if this really did just blow over?

And what if it didn’t just blow over? We were on the front lines. Over the past 3 days, the entire city had been rapidly swelling with soldiers- first it was just the Americans, but now even the Republic’s own army had entered the city in a stunning abrogation of the treaty. It was impossible to walk anywhere in the city without seeing sandbagged positions on street corners, impossible to enter any convenience store without seeing men in uniform trying to scrounge up something better than their standard-issue rations, impossible to lounge around in any public park without getting thrown out by MPs protecting radar antennas or surface-to-air missile launchers. The entire town was under strict curfew from sundown to sunrise. It was a good thing that it was happening right around the longest day of the year- there was just enough time to run errands after school.

Not that running an errand like this was easy. I had been told to buy groceries by my father, who had come home during the middle of the day after another all-nighter. The local grocery didn’t have anything left- it had been devoured between the hungry garrison and local residents panicked by the increasingly-warlike atmosphere of the town. I was now searching the aisles of a larger grocer, further to the west. It was close to where-

“Ah.”

Speak of the devil. It was Miho.

“Miho.”

“Touma.”

Her basket was empty aside from some pasta. Not surprisingly, the pickings were sparse at this store, too. It was far enough away from the American garrison that the international foods section hadn’t been raided.

“Out shopping?”

“Mmm. Just looking for something that won’t expire quickly.”

It was odd. Miho had stopped speaking to me at school. Here, she was acting like everything was normal.

“Anything good left on the shelves?”

“Not really. I saw a jar of peanut butter on the American food shelf. You might want to snap that up. I hear the American soldiers will pay a lot for that.”

“I’m not always trying to make money.”

“Is that right?”

Yep, Miho was still annoyed with me. She moved to grab some chocolates from the shelf. Dark chocolate with almonds. It was the last candy bar on the shelf.

“You know, I heard someone say that chocolate is the most calorie-dense food you can buy.”
Miho twisted back to me, glaring daggers.

“Are you calling me fat?”

“What? No, no, I just meant- it can last a long time if you’re careful.”

“Is that right?”

It was probably a good thing that Miho had avoided talking to me at school. She probably would have killed me if we’d had a conversation like this when she hadn’t cooled down so much. Miho continued on as if I hadn’t just accidentally critiqued her diet.

“So, how long do you think this will last?”

“This?”

“The whole war-games thing.”

“Ah.”

“‘Ah’ isn’t a period of time.”
“No, I- I mean, I think it’ll probably blow over in a week or so. But…”

Miho perked up at this.

“But?”

“Never mind.”

“Huh? What do you mean by ‘but’?”

I wasn’t supposed to tell Miho or anyone else about moving. My Father had made that explicit several times by now.

“It’s nothing, really.”

“That’s the most suspicious thing you could possibly say, Touma.”

“No, really.”

Miho rolled her eyes and turned to walk over to what was left of the bread section. There were a few flatbreads close to expiry and not much else.

“Shouldn’t you be finishing your shopping? You’re pretty far from home.”

Miho was right; curfew was closing in. It was about 45 minutes until sundown.

“I don’t know what to get. Mom usually did the shopping.”

“They put out new stock at noon. She should have come here earlier.”

“She’s…not really available right now.”

Miho glanced back, curious at this. I didn’t have a good explanation handy, but Miho didn’t pry any further.

“So. How has ‘Sayu’ been doing?”

“Oh. I thought you might have talked with her.”

“I don’t even know what her whole cover story’s supposed to be. I’d give her away if I talked to her.”

Miho let that go with a resigned lilt. She had washed her hands of the whole business after that night. Apparently she hadn’t spoken to Ayasa since then, either.

“Oh. She’s…”

Doing fine? Was it right for me to say that? I felt like Sayu was the kind of person who would always be doing fine, regardless of whatever she was really feeling at any given moment. Sayu didn’t burden other people with her troubles. Was that right? Was that really a characteristic of ‘Sayu’? Or was that Ayasa, projecting herself onto the character that I had created? Was it even my character any more?

“You look like you’re thinking something really annoying, Touma.”

“I- I don’t really know how she’s doing.”

“Haaah?”

Miho’s exasperation was so loud that it drew the attention of a few grocery clerks to us. Miho didn’t show her usual chagrin at causing a scene.

“I mean, I still talk to her. It’s just-”

“Just what?”

“I don’t know what she’s thinking any more. I thought I had some idea of what it was, but now I feel like she’s hiding something from me.”

“No shit.”

“What?”

“No shit, she’s hiding something from you.”

Miho spoke so brazenly. It was a bit disconcerting.

“Like what?”

“Anything and everything. You don’t need to know about it.”

“But why? I want to help her.”

“That’s why. I already told you.”

“Because I want it?”

“Yes.”

“Because she doesn’t trust me?”

“Probably.”

“Because she’s a Northerner?”

“Because she’s a human, Touma. Why would she trust you? You’re one of the only people here in the South who could get her in serious trouble. I’d be surprised if she trusted any of us. Especially you, if you go digging around trying to figure out what she’s hiding.”

Miho stomped off to the registers, satisfied with this being the final word on the subject. I chased after her. It must have looked childish to anyone watching us.

“I want her to trust me.”

“Really? Then give her a reason to trust you.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know her that well.”

“Any hints?”

“I just told you! I don’t know her!”

“You’re a girl. You must know something-”

Oops. That was the wrong thing to say. Miho was really getting irritated now.

“We. Are. Not. All. The. Same.”

“Oh- uh, I mean, I think you-”

“No. I can’t answer for her.”

“Fine. Then what would you do if-”

“If I were her, Touma? If I were her?”

“...Yes?”

“I’d be wondering why he was talking to some other girl and bothering her about it instead of asking me.”

“I have asked her! She just doesn’t want to-”

“Fine. Then I’d be wondering why he kept asking questions when I already gave him an answer.”

“Is it really okay to leave things like that?”

Miho let loose an exhausted groan.

“Yes! Of course it is!”

“Even if she’s-”

“Until she’s ready to talk to you about whatever it is, leave it alone, Touma. She’s not a puzzle to be solved any more than she’s a vehicle for your fantasies.”

“She’s- Wait, you knew about that?”

Without warning, Miho struck my chest with perfect open palm technique. It was nothing more than a gentle tap, but it felt weighty. I held it together enough to avoid stumbling back into a half-empty display of diet soda bottles.

“It was pretty damn obvious.”

“But…how?”

“I know what you like, Touma. Did you think I wasn’t paying attention last year?”

“No, um, uh…”

“You think it took no effort to be like that? That I was just being myself?”

“I…well, yeah. I did.”

“It’s never that simple.”

“Is this about that time you asked about your-”

“My hair? Yeah. That time and every other time.”

“There were other times?”

“There always are. And it’s not just you.”

“I’m… not really following you.”

Miho composed herself a little more, straightening her back out and wiping the resentful smile from her face.

“Maybe it’s the same for Higashiyama, too.”

“What is?”

“Constantly trying to be the person other people want you to be… It’s really tiring.”

“I’m not forcing her-”

“Sure. You’re not doing anything.”

It sounded a little sarcastic and a little serious. Miho turned towards the register, her basket still mostly empty.

“I’m really not trying to force her to be anything!”

“Get your shopping done, Touma. Curfew’s in 20 minutes.”

Miho didn’t say another word after that. She was right- it was almost sunset. I scrambled around the store to find something- anything- that could make a decent meal. My father probably wouldn’t eat anything- he had been skipping dinner. I found a few bags of unappetizing chips- they’d have to do for tonight.

I didn’t have time to dwell on why Miho had decided it was finally okay to talk to me. I didn’t even have time to think about why she was mad. I hadn’t even been able to remember to tell her that she was in the clear to come back to Ayasa’s apartment, now that we were certain the car she had kicked wasn’t one of the residents’ vehicles. I’m not sure that would have stopped her.

There was one thing that had stuck out from our brief but emotional encounter. It was something Miho hadn’t found an answer to. Neither had Hiroki, the day before. As I walked back with the dubious collection of snacks that I would call my dinner, I reached into my pocket. There was a number on my phone- waiting there, un-dialed. There was only one person who could answer.