A Snake’s Shed Skin

“Roku-nii-chan, teach me this!”

“Over here, over here! Teach me this too!”

“Let’s play!”

Elementary-school brats tugged at my clothes from every direction, and I peeled them off with the feeling that I was trapped in a nightmare.

“Hey, you little runts. Sit down and wait quietly. I’m looking it up right now.”

“““Nooo!”””

We were on the first floor of Hinokiya, the guesthouse managed by Fuzuki-san. The spacious living room, which had been built as a place for travelers and locals to interact, was currently occupied by a group of neighborhood kids.

As soon as word got around that I had arrived today, a request immediately came in along the lines of, “Why don’t we have him watch the kids who aren’t useful as farm labor? And if he could teach them some schoolwork while he’s at it, that’d be perfect.” So the three kids here were all among the younger elementary-school grades.

And they didn’t just want me to babysit them—they wanted me to help with their independent-study projects and crafts too… Well, apparently they were going to pay me generously for it, so I couldn’t complain too much.

If I weren’t getting paid, I’d throw every last one of these brats out the window. But since money was involved, I had to do the job properly.

“Teachmeteachmeteachmeteachme!”

“Playplayplayplayplay!”

“Heyheyheyheyheyheyheyhey!”

“You little brats…!”

Maybe they were spoiled by adults all the time, because they seemed convinced every human being on Earth was on their side. No matter how obviously irritated I looked, they charged straight at me without hesitation. It was as though the very concept of fear had been removed from their minds.

“My, my. Roku-chan, you certainly are popular.”

“Fuzuki-san, help me…”

“This is part of learning about society. Do your best.”

The old lady watched with a gentle expression, apparently having no intention of helping me. The children, meanwhile, seemed to possess at least enough common sense to know they shouldn’t bother Fuzuki-san—

—which meant all their firepower was concentrated on me.

I was bad with kids.

You could even say I hated them.

They had too much energy, and all their wishes were so pure.

They were the complete opposite of me.

“…Seriously. Every brat in this village is a handful. But it’s work.”

I let out a sigh and steeled myself.

Well, it wasn’t like this was my first time dealing with kids.

I had been forcibly dragged by Misuzu Kagari into something called the “Student Town Revitalization Team.” The meeting place was Onahebi Shrine, where the festival was apparently held, and a little over a dozen children from all across the village had been gathered there.

Kagari was the oldest, and even the one closest to my age was two years younger than me. If you averaged them all out, they probably weren’t even middle-school age.

On the way there, Kagari had given me a general rundown of what they had done so far.

My impression after hearing it all was,

“What you’ve already done sounds like more than enough to be proud of.”

“Everyone says we’re amazing. But it’s still not enough.”

“…If you say so.”

Kagari’s plan was certainly immature, overenthusiastic, and poorly balanced. You could say it was all determination and no substance, and there was no denying she was an idiot.

But more than that, she probably possessed an unusual kind of power.

The power to bring people together and produce actual results.

Something that let her carve open paths most people would have given up on.

And that experience of success was probably what made the ground beneath her feet unstable.

It wasn’t that she had never failed.

Still, I doubted she had ever experienced a truly major setback.

That was what I found myself thinking while looking at the students gathered in front of me.

By then, I had already graduated from high school and no longer had the status of a student. I still couldn’t imagine myself fitting in with this group.

It wasn’t like I had ever learned much about camaraderie during my own school years anyway.

It was far too late for me to learn that skill now.

“Today, I brought Roku-kun from the city as our special adviser!”

“I’m not from the city.”

“But your convenience stores are open twenty-four hours, right?”

“Convenience stores are supposed to be open twenty-four hours.”

“People from the city always make fun of the countryside like that.”

“Nyah-nyah, stupid countryside.”

“You said it! You trashy city person!”

The two oldest members nearly started beating the crap out of each other in front of a group whose average age was under twelve. Kagari and I remembered at the last second that people were watching and barely stopped ourselves.

The group was already radiating an atmosphere of, “Why did she invite this guy?”

“Ahem. Um… that was just our greeting.”

Kagari cleared her throat to cover it up, and I nodded beside her.

Honestly, lately we had gotten to the point where seeing each other immediately led to a fight. Since we were living under the same roof, we were already used to it.

If you were fighting without actually being angry, calling it a greeting wasn’t much of an exaggeration.

“I brought him here today because I thought we could get an outsider’s opinion on our activities.”

“I was dragged here.”

“I’ll thank you properly afterward.”

“You’d better.”

“I’m not going to lie about something like that.”

Kagari gave me a cheeky grin, then once again began explaining everything that had happened so far. This time, the children present joined in too, giving me even more detailed information—though sometimes in a completely jumbled mess.

If I had to summarize their complaints, it basically came down to, “Adults don’t understand children.”

“I see… Yeah. My opinion hasn’t changed. Like I told Kagari, even if someone cancels a promise on you at the last minute, I don’t think you have the right to condemn them for it.”

The atmosphere immediately became prickly.

I was used to having hostility directed at me, but the awkwardness never changed.

I shoved my hands into my pockets and exhaled heavily.

“You say adults don’t understand you. Fine. But do you understand adults? You just assume that because they’re adults, they should understand everything. You expect that of them, force those expectations onto them, and dream about what you want them to be. Someone broke a promise? A casual verbal agreement isn’t even a real promise.”

I had barely ever expected anything from anyone.

As for my parents, now that I could look at things calmly, there were even times when I felt grateful that they had paid for me until I turned eighteen.

The fact that I couldn’t go to university was my own failure to negotiate successfully.

These kids had probably lived their whole lives having their expectations met—

—and that was a far better life than mine.

But precisely because of that, I thought they were vulnerable.

“An adult is just what you and I will be called after we live a few more years. Nobody magically becomes perfect. If adults could grant every wish, everyone would be sitting around playing games instead of working. So if you want people to act, don’t rely on sentiment. Make your case properly. Give the other person something they want and bring them to the negotiating table, or the same thing will happen again.”

The last part was directed almost entirely at Kagari.

I understood now that she had the ability to move people.

She was a damn brat, but I acknowledged that talent.

Even I thought she was impressive.

“…I see. Yeah. I was being childish.”

“A damn brat.”

“Shut up, scumbag.”

“You little— I’m giving you advice here, and you still have to get cheeky?”

“It’s Roku-kun’s fault for saying everything in the most irritating way possible! Oh, or is Japanese your first language?”

“Grrrrrr!”

“Gnnnnn!”

The two oldest members furrowed their brows and glared at each other.

The alarmed children hurried between us and mediated our pathetic argument.

Once we had been pulled apart and calmed down, Kagari muttered,

“…Thanks. I’ll try talking to them properly when I’m calmer.”

“…Yeah. I could’ve chosen my words better too, but… good luck.”

Feeling strangely awkward, I scratched my head.

This made it look like we were actually friends or something.

“Well, I’m heading home first. I’m hungry.”

“Roku-kun! I’ll definitely thank you later!”

“That’s just a verbal promise.”

If I got thanked merely for spewing complaints like this, all the actual labor I had been doing would start to feel ridiculous.

Profit was best earned through honest sweat.

After leaving the approach to Onahebi Shrine, I turned around.

“She could stand to be that selfish too.”

I thought of Yūha, living in a distant town, and felt a pang in my chest.

She wanted far too little and treasured even the smallest things as though they were enough to make her happy.

If Yūha asked for something, those parents would do everything in their power to give it to her.

Yet she was the kind of girl who would pick up a flower blooming by the roadside instead of reaching for a dazzling jewel.

Thinking of her, I looked toward the sky beyond the mountains.

She would be happier without me.

I believed that.

And yet my desire to see her refused to disappear.

“—And that’s how Roku-kun and I became friends!”

“I am so, so, so sorry for all the trouble Rokurō caused you!”

The instant the story ended, Yūha bowed deeply.

It was such a profound apology that she looked ready to drop to her knees and press her forehead to the ground.

“And it wasn’t just Misuzu-san. He really said all that in front of children, didn’t he? He definitely made some of them cry, right?”

“Nope. They were all like, ‘That city bro is awesome. I’m gonna negotiate too.’”

“They were some tough kids…”

Even Yūha found Rokurō’s face frightening when she imagined him lecturing someone.

Apparently, the children in this village were built unusually tough.

“His way of saying things was definitely awful, and his personality is the worst, but if Roku-kun hadn’t been there, I think I’d still be a damn brat even now. So I’m grateful to him.”

“I see.”

“So you don’t need to feel sorry, Yūha-chi! That was something Roku-kun and I already settled between ourselves.”

“I’m glad.”

Yūha sighed in relief and placed a hand over her chest.

But after a little while, something began bothering her.

There had been something strange about the story.

There was no way that Rokurō would have obediently shown up at something called a “Student Town Revitalization Team” meeting.

There had to be some ulterior motive.

(No way. But if it’s Rokurō, I can actually imagine it…)

She set the question aside for now and decided to ask him directly later.

Misuzu looked at the color of the sky and stood up.

“We should probably head back soon. I’m going to help Grandma make dinner. Want to help?”

“Definitely! I wanted to learn how to make food that tastes like hers.”

“Oh, then that works out perfectly.”

They passed through the torii gate side by side and began walking back toward the house.

Just before they reached the end of the approach, Misuzu suddenly stopped as though she had remembered something.

“Oh, right. I have a present for you later, Yūha-chi. Can you come to my room?”

“A present?”

“Yeah. I was originally going to give it to Roku-kun, but he wouldn’t take it.”

“What is it?”

“A snake’s shed skin.”

Yūha tilted her head at the completely unexpected answer.

She could find no connection whatsoever between that long, slender creature and the concept of a present.

“Normally, it’s treated as a good-luck charm for improving your fortune with money. But in this village, it has a different meaning.”

“A different meaning… Given that story, is it related to romance?”

“Exactly. Based on the story of the man who turned the woman back from a snake into a human, there’s this superstition here: ‘If you give a snake’s shed skin to someone of the opposite sex and they accept it, your eternal love is guaranteed.’ Apparently, it means, ‘I will love even the ugliest parts of you.’”

“Even the ugliest parts…”

“Is there anyone you’d like to give one to, Yūha-chi?”

“No. There’s no one like that.”

“I see. But keep it anyway. Even if you never use it that way, it’s still a good-luck charm.”

“Thank you.”

There was someone she knew who would love every part of her.

But she didn’t want him to love her forever.

Someday, she wanted him to leave her behind and find happiness for himself.

So she probably could never give him the snake’s shed skin.