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Having finished shopping at the convenience store, Misa-chan and I decided to walk back together since we lived in the same apartment building.
“Is Misa-chan always this late getting home?”
“Not really. I study for entrance exams at the library every day, so…”
“I see, you’re a high school sophomore, huh… College entrance exams, man, that brings back memories~.”
“To be honest… I actually wanted to start working right out of high school.”
Misa-chan started speaking in a slightly lower tone.
“We’re a single-parent household, so I didn’t want to be a burden on my mom…”
“Hmm…”
Not knowing how to respond, I just let out a vague hum.
“But when my mom found out about that, she scolded me and told me I absolutely had to go to college…”
“Well, I suppose that’s just how parents are.”
Saying something completely unbacked by any personal parenting experience, I offered a casual reply.
“That’s why I’m studying like my life depends on it.”
“I see… Just try not to stay out too late, though. It’s dangerous.”
“Ehehe, my mom says the exact same thing.”
Misa-chan narrowed her eyes and smiled happily.
“Onitsuka-san, do you always eat convenience store bento for dinner?”
Misa-chan asked, peering into the plastic shopping bag I was holding.
“Pretty much. It’s close and convenient, so I just end up going there.”
If I were being entirely honest, my lunch was a convenience store bento, too.
“Don’t you ever cook for yourself?”
“Well, living alone as a guy means bento boxes are just a lot easier.”
“Hmm, is that so?”
“Though your mom does share some of her side dishes with me from time to time.”
“Yeah, I know. If I were as good at cooking as my mom, I’d totally make bento boxes for Onitsuka-san.”
“Are you bad at cooking?”
“Yup, totally terrible at it.”
Misa-chan drooped her shoulders and cowered slightly.
“Ha-ha… What about you, Misa-chan? What’d you buy?”
“Me?”
Right after asking, I regretted posing such a redundant question.
Asking a high school girl what she bought at a convenience store wasn’t exactly the most refined thing to do.
However, Misa-chan simply replied,
“I got this.”
With the plastic bag tilted proudly—making my prior hesitation feel foolish—she pulled out a pen.
“A pen?”
“Yup, a ballpoint pen. This pen writes super smoothly, and your hand doesn’t get tired at all.”
“Oh, really.”
“Ah, are you looking disappointed?”
“No, not at all.”
I was just a little thrown off, that’s all.
“Really~?”
“Really, really.”
“Geez, Onitsuka-san—”
Clang-clang!
As we stood arguing in the dimness, a bicycle bell rang out from behind us.
The moment I turned around, a salaryman-looking middle-aged man in a suit sped past right beside Misa-chan on his bicycle, cutting sharply through the air.
“Eep!”
“Whoa…”
I reached out and caught Misa-chan as she lost her balance.
“You okay?”
“Ah, yes. Thank you.”
“That was dangerous…”
As I glared at the receding bicycle, Misa-chan piped up,
“Well, maybe we were in the wrong, too…”
“Eh? Why? Anyone can see they were in the wrong.”
“Maybe that man was just trying to warn us that walking side-by-side on the road like that could get us hit by a car, so he rode past like that to warn us, you know?”
Misa-chan offered a rather unique interpretation.
“Hmm, you think so? I bet he was just irritated. I don’t think walking side-by-side on a road where cars barely even pass is that bad.”
Even as I said that… I found myself reconsidering. Maybe there was a perspective like Misa-chan’s, too.
From that man’s point of view back then, perhaps he believed he was in the right while we were in the wrong.
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