“Five hundred ninety-four yen… five meals’ worth… and it’s already two a.m.”
I sprinted to the convenience store in my pajamas in the dead of night. What I bought was omurice—because when it comes to kids’ favorites, that seemed like the safest choice. Of course, buying two was out of the question, so for myself, I thawed the taco rice I’d brought home as staff meal leftovers from work.
With the low table between us, the mysterious girl and I began our far-too-late dinner.
“Let’s eat.”
I pressed my hands together and took a bite of the taco rice. Yep—BAMBOO café’s staff meals were as reliable as ever. The taste was good, sure, but the fact that it was free makes it the ultimate seasoning.
Meanwhile, the mysterious girl just sat there, staring intently at me. When I kept eating and ignored her, she suddenly grabbed the spoon with her left hand and stabbed it into the omurice. It wasn’t so much that she was left-handed—it looked more like she was mirroring my movements exactly, like a reflection.
She scooped up a rough bite of omurice and shoved it into her mouth—
“…!”
Stars seemed to scatter across her big eyes.
“This is amazing! What is this?!”
From there, she just kept eating and eating. Her eyes went wide as she shoveled it in at full speed, like someone who’d never eaten a proper meal before.
“Uh… omurice, I guess.”
“Omurice! I love it!”
…She’s way too happy. It’d been a brutal hit to my wallet, but somehow, I felt just a tiny bit rewarded. Just a tiny bit.
“What’s this yellow part? And the red part? And the squishy stuff inside?”
“Chicken eggs, ketchup, chicken…”
While replying to the rapid-fire questions, I reached for the tablet on the table and turned it on. Just in time—Yachiyo’s livestream was starting.
“When there’s an age difference, people around you start saying things, and you end up being overly careful or keeping your distance, right?” But Yachiyo really loves those age-gap friendships you see in movies~☆”
Listening to Yachiyo’s smooth, familiar voice, it suddenly felt like my normal life was drifting back.
“Yum, yum—so goooood!”
Even though right in front of me was a mysterious girl wolfing down omurice.
What is this kid?
Who is she, really?
No—since I already know who she is, the question should be—
“So… where did you come from?”
The girl paused mid-bite.
“Mm.”
With an expression that screamed Isn’t it obvious?, she pointed toward the full moon visible through the window.
The moon… the moon, huh. I see.
I hadn’t expected an answer at all. She was supposed to be a baby, yet she remembered something from before coming here. I’d known it already, but this really sealed it—she’s definitely not human.
“So? What’s an alien here for? An invasion?”
“Hmm… I don’t really remember very well~~. I just know every day was suuuper boring~~. And I think I wanted to run away to somewhere fun~~.”
That explanation was way too light. And the goal? Completely unclear.
“Don’t run away.”
“Ehh~~? Why nooot~~?”
Why, you ask?!
“Running away is easy, but starting over afterward is hard. Are you ready for that?”
“Ready~? If I don’t feel like doing it, I won’t. If I feel like it, I will!”
This conversation is going nowhere. How much thought is she putting into this? Or is she not thinking at all?
“It's only natural that your everyday life is boring”
“Huh?! Nooo! Are you really okay with that, Iroha?!”
“Whether I’m okay with it or not isn’t the point—wait, how did you know my name?!”
“Hehehe~ wanna knooow~?”
Ugh, whatever. She’s being smug and it’s annoying. Time to change the subject.
“By the way—does this ring any bells for you?”
I cut off Yachiyo’s video and showed her an illustrated copy of The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter on the tablet.
“What’s that?”
“The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter. A princess comes from the moon, is born from inside a bamboo stalk, gets picked up and raised by an old man, gets marriage proposals, a bunch of stuff happens… basically, that kind of story.”
I wrapped it up with a lazy explanation, and the girl tilted her head, clearly confused.
“Marriage?”
So cute—!
No wait no! Absolutely not!!
For a split second she looked genuinely pure and innocent, and I almost got fooled—but I managed to stay sane.
“Bamboo?”
“Well, you came out of a utility pole, not bamboo, but still.”
It was absurd, sure—but the similarities were there. Once-glowing bamboo. A baby. A girl who grew rapidly. And the moon.
“So… could it be… you’re Princess Kaguya?”
“Looks delicious…”
“Hey, listen to me. I’m talking about you. Don’t you get bored before I do.”
The girl, who had demolished the omurice in an instant, wasn’t looking at the tablet displaying The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter. Her eyes were locked onto the taco rice in my hands instead. Don’t tell me she’s still planning to eat.
“Uuu…”
And then—instant fake crying. When I gave up and shoved the plate of taco rice toward her, she immediately dropped the act, grabbed her spoon, and struck a pose.
“Thanks for the food! So, what were we talking about again?”
“That’s what I’m saying!”
“Ohhh, right, right. So basically, Iroha is this old man, huh?”
I’ll send you flying. All the way to the moon.
“Are you seeing me eighty years into the future or something~~? No. That’s not it.”
“Nuhaha~”
Now she’s laughing it off. She sure learns all the worst tricks fast.
“Whoa, this omurice is good too!”
“That one’s taco rice!”
“Omurice, tasty!”
Just listen already. Okay, I get it now—there’s no way she’s Kaguya-hime. She’s just a gluttonous alien.
“How do I eat even more!?”
“Huh? Well, you could buy it, or cook it yourself…”
“Cooooking~~? I wanna tryyyyy!”
Whoa, that’s bright… I’m overwhelmed by the sheer excitement radiating off her.
“So, how does the story end?”
Huh? Oh—the Bamboo Cutter story. That was a sharp turn back.
“The old man raises her, she gets marriage proposals, lots of stuff happens… what comes next?”
She was listening? She looked bored, but she seems just as greedy for information as she is for food. For a moment, I remembered the glowing-eyed baby from my dream.
“Iroha?”
Looking closely… she really does look the same as when she was a baby—wait, no, that’s not the point.
“Ah, yeah. Um… people come to take her back. The old man and the others try to fight it, but it’s pointless. The princess is made to wear a feather robe, forget everything about Earth, and return to the moon. The end.”
“Ooh.”
“……”
“So? What happens next?”
“There is no next. It’s over. The end. Happily ever after.”
“Wait, that’s it? She goes back to the moon and that’s the end? What’s happy about that!? That’s a totally bad ending! Kaguya-hime is definitely unhappy! And the fact that it pretends to be some kind of heartwarming story makes it even worse!”
Why is she so worked up about this? She just keeps piling it on. Now that I think about it, I don’t actually know whether that ending was what the princess wanted. But—
“That’s just the kind of story it is.”
I was done with this, so I picked up the empty plates and carried them to the sink. I meant to signal that the conversation was over, but—
“I don’t want a bad ending.”
She’s still at it.
“I want it to be happy!”
Yeah, yeah.
“Bad endings are nooo gooood~~♪ I want it to be haaappyyy~~♪”
Why are you singing? Honestly…
I leaned back against the edge of the sink and turned around.
“There’s nothing you can do. No matter how much you yell or sing, what’s decided won’t change.”
I looked down at her and said.
“We have no choice but to accept it and be prepared.”
Or maybe… that was something I was really saying to myself. The words sank down my throat and left a heavy weight in my chest.
“……”
The girl stared straight at my face. I didn’t think I’d said it that harshly, but she froze, silent—two seconds, three seconds, four seconds… What was she thinking? Just as the silence was starting to get uncomfortable—
“Alright! I’ve decided!”
This time, the girl declared it boldly.
“I’ll make it a happy ending myself!”
She struck a sharp pose like a magical girl—or maybe an elementary-school idol—in a cramped four-and-a-half-tatami room.
“And I’ll take you with me to that happy ending too, Iroha. Together!”
Naturally, I got dragged into it.
“A happy ending”… it felt like someone had flicked a small stone against my toe.
—Convenient stories are poison. They’re the ones you need to be most suspicious of.
“I don’t need a happy ending. A normal ending is just fine.”
The ending is already decided. All that’s left is to pile things up until we get there.
“No way, no way, no way! That can’t be true!”
The alien is saying something, but I’m not listening. My life is hectic enough as it is—I can’t let it get any more stirred up than this.
My three-day weekend is already over in, like, a blink. Ugh, I’ve got another canker sore.
Seriously, just let me sleep already…
・・・
From far away I could hear the cries of a turtle dove, chased off by the sound of a newspaper delivery bike passing by. I cracked the curtains open just a little, and the newborn morning sun—
“Huh? This is the second time.”
I sprang up and checked the room. She wasn’t there. Closet, unit bath, balcony, back to the closet… she’s not here. The room is filled only with morning particles and the residue of night.
She left? Or maybe… the whole thing was just a dream caused by exhaustion.
“Yes!”
I threw a full-powered fist pump. Right on cue, the drawer under the sink slid open.
“Here I am~”
Yeah, figures. Inside was the girl, even bigger than last night, sitting curled up with her knees hugged to her chest.
“Hey, hey, who’s this person you’re always watching? Do you like her?”
After finishing breakfast faster than usual, getting ready faster than usual, and somehow managing to be ready for school way earlier than usual, I was frantically working the frying pan when the alien asked me that, casually fiddling with the tablet. Even if she’s an extraterrestrial, being asked about Yachiyo makes me happy. I keep my voice from sounding too excited as I answer.
“Tsukimi Yachiyo. AI livestreamer. My oshi. She can split into copies, sing and dance, and she’s eight thousand years old—well, that’s the setting.”
“Huh? AI? So she’s a robot? Whaa—sounds fun!”
For some reason, the alien gets even more excited, making the table creak as she uses it like a chair. Hey—don’t sit on the table.
Well, whatever. Having finished my last task, I turn off the stove, wash my hands, sling my school bag over my shoulder, put on my shoes, and say,
“I’m heading out.”
“Ehh!? No, no, no!”
The alien charges at me at full speed. And wow—she’s gotten bigger again. She looks like she’s almost my age now.
“Stay with me!”
You sound desperate. Weren’t you saying “whaa” a second ago?
“No. I can’t skip school. Don’t leave the house. Food’s there. Pancakes.”
I cut her off sharply and pointed at the frying pan on the stove. Sakayori Iroha’s revolutionary poverty cuisine: “flour-and-water pancakes.”
The alien stuffs her mouth immediately, then twists her face in agony.
“This tastes like crap…”
Rude as hell. Hey, you don’t have to eat it anymore.
“Well then, I’m going.”
“Wait! No, no!”
Ugh, it’s hot… Being clung to in this room—where air conditioning is banned except for a fan—is basically torture. So aliens have body heat too, huh. Come to think of it, even when she was a baby, she was all warm and toasty…
“This is weird. I’m an alien, you know? Leaving a suspicious person like me alone in your room and going out—normal people do that? Is school really that important?”
So you’re self-aware!? Fine, then let me say this.
“More important than my life.”
I looked straight into both her eyes and said it clearly.
The school life I built over the past year is the result of my stubbornness, effort, and endurance. I’ll protect it with my life—and I won’t let anyone destroy it. Especially not some sketchy alien whose true nature I don’t even know.
“It’s my fault for getting involved with you, but I’m going to put everything back the way it was.”
This little pretend parenting game is over. It was a reasonably meaningful three days, sure—but now I’m going back to being my original, perfect high school self.
“So you should go back to the moon too.”
“…But I don’t know how to get back. And this place kinda seems fun.”
What does “this” place mean? Earth? Are you planning to enjoy yourself here?
“Anyway, hurry up and remember. By today. Got it?”
I thrust out my index finger like a lightsaber in a science fiction movie. The alien looked like she was about to argue back, but whether it was my intensity or something else, she swallowed her words and took a step back.
“I’m leaving.”
Seizing the moment, I said it a third time and shut the door. No sign of her chasing after me.
Booo.
I felt like the alien said something from the other side of the closed door, but it was probably just my imagination, so I ignored it and headed down the apartment stairs.
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