Chapter 8: The Blind Monomaniac’s Infatuation ④

The seasons change quickly, and it’s already December.

Bound by the inability to act decisively, Kaede-chan’s whereabouts remain unknown. Not a single clue has been found.

Even if we could rely on the police, it’s been five months since she disappeared. While it’s true that a child is missing, it started as her running away from home. Over 80,000 missing persons reports are filed every year. The resources allocated to finding Kaede-chan would be a drop in the ocean.

I’ve considered every possible method I could think of, but none of them seem promising.

The only thing Momiji could do was share the situation with people she trusted, hand out Kaede-chan’s photo, and hope for a sighting.

I could see the toll it was taking on Momiji. She was putting on a brave face to avoid worrying me.

That’s why I’ve avoided bringing up Kaede-chan myself. I’ve told her to let me know if there’s anything I can do to help, but she’s only asked once. Kaede-chan’s name rarely comes up between us, which is the clearest sign that there’s been no progress.

Momiji and Kaede-chan. While I’m worried about them, I also have my own life as a university student to live. I’ve been carrying on with my days, concerned but unchanged.

Yes… nothing has changed in my daily life.

Just as there’s been no progress with Kaede-chan, there’s been no progress in my love life either.

It’s been half a year since I fell for Tama-san, and I still can’t get him to step outside the shop.

I’ve achieved my initial goal of getting to know Tama-san and letting him know me. But if I can’t take things deeper, it’s meaningless.

I’m cute. That’s not arrogance—it’s what the men who fawn over me day and night tell me. And my romantic history, my dark past, proves it.

But looks aren’t everything. I’ve come to realize that my so-called adorable charm is just surface-level.

True charm lies in one’s inner self, their humanity.

This love, which began like something out of a drama, has fallen flat.

Maybe I didn’t truly see Tama-san for who he was at first. But over the course of six months of interaction, I’ve been drawn deeper and deeper to his inner self.

Tama-san is different from other men—he’s in a league of his own. In front of him, I’m just a cute little girl with nothing but looks. Maybe my personality is as light as a balloon, so he can’t see me as a woman and only treats me like a child.

Maybe he prefers someone more mature, like the master.

But that’s no reason to give up. I’m filled with the passion to make this love succeed.

It feels like I just moved to Tokyo, but looking back, time has flown by. The year is almost over. If time moves this fast, my time as a university student won’t last much longer. I’m starting to feel anxious, as if my youth will end with just this unrequited love.

My natural cuteness alone won’t make this love succeed.

It’s only recently that I’ve come to understand this.

The master once taught me a life lesson.

When people make up their minds, they can take the first step toward a new path, regardless of the outcome. If you want to gain more than others, you have to take risks and move forward.

If I truly want this love to succeed, I have to take the first step. I have to reach out. Even if I’m scared of being rejected, even if I’m terrified of this love ending, I have to stretch out my hand toward the wish I want to fulfill.

That’s why I’ve made up my mind.

This Christmas, I’ll ask him out to dinner. I’ll tell him I want to see him outside the master’s shop.

For now, I won’t think about what happens if it doesn’t work out.

The first Friday of December.

The door that usually opens easily, separating the ordinary from the extraordinary, feels heavy today. I push it open slowly, as if moving a heavy object.

“Well, it’s finally decided. I’m heading to the battlefield.”

“Making a child say that… how pathetic.”

“Hmph, say what you want.”

“Aren’t you embarrassed, being a grown adult?”

“Fuck you.”

Tama-san, looking smug as if he’s made up his mind, and the master, who seems exasperated, continue their conversation without noticing me. I must’ve opened the door too quietly.

The conversation is intriguing, but I feel guilty eavesdropping so blatantly.

“Good evening, Master.”

“Kurumi-chan? …Oh, it’s already this late?”

The master glances at her watch. She sounds as if she’s forgotten that time moves forward.

I look outside through the open door. The shop’s lights are off, and the sign on the door hasn’t been flipped to “Open.”

It seems they haven’t started preparing to open. It’s already been thirty minutes since opening time, so I must’ve walked in without realizing.

“…Sorry, I thought you were already open.”

“Don’t worry about it. I just forgot to open the shop.”

Her kind words reassure me, so I head to my usual spot without hesitation.

“Good evening, Tama-san.”

“Good evening.”

When I smile at him, Tama-san smiles back, his lips relaxed. Once again, I’m completely smitten.

Without me ordering, my first drink, a Gin Fizz, is placed in front of me. I clink glasses with Tama-san, and we start with some small talk.

“It’s already December. It doesn’t feel real.”

“You mean how fast the year has gone by?”

“There’s less than a month left until the year ends. Has time always flown by this quickly?”

“If you’re saying that now, you’re in for a rough ride. Time only moves faster from here.”

“It’s going to get even faster…? Is that what it means to grow up?”

“For better or worse. But unfortunately, time never speeds up when you’re doing something you hate.”

Tama-san shakes his shoulders, looking exasperated but also playful.

I laugh because I know he’s talking about work.

“Time flies when you’re doing something you love, but it drags when you’re doing something you hate. What’s up with that phenomenon?”

“It’s the punishment for the sins of our ancestors.”

“Punishment?”

“Because they broke the one rule they were given, they were punished by having to work and sweat to eat. Sweating means enduring hardship and suffering. If that time flew by, it wouldn’t be much of a punishment.”

I tilt my head at Tama-san’s grand explanation. Not nodding, but tilting it sideways.

“Who imposed such a grand punishment?”

“The one who delivers punishment hasn’t changed, from ancient times to now.”

Tama-san smirks sarcastically and points his index finger upward.

“Society.”

He points his finger toward the ceiling.

Just as I’m about to tilt my head again, I realize what he means.

He’s referring to God. And our ancestors are Adam and Eve.

To explain my casual question about the nature of time, he’s brought up the Book of Genesis.

“That sin has never been forgiven, and the punishment continues. The sin of defying society’s control was that heavy.”

“What did people gain from such a heavy punishment?”

“A life of worrying about others’ opinions and the art of shifting responsibility. They didn’t become wise—just cunning. Exactly what the serpent tempted them with.”

Tama-san snorts, amused.

“Society wasn’t angry because they defied it. It was afraid. If lawlessness continued, it would become the law. So it punished those who threatened its position, ensuring they could never live freely.”

“Looking at it that way, they sound pretty arrogant.”

“They’re not just arrogant. They monopolize the management of order and refuse to share it. It’s practically a dictatorship. No wonder the opposition is so eager to criticize the current regime.”

“You mean, ‘Think about others’ pain’?”

“No, it’s more like, ‘I’m jealous, I’m envious. I won’t let you hog all the sweet stuff.’”

I burst out laughing, covering my mouth. It wasn’t just what he said—Tama-san’s half-serious, half-mocking expression was hilarious.

“That’s the society run by those arrogant people. So when we suffer, it’s fine to blame our parents and society.”

As if that’s all he wanted to say from the beginning, Tama-san wrapped up his speech casually. After dragging out such a grand topic, he concluded with, “The world’s like that, so just blame others and move on.”

Tama-san often says things like, “It’s fine to blame your parents and society.” But there’s no anger or hatred in his tone. He knows that wasting time and energy on things you can’t change only tires you out. He’s reached a point of acceptance—life is just like that.

Once again, Tama-san proves he’s different from the other adults who are always worried about how others see them. This moment reaffirms that, and I can’t help but sigh like a lovestruck girl as I glance at his profile.

My feelings for Tama-san only grow stronger. And with that, the fear that this love might never be realized also grows.

But I can’t stay like this forever.

I don’t want to keep treading water.

I made up my mind long before opening this door.

“By the way, Tama-san, are you working on Christmas?”

Steeling myself, I brought up the main topic.

Asking about someone’s Christmas plans is an easy way to convey your intentions. The abruptness of my question might have already communicated, I want to spend that day with you.

Tama-san’s cheeks relaxed as he replied,

“No, I took the day off for Christmas.”

He spoke of a future already set in stone. His expression showed no surprise at my question, nor did it seem like he’d sensed my feelings.

Though I’m blindly in love, I don’t believe there’s any hidden meaning like, I took the day off for you.

My hopes were dashed immediately.

I was about to feel down, but I reminded myself there’s still hope.

Maybe he took the day off for friends, family, or some event—

“Not just the day itself, but I managed to get two days off in a row. Now I can fully commit to six hours of that.”

The comfort I’d been trying to give myself was swiftly cut down.

“Tama, that’s sexual harassment.”

“Ah.”

Tama-san, scolded by the master, quickly covered his mouth. He glanced at me sideways, worried he might have made me uncomfortable, but also embarrassed at having slipped up.

A slip of the tongue that could be considered harassment. I knew Tama-san was always careful about such things.

He must have been so excited that it just slipped out.

Six hours of that.

I’m not so innocent that I don’t understand what he means.

“T-Tama-san… do you have… a girlfriend?”

I stammered, my voice breaking.

My stiff expression might have looked like I was holding back discomfort over his slip-up. A man like Tama-san would immediately look apologetic.

“A girlfriend…?”

Even though I was convinced, Tama-san looked puzzled. As if he was wondering, What even is a girlfriend?

“Now that I think about it… what exactly is our relationship?”

Ignoring me, Tama-san began talking to himself, completely lost in his own world.

Six hours of that. It goes without saying what happens during that time. Generally, you’d spend it with a spouse or lover. Society doesn’t consider it proper to do so with anyone else, deeming it immoral.

Tama-san is single. He’s not saying he’s spending it with a girlfriend. But it doesn’t seem like he’s planning to visit a professional establishment either. And the way he’s talking to himself makes it hard to believe it’s just a casual fling.

Who could the other person be?

Just as I was about to ask,

“Tama, you’ve had too much to drink today.”

The master chided him gently.

“Before you say something you’ll regret, maybe it’s best to call it a night.”

Her tone was as casual as commenting on the weather.

Tama-san looked startled for a moment, then scratched the back of his head. He didn’t seem particularly embarrassed—just accepting the master’s advice.

“Can’t argue with Gami. I’ll take my leave for tonight.”

In the blink of an eye, Tama-san threw on his coat and left.

The glance he gave the master as he left seemed like a silent thank-you for her discretion.

I sat there, stunned, unable to take my eyes off the spot where Tama-san had been.

“Kurumi-chan.”

If the master hadn’t called my name, I might have stayed like that forever.

“This will be the last time you come early on a Friday.”

Her tone was as casual as forecasting the weather. It was so matter-of-fact that I almost nodded and said, Understood, I’ll do that.

“Why?”

I stared at her, wide-eyed. It was like being told to bring an umbrella on a sunny day—anyone would be confused.

“Do you want to know?”

“Huh?”

“Who Tama is spending Christmas with?”

The master’s gaze was direct, as if testing my resolve. It felt like she was saying, If you can’t handle this, you’re not ready.

My hesitation wasn’t due to doubt—it was the time I needed to steel myself.

After swallowing hard, I spoke.

“…Yes.”

“The one who said, ‘If we fall, we’ll fall together.’ That’s the girl he’s carrying on his back.”

The master delivered the answer plainly.

If we fall, we’ll fall together.

As a girl in love, hearing such a romantic line would normally make me swoon. If a future like Romeo and Juliet’s awaited, I’d give everything without hesitation.

…Except, those words weren’t spoken to me.

The meaning was clear without needing to be said.

“Kurumi-chan, you really have no luck with men.”

The master gave a sympathetic, bitter smile.

“Of all people, you had to fall for Tama.”

The love I’ve harbored—though the master never brought it up before, she’s known all along.

I’ve told her all about my romantic history, my dark past.

This was supposed to be my fifth chance at love, my first time falling for someone decent. But Tama-san already has someone. My newfound love has been crushed before it could even begin, and the master pities me for it.

“If you’d ended up with a guy like that, your bright future would’ve been ruined. Thankfully, two good-for-nothing people found each other, so that won’t happen… In a way, Kurumi-chan, you were saved by that girl.”

Her amused expression told me it wasn’t a joke.

A guy like that.

Two good-for-nothing people.

My love for Tama-san isn’t my fifth chance at something real. This time, I drew another losing ticket. The master was saying that my dark history was about to gain another chapter.

“Tama-san… is a good-for-nothing?”

The expression felt so out of place for Tama-san that I could only stare in confusion.

“…I’m surprised. Even after seeing how worthless he is, you still hadn’t noticed?”

Master’s wide-eyed disbelief was as if she’d seen an alien—no, knowing Master, even that wouldn’t faze her. So her shock must have been from witnessing something truly unthinkable.

“Given how it started, I could chalk up your feelings for Tama as an accident… but even Stockholm syndrome isn’t this bad.”

Resting her chin on her hand, Master leaned in to scrutinize my face.

“They say love is blind, but I didn’t think it could be this bad.”

“I-Is it really that bad?”

“I thought you were drawn to him like a girl falling for a delinquent. You know, finding charm in his flaws, unlike those goody-two-shoes types.”

“Flaws…?”

I was stunned, as if I’d been shown a completely different set of values.

“Tama is a thoroughly worthless adult. Even if you combined all of Kurumi-chan’s romantic history and past embarrassments, they wouldn’t hold a candle to him.”

Master spoke as if imparting a universal truth.

I opened my mouth to protest, but no sound came out.

My romantic history, my past embarrassments—even if you added them all up, they wouldn’t come close to Tama-san.

It’s been six months. Even if it’s only once a week, I’ve spent nearly half a year observing Tama-san. We’ve exchanged so many words. No matter how much I reflect, I can’t find a single flaw in him. The way he speaks his mind without sugarcoating things has a unique charm that sets him apart.

Yet Master described Tama-san as someone who had shown his worthless side.

Love is blind.

I thought, for the first time, I’d finally found a proper love.

“Tama has dragged down thousands of people, ruined hundreds of lives…”

But in the end, it’s no different from before.

“He’s the kind of man who drives people to their deaths and laughs, saying, ‘Serves you right.’”

I was told that my obsessive favoritism had blinded me to the truth.