Chapter 61: German Orthopaedics (2)

Chapter 61: Square 55: This Time, That Hand

"Excuse me, could I get twenty tomatoes?"

"Sure thing, thanks as always!"

I was buying tomatoes at a produce stand near the plaza. For Shiran, or to put it bluntly, for bait. But if it meant keeping her safe, I had no issue with dirty tactics.

"That’s a fair amount, you good carrying it?"

"Yeah, I’ve got a carriage."

Giving a small nod, I loaded the paper bag full of tomatoes into the carriage. To hold off my own hunger, I took a bite of one and set off.

The moment I reached the plaza, I spotted her instantly. Shiran’s white hair really did stand out. No one else seemed to be around today, she sat alone, staring off into the distance. Positioning myself somewhere in her line of sight, I started eating a tomato with obvious exaggeration.

"...Tomato."

Her gaze switched over to me immediately. Such an easy kid to read.

"...Want one?"

At my words, she nodded and rushed right over. Shiran dug through the bag without hesitation, picked a large tomato, and bit right in.

"Good?"

"Yeah, thanks, tomato mister."

Shiran gave a small smile. I thought it was just from getting the tomato, but that didn’t seem quite right. Some kids around her age were loitering nearby. Probably staying away from her because I was there.

"Is tomato mister a bad person? A good person?"

Shiran occasionally asked strange things like this. Not many people would call themselves a bad person here, probably.

"...I think I’m a good person? I mean, I’m out here giving people tomatoes."

"I see."

We’d talked plenty of times already, but I still couldn’t quite read her. Shiran just kept eating tomatoes quietly.

"You’ve got some on your mouth."

"Ah, thanks."

Taking my handkerchief, she wiped her mouth and tucked it into her pocket.

"...I’ll wash it and give it back."

"Don’t worry about that kind of thing."

Taking the handkerchief back from her, I folded it and put it in my bag. Then Shiran got off the bench and started walking.

"...Tomato mister, come here for a sec."

"Huh? Why?"

"Just come."

"O-okay."

Carrying the large stash of tomatoes, I followed Shiran.

"...Here."

Shiran pointed at a shop selling fish food.

"Ah, right, there’s a pond right there... makes sense a shop like this would exist."

Stepping inside, unfamiliar and strange items lined the shelves. I’d seen koi food before, but everything here looked and sounded bizarre. And there was an oddly overwhelming variety of feed types.

"Redefisher food, Rondscissor food, Moo-moo shrimp food... nope, can’t even imagine what these fish look like."

"Tomato mister, this!"

Shiran’s expression stayed as blank as ever, but her movements seemed a bit sharper than usual. Probably excited underneath it all.

"Hm? Which one?"

"This, this one."

The tag she pointed at read "Pumpkin Fish Food." A pumpkin fish? Sounds like something out of Halloween.

"Is this fish rare or something?"

At my question, Shiran shook her head firmly.

"Regular fish, but it’s shaped funny."

"I see, got it. Hold on a sec."

I told the clerk and bought food for two people. Each portion cost a somewhat steep 1200 yen, no wonder kids couldn’t afford it themselves.

"You’re slow, hurry up."

"Well, you’re running."

Carrying the tomatoes, I hurried after Shiran on foot. But Shiran seemed to be sprinting at full speed, and I couldn’t keep up. In the end, she reached the pond first, shrinking to matchstick size in the distance.

"Tomato mister, faster."

"I’m coming, just wait."

Completely at her mercy at this point.

"Can I scatter the food?"

Fully prepared at the pond’s edge, Shiran asked with eyes shining. ...What would happen if I said no? The thought briefly crossed my mind, but I wasn’t cruel enough to actually do that.

"Go ahead, use as much as you want."

Watching Shiran innocently scatter the food, watching the fish gulp it down eagerly, felt strangely like watching over your own child. In the end, I completely forgot how rushed I’d been, and spent the whole afternoon playing with Shiran until evening. Worn out from playing, we sat leisurely on a bench, finishing off the last of the tomatoes.

"Here, the last one."

I pulled a tomato with a dried-out stem from the bottom of the bag. Shiran accepted it happily and bit in with a wide open mouth. Even at this hour, other kids kept glancing our way, wary of her. Worried for Shiran, I offered a suggestion.

"Want me to drop you home? I’ve got a carriage parked nearby."

Finishing her tomato and wiping her mouth, Shiran reacted to the word "carriage."

"...Is tomato mister rich?"

"Well, right now, I guess so."

I glanced briefly at my bag.

"...Never mind, then."

Shiran looked somewhat disappointed and got up from the bench. Given her father’s high status, maybe she harbored some kind of distaste for the wealthy or nobility? If so, that comment might have been a mistake.

"Hey, tomato mister."

"Hm?"

"...Never mind. Nothing."

Saying that, Shiran started to run off. Her expression looked, somehow, like she was about to cry.

...I’d seen this scene before, somewhere. Something similar had happened back in the very first timeline where I’d met Shiran. I remembered, clearly, regretting it back then. Wondering if things might’ve turned out differently, if I’d just taken her hand at that moment. This time, I didn’t hesitate.

"Shiran!"

My hand reached out and grabbed hers directly. Turning back, her face looked deeply sad, but somehow also relieved. I gently patted her small head, the way a parent might. ℯℯ𝑙.

"You don’t have to hide it. You don’t have to run. It’s okay, don’t worry."

"...Hey, mister."

"Yeah."

"...Help me."

"Of course!"

This might just be a small step. But it’s a certain one. I made my resolve firm. This time, I will break through everything trying to bring Shiran down!

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