kscans

Chapter 891 - Perceived Temperature

In this day and age, it’s probably not all that rare to find someone who’s never been to the ocean, or even to an amusement facility like a pool.

I myself have seen the ocean a few times, but I have no memories of ever touching the water to go swimming. The trauma from the accident when I was five is part of it, but even without that, my personality is such that I probably never would have gone anyway.

Even during our trip in June, I went fishing but didn't touch the water at all.

So, yes. If there had been someone else with little to no experience playing at the beach or a pool, I probably would have just thought, ‘Hey, a kindred spirit,’ and not been too surprised—

“Wait, are you serious?”

“…Y-Yes, I’m serious.”

I suppose that kind of behavior requires a ‘talent’ that introverts lack, but as the three of them enjoyed themselves in the lake, each at their own level of excitement, two of us remained on the shore, watching.

On a makeshift blanket I’d fashioned from some nearby plants. I, for one, couldn’t bring myself to join in the water fun surrounded by girls, but next to me, the indigo girl was also sitting with her knees hugged to her chest.

Since she was good friends with all three of them, I had assumed she would naturally join in, but thirty seconds ago, I had asked Nia, who remained on the shore looking troubled, ‘Why?’

And her answer, well, it was honestly surprising.

“S-So that’s why… I’m a little, unexpectedly, seriously, um…”

Because this girl, far from it being her first time playing in the water—

“I’m… …………………………embarrassed…”

“R-Right… that’s tough…”

Apparently, this was her first time ever wearing a swimsuit.

In many ways, it wasn’t just me, but being seen by other girls was also apparently quite, very, extremely embarrassing for her. There’s a difference between men and women, but even with the same gender, showing skin you normally wouldn’t can be met with resistance depending on the person. I can kind of understand the feeling.

Especially if it’s your first time ever in a swimsuit. She had been acting a little strange ever since the topic of the lake, swimsuits, and a vacation came up, and it seems this was the reason.

That explains it. And next came questions and curiosity.

“Um… what about, like, school classes?”

It’s a bit late to be realizing this, but I know almost nothing about the real Nia. All I know is the rough outline of her circumstances that I learned through a series of events: the only daughter of a pair of artists, a young lady from a frigid country who came to Japan for various reasons.

As for her past, I’m completely in the dark.

Because of that, I have almost no basis for judging whether a topic is okay to ask about or should be avoided. So, I watched her carefully as I cautiously phrased my question…

“I can’t really say I… ‘attended school normally’…”

“Huh…?”

It seemed difficult for her to say—but, having spent so much time with her, I could pick up on the subtle nuances in her voice.

This is probably an okay topic.

““………………””

Her indigo eyes glanced my way, and our gazes met.

In other words, what our eyes reflected was each other’s form. Which meant that what was spreading across my vision was the swimsuit-clad figure of the “special girl” who had been occupying my thoughts almost daily.

I was in no position to tease Nia, who was still blushing from embarrassment.

“…That’s rare. You asking about me.”

“Well, I mean, it seems like a natural part of the conversation…”

I looked away.

And yet, even though we both turned to face forward again… why was it that what our eyes were still focused on was not our friends playing in the lake, but each other?

“I’d be happy if you just straightforwardly said you were ‘curious’ or ‘wanted to know.’”

“……………Well, I am… normally, interested.”

Why is it that, even as we exchange sidelong glances, we can’t look away?

Is she laughing at how lame I am, my words getting all roundabout because I’m embarrassed? Or is she, as she said herself, genuinely happy and pleased?

As she let out a slightly relaxed, “Hehe,” and a still-shy smile… I guess it’s just inevitable that I can’t tear my eyes away from her.

“When I was little, I learned from my mom… not that she was teaching me, but I just naturally started painting, you know? Ah, not like a kid’s doodles.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

And so she began to tell me about herself.

They were clearly being considerate of us, as there was no sign of the other three bothering us for now. It seemed we’d have some time to ourselves, so having a ‘chat’ about something to distract from our mutual embarrassment was probably a good idea.

Besides, my saying I was interested was, at this point, no longer a lie.

“So, um, the finer details would take a while, so I’ll skip them, but I had to take a little more care of my body than most kids, you see? Or rather, I was asked to… you know. I was treated very carefully by everyone around me.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

I don’t know about the events of her past, but I know a little about her circumstances. The daughter of famous artists, and talented herself… though I’m ashamed to admit I don’t know the extent of that ‘talent.’ Still, with just that information, it’s easy enough to infer the rest.

She was cherished.

“So, because of that, yeah. I’ve never once been in what you call a PE class here in Japan.”

“I see. So, you don’t exercise at all…?”

“No, that would be unhealthy, so I did the bare minimum. It was more like stretching than exercise, though. A daily routine with my mom.”

That must have been a heartwarming sight. The image of a little Nia is adorable enough on its own—anyway, it seems her relationship with her parents was, and still is, good, which is great to hear.

“So, that’s how it is…”

And with that, the conversation came full circle.

“Swimsuits… I’ve taken commissions for them and studied them, so ‘making’ them isn’t a problem, but… I never thought I’d end up wearing one myself… So, well, um.”

It was her first time. She wasn’t used to it. And it was all so sudden that she needed to build up her courage.

With that convincing reason, Nia, her expression of embarrassment making me nod in understanding, unconsciously hugged the front of her hoodie as if to protect herself.

Whether she knows that such gestures are what’s truly dangerous, what’s driving my mind completely wild… she sits curled up, shrinking into herself as she glances at the person beside her.

And that person happens to be none other than me.

“……………I wanted you to see, so, I did my best, but…”

Then the one to take the fatal blow would, for better or worse, be me alone.

“………………………………………………You’ve gotta be…”

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again and again.

This girl, she really, plays dirty.

“…, …………—Haaaah… haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah…!”

“Huh? Wh-What, what is it, what’s happening…!”

A big, deep breath.

Why? What am I about to do? That’s obvious. Because she did, didn’t she? If she’s going to honestly confess that she ‘did her best’—

“—”

“Eh, ah…”

Then I, a guy, have to put my all into it and do my best too, or it would be insincere.

So, I look.

Straight at her, without looking away, forcefully ignoring the heat rising to my face that I can no longer pretend not to notice, I turned my eyes to the girl who was bravely staying by my side.

Seriously, with all my soul, as if my life depended on it.

“N-No, wait… st…”

And in an instant, a mirror image. As Nia met my intense gaze with her own, she let out a faint voice, her face turning bright red as she shrank even further into herself.

—But too bad for you. I already completed the ‘memorization’ during our first contact. Even if you fortify your defenses with a hoodie, the necessary materials for my evaluation are already gathered.

Don’t hold it against me. You did your best for this, didn’t you?

“…………………—Alright. Nia.”

“Y-Y-Yes…”

“I’m only going to say this once. No repeats, so listen carefully.”

“Yes…!”

Come on, do it. Let’s go, do it. Embarrassment is just an obstacle to being sincere.

And so, here I go—

“……………………………………You’re, the most, um… —cute.”

“………………—”

I died. Nia froze. A perfectly foreseen future, come to pass.

I don’t care what happens next; someone please collect my bones. Having fulfilled my duty, my heart a complete and utter wreck, I looked up at the sky, resolving not to move a single inch for the next several hours.

And as for the heat that touched the fingertips of the hand I’d thrown out onto the blanket, a product of my pathetic and ultimately uncool state…

I decided to pretend I didn’t notice.

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This is basically summer, isn't it?