Chapter 1

I stood in front of an apartment building in a poverty-stricken district that had the complete trifecta: broken glass, dull walls, and missing light bulbs. With no one to clean up, the street was piled with liquor bottles and some kind of wrappers, caked together by rain and dust.

It was a little before 11:00 AM, the time when residential areas are at their quietest.

I adjusted my grip on my bags and passed through the dim entrance into the apartment building.

Just like the urban slums on Earth, this place used to be a decent residential area within the Moon City until a little while ago. But every time some other district got cleaned up, the people who could no longer afford rent there would settle here, driving down the land value and dignity each time.

However, even if it’s left to ruin now, eventually some sharp-eyed person will notice the cheap land prices, gather capital, and embark on redevelopment. The old apartments and buildings will be torn down, the cheap pubs will become stylish bars, and the friendly general stores selling shampoo and soap on credit will be completely transformed into sterile, modern shopping malls.

In that shiny new place, there is no room for filthy people. Those who couldn’t change themselves at the same speed their living environment changed have no choice but to leave in search of yet another place to live.

It’s the standard pattern since cities were built on the Moon, and perhaps an endless cycle that has continued since humanity first started building cities. Moreover, the cycle seems to be shortening recently, so the people living here will surely be kicked out before long.

Thinking about that, I felt a little gloomy in the hallway, which was even dimmer than the entrance and built purely from chilly limestone rocks.

Leaning on my crutch, I climbed the stairs next to an elevator that hadn’t worked for months, one step at a time. On the Moon, where it was said that even breathing costs money, electricity was the one thing that had been abundant, but even that was starting to fall short due to rapid development.

Things in short supply go up in price, becoming unaffordable starting with the poorest. To save electricity, the lunar city lowered the temperature of the circulated air by more than ten degrees, making mornings and nights much colder compared to four years ago.

It gets quite warm around this time near noon, but it’s a bit chilly if you stay still.

I took a deep breath and headed for my destination on the fourth floor.

And then, around the time the third-floor landing came into view, I heard lively voices coming from the floor above. The voices should be coming from the fourth floor, so judging by this, it must be quite a ruckus.

Along with a feeling akin to a wry smile, I thought to myself that it couldn’t be helped.

Today is just that kind of day.

Even I think it’s a wonderful thing.

“It’s at Mr. Jones’s place at number fourteen! And not just booze, get other drinks too!”

As I was slowly climbing the stairs one by one, I suddenly heard a loud voice that seemed like it might echo throughout the entire apartment building.

But it wasn’t a vulgar shout; to flatter it a bit, it almost sounded like singing.

“I know! I’m not a kid!”

With that reply, a man came running down the stairs, making heavy footsteps. He nimbly turned the corner at the landing, stopped in front of me, and looked surprised—not because we were strangers.

However, since his hairstyle had changed so drastically, even after four years, the sense of incongruity hadn’t quite faded.

“Yo, you finally made it? It’s already started.”

“I can hear it. It’s lively.”

“Well, an occasion this joyous doesn’t happen often.”

Cerault, who had quit that trademark afro and tied back his long hair, came down a few steps and threw his arm around my shoulder.

“But what were you dawdling for? Hurry up and go see her. Don’t keep the star of the show waiting.”

“…”

“Hm? Don’t be shy now.”

“I’m not shy. I was just thinking you haven’t changed a bit since the old days.”

“Hmph? Hahaha. Even with my hair like this, and even though I normally go to work wearing a tie?”

Cerault said this with a smirking grin. Hairstyle aside, he normally doesn’t wear a tie, and he shouldn’t even be commuting to the office much.

However, going from the owner of a shady net cafe on the edge of town to landing a job as a senior engineer at a software company everyone has heard of is certainly a big change. The reason he doesn’t commute is that he works from home enough that he doesn’t need to.

It seems Cerault regretted not being able to help Lisa when she fell into a predicament four years ago.

You can live without money, but if you have it, you can help someone. With that, he quit the afro.

“What about you? Instead of just talking about others, how are things on your end?”

“…Huh?”

“I mean about Lisa.”

At my words, Cerault made a bitter face and twisted his lips.

Perhaps a habit from his afro days, he scratched his head vigorously, straightened up, and let out a massive sigh.

“Adult relationships aren’t that simple, you know.”

Without shrugging or sighing, I waited a single beat before answering.

“I guess not.”

“Acting all cool… Are you saying that thinking you’re an adult yourself?”

“…”

I looked at Cerault in silence, placed my fingers at the corners of my lips, and pushed them up firmly.

A fabricated smile.

Since that day four years ago, my face, just like my left leg, hasn’t moved.

“There’s not a single good thing about becoming an adult,” Cerault said with a sigh.

If I could move my expressions, I surely would have genuinely smiled.

“More importantly, aren’t you in the middle of a grocery run?”

“Ah, that’s right. If there’s anything you want to drink, I’ll buy it. Juice, fitting for a kid?”

“That would actually be a big help.”

“Wha—?”

“I slipped away from work. I have to go back later.”

“…”

Cerault looked as if the wind had been knocked out of his sails and shrugged.

“Workaholic.”

“It sounds nice, but if I don’t work properly, I’ll be kicked out of the dorms and end up having to quit school.”

“Ah, come to think of it, you were a working scholarship student, right? In exchange for working at the government office, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. Thanks to this leg, I’m classified as socially vulnerable. That’s how I managed to slip in.”

Not only my left leg, but my facial expressions don’t move either. It’s not from birth, but since a certain incident four years ago. The doctor says it’s psychological, and I think that back then, an important part inside me must have died.

However, showing damp, sentimental emotions to others isn’t my hobby.

“Anyway, my grades are always right on the edge, so if my work attitude was bad, I would have been cut a long time ago.”

I made a gesture of slitting my throat with my hand and said it exaggeratedly.

“Hmph… Is that how it is? Government offices are always short-staffed, aren’t they?”

“They probably figure if things don’t run smoothly, then they just don’t run smoothly.”

“…”

Cerault thought for a moment and said with dead seriousness:

“That’s the Moon itself.”

“I think it’s good that it’s consistent. And in reality, it is running to some extent.”

“…”

Cerault stared at me in silence for a few seconds.

“You’ve become too much of an adult.”

“Thanks.”

At that single word, Cerault snorted with a “Heh” and went down the stairs.

“You’re really fine with juice, right?”

A voice called out from downstairs, but I didn’t reply.

---

When I climbed the stairs and stepped out onto the fourth-floor corridor, laughter was echoing down the hall. Considering Cerault was already being sent out on a grocery run before noon, things must be getting quite lively. Given the location, they are all good-natured folks, but you couldn’t call their drinking manners refined, even as a compliment. Having to go back to work later wasn’t a lie, but even without that, caution was necessary.

I took off my jacket, draped it over my arm, and took off my tie. The more decently dressed you are, the more likely you are to get messed with. If push comes to shove, I figured I’d make effective use of this paralyzed left leg. If I drop my crutch and slump to the floor, I could probably get out of most situations.

I wasn’t joking; if I didn’t defend myself with that much seriousness, I’d end up being forced to get dead drunk. Bracing myself, I turned the corner of the narrow corridor, and my feet stopped.

There was a figure in the hallway.

“Oh my.”

The person, who had been flapping the hem of her clothes in the hallway to cool off, let out that voice upon noticing me. It was Lisa—the one who took me in when I ran away from home four years ago, and who took great care of me through all the subsequent messes.

That same Lisa was now clad in a black-and-white nun’s habit, somewhat ungracefully flapping the hem of her clothes.

She is always bright and energetic, but today she looked slightly tired, her cheeks flushed red as if with a fever. I was about to point out whether she was drunk, but decided against it. Drunks either get indignant or delighted when you point it out, and either way, it becomes a hassle.

Still, it’s very rare for Lisa, who always devotes herself to playing the host at times like this, to be drunk. She must be truly happy about today’s event.

“You’re late. I thought you’d forgotten.”

“I didn’t forget. I was swamped with work, so I had to show my face at the office for a bit.”

“Oh, really? Well, that’s fine. Everyone’s been waiting for you.”

“Was I supposed to be bringing some good booze as a gift?”

When I said that, Lisa looked blank for a moment, then laughed and patted my shoulder.

“You’ve started talking with such a cheeky tone.”

“Would it have been better if I kept talking like a punk?”

“Hm? Well…”

Lisa, who four years ago would complain about my speech being dirty or vulgar at every turn, thought about it seriously.

“Right… maybe you were cuter in the old days…”

“…”

I pushed up my unmoving mouth with my fingers, making a fake smile.

Lisa chuckled again and rested her hand on my head.

“But, I like the current Hal too, you know?”

“Go say those words to Cerault.”

At my words, Lisa stopped dead in her tracks, her face returning to complete sobriety.

“You shouldn’t tease adults.”

“Cerault said the exact same thing.”

“Ugh… Mmm…”

Lisa tried to say something back, but perhaps due to being tipsy, her head didn’t seem to be working well.

Tapping her head lightly as if suppressing a headache, she puffed out her chest and said, “Anyway.”

“Hurry up and go inside. The star of the show has been waiting ages for you.”

“…Does that not count as teasing?”

“I’m not teasing you at all. Besides, as a good servant of God and a good older sister, I can’t bear to watch that girl looking so restless all day.”

It wasn’t clear if she was being more direct than usual because of the alcohol, or if she was just trying to use being drunk as an excuse. However, I knew what she wanted to say, and truth be told, I knew it without being told. Even so, my steps didn’t become any lighter.

“Well, I know everyone has their own circumstances. But today is a celebration. Right?”

Lisa’s smile could truly express a variety of emotions skillfully. Right now, it was the smile of an understanding, kind older sister from the neighborhood. Without even sighing, I merely gave a small shrug.

“So, you brought a present, right?”

That single line alone was delivered with a terribly scary face.

“I’m not that clueless.”

“Hmph.”

Lisa nodded with the look of an examiner and pointed down the hall as if to say, Then go on.

“What about you, Lisa?”

“I’m going to cool down a bit more. More people will probably show up toward the evening. I need to conserve my strength.”

“…Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“Oh?”

“Because you’re not young anymore.”

“Gkh!”

Running away from the fist Lisa raised with wide eyes, I started walking. Laughter and shouts, accompanied by toasts, constantly spilled out into the hallway.

I arrived just before the wide-open door. On the wall hung a sign that read “22nd Street Church.” Four years ago, Lisa managed a different church. She was kicked out of there, returned to Earth, wandered around, and finally came back, somehow settling down here. I haven’t heard the details, but it seems she went through a lot of hardships.

Whenever I think about that, my chest still hurts.

Lisa would never say so, but her having to let go of that church, sell off the rare books she treasured above all else, and end up in a place like this was all my fault.

Moreover, the star of today’s banquet was someone who had been right beside me during the disaster I caused—a victim, so to speak.

That’s why I had been agonizing over what kind of face I should make while attending this celebration, right up until this morning.

The fortunate thing was that my face didn’t move regardless of my emotions. That, and the meddlesome duo of Lisa and Cerault both pushing my back, telling me to “Hurry up and go.”

I took a deep breath and steeled my resolve. Four years ago, I lost sight of what was truly important. Therefore, I kept telling myself that I must cherish it this time.

I took a step forward in front of the open door. It wasn’t a very large room, so there was a straight line of sight from the living room to the hallway. And, as if on cue, she was standing right at the end of my gaze.

Four years ago, many things happened. But she never once blamed me. Even though, by all rights, I should have had to make any kind of amends necessary.

She had grown a little taller and more mature than four years ago, on the verge of shedding her skin from a girl to a young woman. That instability might have been because she was truly anxious. That I might not come—even though such a ridiculous thing could never happen.

When she realized I wasn’t an illusion or a ghost, she smiled a smile that looked like she was about to cry.

Since that day four years ago, many other things have happened. I was helped, and I should have helped her a fair amount in return, but I don’t think that makes up for my sins.

That is exactly why I came here.

“Congratulations on getting into college.”

Saying that, I handed the congratulatory gift to the tousled blonde-haired Chris.

The banquet began to get out of hand before noon.

Saying things like “We usually have so many gloomy topics to talk about, so we just get too carried away” is absolutely an excuse. Someone brought out an instrument, people gathered drawn by the liveliness, and in the blink of an eye, the 22nd Street Church was overflowing with drunks.

In that atmosphere, turning down a drink would be difficult even for a nursing infant.

However, when things are that lively, no one notices if one or two guests disappear.

After drinking three glasses of beer that I couldn’t escape despite my resistance, I took refuge on the stairs leading to the apartment roof. Since I’m not used to drinking, my head was numb and I felt a little short of breath. Leaning my head against the cool, sunless limestone wall of the dim staircase felt pleasant.

Chris getting into college is truly a cause for celebration, and I can somewhat understand why the folks in this area are making such a huge fuss over it. Even on the Moon, where it’s not uncommon for someone starting with nothing to suddenly achieve massive success, it only looks that way because there are so many challengers. The reality that the probability of success might not be any different from Earth—or perhaps even lower—is slowly infecting the lunar world like a disease. Eventually, many residents look up at Newton City, where skyscrapers tower like some kind of crystals, and surrender their bodies to the paralysis of resignation.

However, even among them, there are rare individuals who never give up.

The kind of person who, when her fingers swell up so much she can’t hold a pen, grips it with her non-dominant hand, studies fiercely, and finally passes the entrance exam for Moon City University, skipping grades and as an honors scholarship student, no less.

She was surely a hard worker since she was little, but her final year was intense even to watch from the sidelines. Part of the reason for her hard work was probably that her only blood relative, her biological father, returned to Earth, working at a harsh ore extraction site to earn living expenses and pay off debts.

Still, just because there’s pressure doesn’t mean a person can always work hard.

Chris didn’t break. She didn’t tire. She didn’t slack off. She was genuinely an amazing person.

She was completely different from me, who became paralyzed because the psychological shock was too great since that day four years ago. Back then, I was always somewhere deserted, leaning my head against a wall and spacing out.

Such a life continued for weeks, and looking back now, I think I was practically an invalid.

It wasn’t that I was repeatedly regretting or agonizing. In fact, if I had had that kind of stimulation, it would have been better. Like a disconnected wire or a dead battery, I couldn’t do anything.

During that time, the one who came to visit me, talked to me, and slowly pulled me back up into reality was Chris. Of course, I wasn’t that close to Chris at the time, so I heard later that Lisa had orchestrated her coming to my house.

That’s why Chris would always come on tiptoe, timidly peeking in and showing just a little bit of her face. The first time blood returned to my heart was when I almost gave a wry smile, thinking, If she’s that scared, she doesn’t have to come.

Keeping my heavy, alcohol-fogged head leaning against the wall, I could picture Chris’s peeking blue eyes as if they were right there.

Poking her face out slightly from the corner of the hallway, looking around nervously with rabbit-like eyes behind large, round glasses. Her tousled blonde hair is the same as ever; the only things that have changed are probably her height and a bit of her figure.

I gazed unreservedly at the Chris in my memory.

While flinching under my gaze, she looked around as usual before coming over to my side. She was hugging a familiar paper bag to her chest.

And finally, I realized that this was the real Chris.

“So this is where you were.”

That troubled smile apparently doesn’t cure itself even after getting into college.

I wanted to firmly straighten her back, which tends to hunch, and tell her to have more confidence.

“…Shouldn’t you be down there? You’re the star of the show.”

“The alcohol seems to be the star.”

It wasn’t self-deprecation or sulking; it was probably just a fact based on a close observation of the situation in that room.

When I offered the spot next to me with my hand, Chris smiled a little shyly before sitting down beside me.

“What were you thinking about?”

For the past four years, it was always Chris who initiated the conversation.

“You looked completely spaced out.”

“The past.”

“The past?”

“About the time when you started coming to see me.”

When I said that without hiding a single piece, Chris blinked her eyes behind her glasses, and then, unusually for her, showed a terribly mature smile.

“…You’re mean.”

“Mean?”

“Yes. Because…”

Chris said this, her expression turning into an obvious wry smile.

“At that time, I only started coming because Lisa-san told me to.”

“Ah…? Well, that’s true, but…”

“It is.”

I didn’t quite understand the true intent behind Chris nodding so forcefully.

“Yeah… But, you know.”

“Eh?”

“At first, you really were just coming.”

“Ugh… w-well, that’s because my living situation changed, and there was the thing with my dad, and my head was just spinning… wait, that’s not it.”

“Hm?”

“I’m saying, Hal-san, it’s mean of you to say things like that.”

“…Uhh…”

Thanks to the alcohol, my head wasn’t working well.

“Hal-san, did you come here today because someone told you to?”

“Gkh…”

Chris, who had been timid, scared, and keeping her head down like a small animal, was staring intently at me with blue eyes that held a hidden dignity.

Just as Lisa said I had changed, Chris, too, was becoming an adult.

“Partly, yes.”

When I answered, Chris made a foolishly honest, hurt face, but the truth is the truth.

However, there are several kinds of truth.

“But, back then, even if you came reluctantly because Lisa told you to, I’m still grateful for it to this day.”

“…”

Chris looked at me with doubtful eyes for a while.

As I met her gaze head-on, Chris gave in and said with an exasperated smile:

“Then, I’ll be grateful too.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Chris giggled, took a small deep breath, and continued.

“More importantly, Hal-san.”

“Yes.”

When I replied playfully using polite speech, Chris made a very happy, yet displeased face.

Chris is the type who gets happy when teased, so I end up teasing her without thinking.

“Please don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not making fun of you. What is it?”

“It’s about the present… can I open it?”

Come to think of it, my gaze went to Chris’s chest. I have this image of Chris always hugging something like a girl who just woke up, and even now she was holding the paper bag carefully.

I looked back and forth between the paper bag and Chris’s face once before answering.

“Of course, go ahead?”

“Ehehe…”

Chris looked truly happy as she opened the paper bag while saying that.

I think the first thing I ever gave Chris was a giant meat bun from the lady who sells steamed buns. Back then, Chris was as guarded as a stray cat taking food from a human for the first time.

Of course, I wouldn’t laugh at that. When people shorten the distance between them, it’s something akin to a miracle. That’s why, if the distance is shortened and they trust each other, people might allow the other person things they never imagined before.

Holding hands with Hagana, sleeping in the same bed, thinking of her as the most important person in this world—when I first met Hagana, I couldn’t have imagined any of that.

That is precisely why it’s also easy to use that trust against someone and trap them.

Four years ago, I wasn’t used to trusting people. Not only was I not used to it, I was a kid who didn’t even know who to trust. I will surely never forget the name of that man, Burton, for the rest of my life.

However, what I did to Hagana back then was on a different level from what Burton did to me. It was much baser, much more pathetic.

At the absolute limit, the critical moment, I brushed away Hagana’s hand.

The reason was simple. Because I was scared.

I still remember the sensation of her hand from that time. Whenever I remember it, the right half of my hand starts throbbing as if numb. Not metaphorically, but truly throbbing.

The reason my body doesn’t move is psychological, and this was the same thing. The saying “illness comes from the mind” is true. When your thoughts are hijacked, it manifests directly in your body.

“Ghh…”

I tried to extinguish the throbbing in my right hand, but it didn’t work. In psychology, there is a famous phrase: Don’t think about a polar bear. When told not to think about a polar bear, it’s difficult not to think about it. I tried to banish Hagana from my mind, and the more I tried, the more I remembered her.

Her sharp glare, her all-black outfit, and the innocent smile she occasionally showed—she was truly cute. I was the one who brushed that away, with this right hand.

As I tried to hide the trembling of my right hand, the more I tensed up, the stiffer it became, like a wooden stick. From my hand to my wrist, from my wrist to my elbow, from my elbow to my shoulder, and just as my throat constricted with the terror that my entire body was about to freeze up, something warm touched my hand.

“…!”

Startled, I snapped my gaze over to see Chris reaching out, holding my right hand.

“It’s okay. Back then, Hal-san, that was your limit. And we had no choice but to rely on that Hal-san.”

From behind round glasses completely devoid of design, built solely for practicality, Chris’s blue eyes looked at me. Beautiful blue eyes supported by unwavering confidence, without a hint of fear or hesitation.

Captivated by those eyes, I felt the negative spiral stop and slowly begin to reverse.

Over the past few years, Chris has stopped symptoms resembling seizures for me many times.

To banish Hagana from my mind, the shortest path was to think only about what was right in front of me.

Chris’s soft hand firmly pinned me to reality when I was about to be swallowed by the past.

“Have you calmed down?”

The smile of Chris asking that somehow always looked as if Chris herself had been saved from a predicament. Even though I’m the one being helped, there’s something slightly mysterious about Chris.

“Yeah… I seem… okay.”

“The alcohol might not have been a good idea.”

“…”

Feeling pathetic that I had to have her stop another attack, yet simultaneously grateful, I blurted this out without thinking:

“No, it’s your fault, Chris.”

“Eh?”

“You looked so happy opening the bag, it reminded me of when I gave you that steamed bun. Even though it’s bad for me to remember the past.”

Chris stared at me blankly for a moment, then crumpled her face into something like a laughing cry. I sometimes want to reach out and touch that face of hers.

I know it’s a simple male reaction to fall for someone who helps you when you’re weak. But I also know Chris has feelings for me. It’s only natural that Lisa and Cerault tease us.

Actually, rather than teasing, they are pestering us to reach a conclusion quickly.

Of course, Chris is a good girl. A very good girl.

Despite that, there’s something inside me trying to stop my hand, and Chris has noticed it too. Moreover, neither of us has been able to bring it up clearly.

It felt very unhealthy, but neither of us dared to cross that line.

So, I made an effort to speak calmly.

“However, for the Chris who gets happy over a steamed bun, this might not be a very pleasing present.”

“Ehh… what is that supposed to mean…?”

While saying that, Chris rummaged inside the paper bag and pulled out the contents as if suddenly remembering. Seeing her face when she pulled it out, I was slightly thankful that my face didn’t move.

Otherwise, I surely would have smiled so meanly that even the tolerant Chris would have gotten angry.

“…A-A brush?”

“High-quality goods made with boar bristles. Imported from Earth.”

“Boar—eh, ah…”

“It means you should comb your hair a bit and clean yourself up.”

I took the brush from Chris’s hand and applied it to her bird’s-nest-like blonde hair. Chris seriously pulled back and ran away, so I couldn’t brush it, but her face had turned bright red, so I didn’t pursue her too deeply.

The handle of the brush in my hand had a picture of a bird on it, seemingly designed for girls. I stroked the bristles a bit with my finger, then casually tossed it toward Chris, who had her back pressed against the wall.

“Instead of tearing your hair out studying, you should just rub your head with that brush.”

“Uuu…”

Casting a sideways glance at the groaning Chris, I faced forward again and used my fingers to pull up the corners of my mouth.

I will probably have to clarify my feelings with Chris someday, but right now, I didn’t want to change this relationship.

When I grabbed my crutch and stood up, Chris reflexively tried to lend a hand.

When I stood up first, Chris looked anxious.

It’s not that I don’t have the option to accept Chris’s goodwill and lean on her shoulder without hesitation. But the current me cannot make such a decision. I wanted a little more time. Time to settle the many things that had become far too complexly intertwined and tightly knotted.

Instead of looking at Chris’s face, I looked at the brush in my hand and said:

“Well, it’s just like me.”

“Eh?”

“That messy hair of yours, you just have to comb it out little by little.”

“Ugh.”

“Isn’t that what you always do when solving difficult problems?”

Those were the words Chris had told me many times until I became able to move my body this much.

Having her own words used against her, Chris choked on her response, then nodded as if giving up.

“It’s… naturally wavy.”

“Haha.”

I laughed artificially, using just my voice, and pulled up the corners of my mouth with my fingers.

Chris looked at me reproachfully but said shortly:

“I’ll take good care of it.”

“Yeah.”

I said that and checked the time on my mobile terminal.

“I should get back to work soon.”

“Eh.”

“You guys are going to be at it until midnight anyway, right? I’ll come back again. Lisa will be noisy if I don’t.”

“Will you not come unless Lisa-san tells you to?”

Chris stared at me intently. You wouldn’t need to recall the story of Newton’s apple; her presence was enough to make you conscious of gravity. The story of Newton’s apple is apparently a fabrication, but I think he must have truly conceived of gravity from the power of people drawing each other in.

As if escaping Chris’s gravitational pull, I started walking.

“Don’t be mean. My left leg doesn’t work, you know.”

Saying I wouldn’t come unless Lisa told me to is about 70% true. It’s still painful to show my face in front of the people whose lives drastically changed four years ago because of me.

But if it weren’t for that incident four years ago, I wouldn’t have become as close to Chris as I am now, so I deeply feel how ironic the world is.

“Please come.”

To Chris’s slightly accusing words, I am surely obligated to answer like this:

“I’ll come.”

“Jeez!”

Chris sounded indignant, but she didn’t forcibly chase after me. Rather than being considerate of me, it seemed Chris herself was hesitating, unsure if she should step closer.

She seems to have grown up, but a person’s roots don’t change that easily. She must have been restless and flustered the day before her university entrance exams, barely sleeping.

She’s good at building things step by steady step, but taking a bold leap seems to be her weak point.

Then, what about me?

I stepped outside the dim, run-down apartment building where joyful voices echoed, and let out a small sigh.

A person’s roots don’t change.

Except, that is, when the roots rot.

Leaning on my crutch, I started walking, dragging my leg.

I can’t take a steady step, nor can I take a bold one.

Paralysis and inertia are more common than a cold.

Driving them away was very, very difficult.

---

Moon City College of Humanities and Sciences, Faculty of Law, Department of Legal Studies, Second Division.

That’s the name of the university and faculty I luckily managed to slip into a year ago. The Second Division means correspondence courses, so I’ve never actually been to the campus.

It’s apparently located in Newton City, near Moon City University, which continuously produces humanity’s greatest minds, but I don’t even think about going there. After all, it’s just a place where the children of wealthy Earth immigrants gather and make noise.

Due to population growth and the increase in school-aged people coming to the Moon, educational institutions were popping up left and right. If it weren’t for that, there’s no way someone like me, who barely finished primary education, could have slipped in.

Of course, I put in my own effort, and I had two people who attended Moon City University acting as my tutors, so I owe it to them as well. Lisa studied religious history at Moon City University, and Cerault held a doctorate in engineering from an even higher level there. If I had hired tutors through an agency, I would have been billed an outrageous amount.

I agonized over where to go, but eventually chose the Faculty of Law.

If you want to succeed on the Moon, you either get an MBA or excel in mathematics.

The key is to study abstract things, where everything can be done with paper and a pencil. That’s because the more you touch physical reality, the more your speed drops due to friction.

It’s often said: The person who makes semiconductors in a factory is walking on foot. The person who manages that factory rides a car. The person who draws the blueprints for the semiconductors manufactured in that factory flies in an airplane. And the executive who manages those PhDs drawing the blueprints rides the space elevator.

Thinking of it that way, a lawyer would be somewhere in the upper middle on the Moon. To earn groaning amounts of money, you have no choice but to hire people, but even if you work alone, you only use paper and a pencil in the end, so the profits are decent. This is especially true on the Moon, where corporations wage legal battles over intellectual property rights.

That’s why the Faculty of Law is also a place where people who failed at mathematics, or selfish people who want money but don’t want to learn the raw rules of business, finally find a way out. I’m sure both Cerault and Lisa thought that way.

Four years ago, my dream was to earn a massive sum of money that no one had ever earned before, and use that money to stand in uncharted territory. That dream was crushed, but as a fallback plan, being a lawyer isn’t bad.

Those two probably thought that’s what I was thinking.

Wearing a pinstripe suit with gold cufflinks, slicking back short-cropped hair, and earning money by continuously lambasting opponents in court as if killing people with words—certainly, the me from four years ago might not have thought that was a bad idea.

But the reality was different.

Cerault apparently still thinks so, but I’ve properly confided in Lisa. It was at the 22nd Street Church, on the night they threw a moderately lively celebration for my university admission—though not quite to the level of Chris’s today. When I told her the reason I entered the Faculty of Law, Lisa quietly hugged me before saying anything.

However, after doing so for a while, she pulled away and smiled, looking slightly lonely.

—You’ve grown up, haven’t you.

If that was her true feeling regarding my statement that I wanted to help people in trouble even a little bit, then Lisa was, after all, Lisa.

Being treated like a child was pathetically, yet incredibly, comforting.

Because the Moon was just that cold.

However, that is precisely why I chose the path of law. Standing in uncharted territory—I don’t even think about wanting to do that anymore. What’s the point of going to a place where no one else is?

If there is someone I want to cherish, I am always ready to turn back from that uncharted territory. And this time, I intend to grip their hand tightly so I don’t lose sight of what’s important.

Only, right now, I don’t know where the person I want to cherish the most is. Hagana’s whereabouts have been completely unknown for four years. I don’t even know if she’s on the Moon or on Earth. Lisa searched for her more stubbornly than I did, but lately, I haven’t heard any updates on the progress.

On the other hand, every time I pass a girl with black hair, I feel a spasm in my right hand.

I walked while gazing at the sky and arrived at a dirty building that rivaled the gloomy apartment on 22nd Street. A sign next to the entrance read, “Lunar Government, 4th Outer District, 7th Ward Branch Office.” To get back to work, I passed through the first floor, which is always crowded with people filing complaints or applications, and entered the room at the back of the third floor, where I was unexpectedly called out to.

“Oh, you’re back already?”

I had completely assumed no one was there, but one plain-looking woman with long hair had remained.

“I already submitted my leave request, you know.”

“…With this face, it’s hard to stay at a celebration.”

My delivery is always deadpan. Many people I meet for the first time are bewildered by it, and the woman in front of me was one of them in particular.

Rena. My direct supervisor as a working scholarship student, and the overseer of the scholarship students. Whether I can live in the dorms, study at school while working, and receive a meager salary all depends on Rena’s evaluation.

She simply ties back her long black hair, always wears a shawl, cardigan, or some kind of shoulder wrap, and her skirts are so long they hide her shoes, made of cheap, fuzzy material like a blanket.

People from Earth unanimously say she looks like the textbook example of a female government clerk, and I suppose I agree.

This is the Moon, a place heavily advertised as having people who earn a million Mool in a single night—truth aside—and where the possibility of becoming that incredibly wealthy through sheer effort is higher than anywhere on Earth. Anyone who comes to such a place to work at a government office, where your salary won’t go up no matter how hard you work, is either a peculiar fool burning with a sense of duty, or an idiot who lacks the ability to work in the private sector.

Rena falls somewhere in between.

I am neither. I am less than a person, unable to be either a fool or an idiot.

“Hal-kun, your jokes never sound like jokes.”

Rena floated a troubled smile that suited her even better than Chris.

She should be older than me, and might even be the same age as Lisa, for all I know.

But Rena is terribly childish. If she were short, she might have had some charm, but since she’s rather tall, she just looks all the more clumsy.

“It’s half joke, half truth.”

“Hal-kun, you’ve been troubling me like this ever since you came here.”

“More importantly, why is no one here?”

When I asked that instead of answering her, Rena politely looked around the room, then smiled troubledly again.

“Because… it’s lunchtime.”

“It’s still ten minutes away.”

“…Everyone gets hungry, you see.”

Rena’s words irritated me, but there was no point getting angry at her.

Excellent human resources can be acquired by good workplaces first. Among them, the government office is dead last by a mile, meaning that even if their academic credentials look fine on paper, they end up gathering a bunch of useless people.

As a result, the burden falls on the serious employees, or the inefficient ones.

For example, an employee like Rena, who fits both descriptions.

“Where are we most behind? Let’s start from there.”

“It’s okay. I’ve already finished the first pass.”

Rena was smiling weakly, but I know she’s had all sorts of odd jobs pushed onto her under the guise of “chores” from here and there.

The section Rena and her subordinate, me, belong to was originally meant as a place to handle the government office’s odd jobs—preprocessing data for the Statistics Division and other divisions at the main bureau in Newton City to submit to bureaucrats.

The manual task of inputting statistical data into terminals—like the number of complaints that don’t even seem meaningful, or their trends—is an agony you wouldn’t understand unless you’ve done it. You seriously start questioning whether you are a human being or not.

The more selfish and frivolous a person is, the more they insist they are human, so in the end, it falls to those used to enduring to handle it.

Rena, with a faint smile on her tired face, repeats these monotonous tasks every day. When I first came to this workplace, it looked like a slow suicide.

However, no matter how weak her sense of self might be, Rena couldn’t possibly work like a slave in a workplace with zero fulfillment. The only reason she manages to hold her ground here is that there was just one thing she wanted to do.

“More importantly, a few more applications came around…”

In Rena, whose overall color palette resembles dried grass, there is a single moment when vitality dwells.

“Are you going to do them now? You should at least eat lunch.”

“Then, I’ll go buy something I can eat with one hand. Hal-kun, would you mind looking them over first?”

Rena, who usually looks like she would blow away in the wind, had sparkling eyes. On this resource-scarce Moon, I was handed physical, paper documents—things that, for some reason, never completely disappear.

Rena was originally contracted not to handle statistical numbers, but to organize and check the various data submitted to the government office in applications. Most of them were boring applications, but a few carried significant meaning.

One of those was the subsidy application for welfare organizations.

The activity subsidy system for welfare organizations is said to be a hotbed for fraud. It’s said that organizations with no actual substance apply and illegally receive subsidies. There are occasionally rumors about government officials taking bribes to smooth things over, but that is highly unlikely. There’s no need to send bribes because they barely do any proper screening in the first place.

“Did you find anything that looks legitimate?”

When I asked, Rena, who had half-stood up from her chair, replied with her hands resting on the backrest.

“Finding them is our job.”

“Well, I suppose so.”

“Let’s work hard for the people who truly need the funds.”

Rena cut her words off there and smiled happily.

“Let’s at least be allies of justice, just the two of us.”

Then, swaying her long hair, which she probably just lets grow out because taking care of it is a hassle, Rena went to buy lunch.

In a place like this—where the pay is meager, overtime pay is almost never issued, most of the workers are sloppy, and you’re hardly ever respected by society—Rena is so innocent you’d think there was something wrong with her head. She must be in her mid-twenties by now, yet she might not properly understand the workings of the world.

However, I also felt somewhat relieved by that slightly pathological slowness of hers. Chris was similar to Rena, but Chris is a kind of superhuman who can put in an amount of effort I couldn’t even hope to match.

In that regard, Rena was a slow woman, so much so that even I got worried about her.

It would be very easy to tell her to turn on the TV and look at the world. Sorting through fraudulent applications and doing background checks so that organizations truly in need of funds can receive subsidies is an act bordering on playing house on this ruthless Moon.

But if I were to enlighten Rena like that, would any good come of it?

Surely, nothing would.

Let’s at least be allies of justice, just the two of us.

That single line possessed an irresistible resonance.

I couldn’t become a hero. That’s why I wanted to at least be a modest ally of justice.

Those words were close to beer, in that they brought a pleasant intoxication.

And the fact that they held a bitterness was also similar.

---

“Eh… already, just this?”

Returning with what looked like a sandwich bought from a food stall out on the neighborhood street, Rena said that as soon as she arrived.

“The methods are mostly the same, you know. If you check the phone numbers and addresses, you can tell right away.”

“Telephone answering services and fictitious addresses, was it?”

“That’s right. When I sorted the phone numbers of organizations that have already been granted subsidies, several of them overlapped.”

“It’s terrible that they don’t even do that much background checking.”

Rena dropped her shoulders as she said that, but it couldn’t be helped. The staff shortage at the government office is severe, and it’s barely functioning properly at all. They don’t have the time to deal with every little petty subsidy fraud.

“There are only three that look legitimate. These are a list of suspicious ones that are probably no good. Just in case, try calling to confirm.”

While receiving the sandwich from Rena, I thrust several documents toward her.

They listed phone numbers that weren’t answering services and addresses that weren’t fictitious. Most of them were rough frauds where only the destination bank account was real, using unrelated actual phone numbers and addresses for the rest.

Even so, if they got lucky, they might pass the screening and have the subsidy transferred.

“When I called the other day, all seven out of seven were fakes, weren’t they…”

Rena acted as if she were receiving a poorly scored test, but I offered neither agreement nor sympathy.

“Ah, but,” Rena said, turning back to me—who was sitting back-to-back with her—before picking up the phone on her desk. “There are candidates left this time, right?”

“…”

I left a gap of a few seconds before replying.

“Yeah, well.”

“I’m glad. It’s been a while since anything made it past Hal-kun’s screening.”

An innocent smile that looked truly slow.

Biting into the peppery chicken sandwich, I turned back to my own desk.

Rena didn’t seem to mind my unsociability much and was making phone calls with the documents she had just received from me in hand. She had probably already completely forgotten about the sandwich she bought herself.

Rena is the classic absentminded type who forgets one thing the moment she does another; I’ve witnessed her several times looking a little sad as she wrapped up dry, forgotten food to take home. She probably eats it while mumbling to herself in a cramped room of a rabbit-hutch-like dormitory rented by the government.

I couldn’t help but wonder what human happiness is.

Behind such a cold-hearted subordinate, Rena staked a sliver of hope, calling the numbers on the “no good” list.

“…Yes, yes… I see, so you have no knowledge of this… yes…”

I could hear such exchanges, and it was only up to the fourth call that I could feel any spirit in Rena’s voice at all. Even so, I was impressed that she had become quite resilient lately. When she first started doing this kind of thing, the moment she found out the first one was a fake, she would get so depressed she couldn’t make the second call.

I wondered how she had managed to survive up until now with such clumsiness. Or perhaps she would break down from here on out.

Given that she meddles in work she doesn’t even have to do in a workplace where most employees leave before noon and barely return until past two o’clock, that possibility is surely high.

“No, excuse me…”

Rena touched the end-call button on the screen and hung up.

It seems the sixth one was no good either.

“Haa…”

Without even looking back, I knew exactly how depressed she was.

In a narrow room with no one else around, and on top of that, Rena is my supervisor.

I reluctantly said this:

“Would you like some coffee?”

“Eh.”

Rena firmly straightened her hunched back, raised her face, and turned around.

“Are you going to brew some for me?”

“There’s no one else here, after all.”

“Wow, I’m so happy. Yes, please.”

Rena immediately broke into a smile and said that. I nodded, opened my desk drawer, and took out coffee beans imported from Earth and an old-fashioned manual grinder. The way to brew coffee was something Lisa taught me.

After work, instead of going back to the dorm to study, there are times when I stay here—where the utilities are free—to study. At those times, coffee serves as a change of pace and one of my few entertainments.

The reason I rarely brew it is simply because, for someone on a meager salary, whole-bean coffee is an expensive luxury item.

“Well then, I’ll finish the remaining calls by the time it’s ready.”

Rena said with a smile, and I stood up from my chair.

The workplace was very quiet. Just the occasional slurp sound of sipping coffee.

When I returned after brewing coffee for two, as expected, Rena was staring blankly at her desk, looking at a loss.

Right now, she was aimlessly watching a daytime television program displayed on a section of her monitor.

“I expected it, but…”

Rena said shortly, then drank her coffee.

“It really is disheartening when every single one of them is no good.”

“…”

Even if the applications were nothing but frauds, I highly doubt it has any impact on Rena’s life.

Besides, if she wishes to be an ally of justice, I think she should be proud of having uncovered evil, rather than getting this depressed.

I once told that to Rena herself.

I thought she might get angry, but Rena didn’t do that; instead, she smiled a little shyly.

“Even though the Moon is so beautiful, it makes me sad that it’s filled with malice.”

Rena’s profile as she blankly watched the TV lacked spirit and looked like someone who could be easily deceived. I sipped my black coffee, without milk or sugar, and looked at the documents remaining on my desk.

Rena noticed this and looked my way.

“But, we still have three candidates left today.”

“…Please don’t get your hopes up.”

“Eh, why?”

“Do I need to spell it out?”

“Uuu… b-but, if they survived Hal-kun’s strict selection, shouldn’t it be okay to expect something?”

“I don’t know if it’s strict… but they just cleared the basic hurdles, that’s all.”

Rena still looked like she wanted to say something, but apparently gave up in the end.

She returned her gaze to the TV and sipped her coffee.

“Still, you’re amazing, Hal-kun.”

“Eh?”

“Because you see right through all these lies doing almost nothing. If I were to check, I think I’d just be looking at whether the spelling is correct, or if there’s a stamp in the designated place, things like that.”

“…I think that’s also important, you know.”

“Fufu. You’re kind in weird ways, Hal-kun.”

When I looked, Rena had furrowed her barely groomed eyebrows slightly and was giving a wry smile.

“I’m clumsy, so I don’t catch on easily. How do you know, Hal-kun?”

“How… you ask.”

“I mean, it’s not like there’s a manual for that kind of thing, right? Or do they teach that in the Faculty of Law lectures?”

“They don’t.”

“Then, how?”

Rena asked with innocent eyes. The kind of look that believes questions always have answers—something most people lose in their early teens.

I looked at the TV program past Rena, then said shortly:

“Intuition.”

“Ehh? That’s a lie… You can’t just realize a phone number belongs to an answering service based on intuition. And how can you tell it’s suspicious even when both the number and address are real?”

“It’s really just a coincidence.”

“…”

Rena opened and closed her mouth in dissatisfaction, and eventually fell silent as usual. Rena was surely asking seriously in her own way, so I could have given her a serious answer. But to answer that, I would end up recalling things I didn’t want to remember.

A subsidy application is a presentation of who, is doing what, where, for what purpose, and how much money they want. When I was in my teens, I stared at a mountain of things like those presentations.

The program Rena was watching aimlessly was dealing with exactly that.

In this booming Moon with a severe wealth gap, it’s the thing that everyone from the elderly to children is enthusiastic about.

“I think it’s amazing. So, I think you’d be suited for this too, Hal-kun.”

Looking as if she still couldn’t give up, Rena said that while looking at the monitor. On the screen, a famous woman with platinum blonde curls piled on her head and wearing her trademark sunglasses was shouting about something with documents in hand.

A stock information program.

Subsidy applications resembled corporate stock prospectuses.

The person on the display was one of the ultra-popular analysts, hailed as a guardian deity of the people’s wallets.

Spitting as she spoke about stocks, making even someone like Rena feel like buying them.

“No way. I’m not suited for it.”

“Really? You look like you’d be very suited for it…”

“More importantly, how about a refill on that coffee?”

“Heh? Ah, yes please.”

Rena surely thought I was dodging the question.

But I answered with uncharacteristic seriousness.

I am not suited for stock trading.

I was never suited for it at all.

---

Only three possibilities remained that they were people trying to help those truly in need, with no flaws to be found in the paperwork. Rena called each of them, and the responses were all perfectly normal.

But I tossed two of the three documents into the trash can.

The blank look on Rena’s face was a little amusing, but she immediately glared at me sharply.

“Please tell me the reason.”

She said it as if I were the enemy.

“The back-and-forth of the conversation was slow, wasn’t it?”

“…The conversation?”

“Wasn’t it? The responses and the back-and-forth were one tempo delayed.”

“…That’s true, but… so what? The connection might have been bad. There are a lot of those kinds of troubles on the Moon right now, aren’t there?”

“Noise and conversation delay are two different things. Most likely, the other end of the phone is on Earth.”

“Eh.”

“No matter how much technology advances, you can’t exceed the speed of light. A delay noticeable enough to hear just by listening means the call is undoubtedly being forwarded and connected to Earth. Probably some obscure southern island, or some rocky region in Eastern Europe… anyway, a place where you can’t rely on the local police, and our police would think it’s ridiculous to go there. And at the address written on that document, there’s a clueless third party.”

There is an endless stream of cases where trading companies and importers who need to communicate frequently with Earth have their dedicated line forwarders hacked. Most of the culprits are immigrants without the money to call Earth, and since the damage amounts are small, the hacked parties often don’t notice. There are even specialized brokers who sell slots on lines that can be forwarded to Earth.

If you ask why I know something like this, it’s because it came up in a case study in the Faculty of Law.

The problem was designed to make us think from multiple angles: is the crime in this case theft of a communication line, theft of electricity, destruction of property regarding the forwarder, falsification of electronic data, or a violation of the Communications Act?

You never know what will actually be useful.

Beside Rena, who was looking blank, I shrugged.

“But this one didn’t have that either, did it?”

“A-A-Ah, th-that’s right. That’s right! This one is surely okay.”

Rena said, looking at the last remaining document. It was for a place that could safely be called a slum, apparently providing temporary lodging facilities and employment support for immigrants. Checking the map, the document matched the building, and there was no data indicating suspicious contractors or unrelated companies were located there.

When she called, a staff member answered immediately and responded crisply. Normally, it would be considered clean, and Rena looked at me as if to say, Is there still a reason to doubt it?

But my intuition smelled something foul.

“There’s no need to rush, is there?”

When I said that, Rena fell silent. For every fraudulent case we reduce, the possibility of a legitimate organization receiving the subsidy increases, and the possibility of helping people in trouble increases.

Let’s at least be a modest ally of justice.

As I stared at the document in silence, I heard a noisy clamor of people’s voices coming from outside. Rena, who had a dissatisfied look on her face, flinched at the sound, spun her chair around, and faced her screen again.

Immediately after, a group of people in casual clothes, who hardly looked like they did desk work, came in.

They are the guys who barely do any work but make sure to collect their salaries and benefits right on time.

Returning to their desks, they opened the exact same stock information program Rena had been watching, and started bawling in vulgar voices about which ones were good or how much they had made. The only time they get quiet is when the overworked section chief, who handles three other departments concurrently, comes around on patrol.

I also returned to my desk and started my boring work. Rena never tries to converse with me while they are around. It’s precisely the guys who don’t work who harshly criticize the serious workers if they slack off even a little. Quite a few serious employees have quit because of that.

However, Rena, who looked the most timid of all, seems to have a reason why she absolutely cannot quit this place.

The classic Moon story: the truly weak can’t even run away.

Until past five o’clock, the scheduled time when they leave, Rena and I didn’t say a single word, just silently continued organizing sterile data.

---

Leaving the workplace last, I returned the card key to the guard and stepped outside to a madder-red sky.

The government branch office is located in an office district with somewhat cheap land values in the 4th Outer District.

The area is lined with half-baked shops matching the income of the local workers—not expensive, but not selling themselves purely on being cheap either. Going about two blocks north takes you to a slightly more prestigious district, and apparently, Rena goes there occasionally too. When I wondered how she could afford it on a government clerk’s meager salary, she mumbled something with a red face about making money on stocks. I’m pretty sure I didn’t give any reply to that.

The madder-red sunset has a unique heat to it, mixing people still working with those finally freed from their jobs. The reason I prefer this time of day to the early morning, despite it being the same madder red, is probably because there are more people.

“Um, are we really going to look?”

“If you have plans, I’ll go look by myself.”

“…Hal-kun, you’re mean.”

Adjusting her dark brown shoulder bag, Rena said this.

“It’s the only one that finally remained, so I’ll go look too. Besides, I really don’t understand what’s wrong with it.”

I can somewhat understand her dissatisfaction. There are no flaws in the paperwork, and their responses on the phone were perfect.

But this one is probably no good.

“Well, we’ll know when we get there.”

“I suppose so.”

Yes. We’ll know when we get there. I learned that from a certain person four years ago. The fact that that person’s words are still alive today probably means he was the real deal after all.

That brings me a measure of comfort, rather than frustration. I was deceived and killed by a genuine human being. If he was a true professional, then there’s no helping that a kid who was practically an amateur was easily swatted aside, right?

“…”

Laughing only in my heart, I walked alongside Rena toward the address written on the document.

Since I’m using a crutch, even Rena, who generally walks slowly by societal standards, walks faster than me. Four years ago, I surely would have pushed myself to run, even on one leg. Driven by impatience, wanting to go faster, further ahead to stand in uncharted territory.

Now, however, even standing behind Rena—who lives on the Moon like chewing moss growing on a rock—I have no desire to overtake her.

This is fine; I’ll just do what I can.

That’s what I thought.

“Ah.”

My musings were broken by Rena’s voice from ahead. When I looked up, a small crowd had formed in the hustle and bustle. Looking in that direction, Rena jogged over happily.

Probably a street performer showing off something on the street for spare change.

“Is it okay if we watch for a bit?”

“Go ahead.”

She was already in the circle of people before even asking. I watched from a short distance away. The person in the center of the circle seemed to be a violinist, and after a short greeting, the unique sound of a string instrument could be heard.

The tone of an elegant instrument in a place like this quickly attracts people. Moreover, they were simply good. The ring of the crowd became two, then three layers deep, and by the time the performance ended, it was a massive throng. Applause and whistles echoed, and quite a few people were fumbling to take out their wallets.

Among talented students, some apparently cover everything from tuition to living expenses with this. Even otherwise, there are many among the immigrants from Earth who make a quick buck as a side job by playing the music of their hometowns. Even if they don’t share the language or understand the customs, music alone is universally understood.

Tough, I thought. I’ve never once heard of a Moon-born Moon bastard making spare change like that. I thought I was different, but before I knew it, I had become one of those useless Moon bastards.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Just as the second song was about to begin, Rena managed to pull herself out of the crowd. She was still clutching her wallet, so she must have thrown some change.

“They were really good, weren’t they?”

Whether she was desperate from pushing through the crowd or the performance was just that amazing, Rena’s cheeks were unusually flushed. After fiddling with data endlessly at work, the blood drains from her face, leaving her the color of marble, so as a colleague, I felt relieved.

“Were they?”

“Yes. That person surely practiced properly somewhere on Earth.”

Rena probably doesn’t intend to be exceptionally biased toward Earth, but it can occasionally be seen scattered in snippets of her words.

Living on the Moon can hardly be called easy, so she’s probably feeling homesick.

“Couldn’t you listen to as much as you want for free online?”

“That’s certainly true… but it’s still nice to hear it right in front of you. For that, it’s worth paying a little change.”

“Is that how it is?”

“That’s how it is.”

I offered a certain degree of agreement to Rena and started walking.

“It would be nice to be able to play an instrument.”

“Eh?”

“An instrument. I used to play the piano in the past, too.”

Saying that, Rena mimed striking a keyboard while walking. Her movements could hardly be called smooth, and perhaps noticing my gaze, Rena shrank her shoulders in embarrassment.

“Of course, I didn’t get any better and gave up halfway through.”

Not knowing how to reply, I nodded for the time being.

“But when you’re little, you’re very bold, you know. There was a time I thought I could become a pianist.”

“Huh.”

For Rena—who wears dried-grass-colored clothes, lives on a meager salary, works in the even lower-tier data processing room of an unrespected government office, and gets work pushed onto her by other colleagues—that’s certainly a bold dream.

“Fufu. It’s a dream from a looong time ago, though. From the past…”

While walking, Rena gazed at the sky, which was beginning to change from madder red to ultramarine, with squinting eyes. The Rena of the past surely could have dreamed any dream, and her potential was likely truly infinite.

But the Rena of today is exactly as you see her.

And what kind of potential does she have from here on out?

As I walked a few steps behind Rena, she stopped and fell in step beside me.

“What is your dream, Hal-kun?”

Words I thought the slow, innocent Rena would say someday.

Because the Moon is a place where people pursue success as their desires dictate, those who do not hold a dream here are only permitted to live by serving those who do.

Leaning on my crutch, I answered.

“I don’t have one.”

“Eh?”

“I don’t. I just don’t.”

I didn’t say that I had lost it.

But my dream had shattered into pieces four years ago on that day, right along with the display that was smashed against my forehead when I passed out.

“…”

Rena looked at me like I was some rare, strange creature, but eventually gave a small smile and sighed.

“I’m relieved.”

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. Because people on the Moon are always just looking up. And the people who aren’t looking up are only thinking about how to stand above those around them. But if you can’t climb up yourself, that means trampling on others, doesn’t it?”

“Are you talking about the guys at work?”

“…You really are mean, Hal-kun.”

Giving a wry smile, Rena’s face, which still retained a childlike sweetness despite her age, tightened just a little.

“I don’t think competition is a bad thing, but if everyone is competing, who is going to take care of the people who fall and get hurt?”

A naive way of thinking.

The countries on Earth that poured their efforts into welfare like that went bankrupt, almost without exception.

“I get laughed at for being idealistic, though.”

Rena laughed carefree, as if it were a funny story.

Even someone whose face wasn’t paralyzed like mine probably couldn’t laugh like that.

“But I can help someone, just a little bit. For example, by seeing through fraudulent applications.”

“I suppose,” I said shortly, and then repeated, “Truly, it is.”

“Of course, it’s hard to do without the help of someone like you, Hal-kun.”

Seeing Rena smile wryly, I was about to pull up the corners of my mouth with my fingers, but stopped.

I didn’t want it to be seen as a cynical smile.

“I also want to be of use to others, even just a little.”

“Fufu.”

“Is that funny?”

“No. I’m happy. Happy that there’s someone who thinks that way.”

“It might just be flattery for my boss and supervisor.”

“Fufufu. I’m a clumsy woman, but I do have somewhat of an eye for people. You’re a little scary, Hal-kun, but you’re a kind person.”

I had overheard that the troublesome job of overseeing working scholarship students was actually supposed to go to someone else, but it was forced onto Rena. I think Rena has a personality that draws the short straw.

But if most of the world is a zero-sum game, then for someone to gain, someone like Rena needs to be made to draw the short straw. In that sense, is Rena also being of use to someone?

Thinking about things like that made me depressed and unable to sit still.

Like a form of atonement, I said:

“Well, I don’t know if I’m kind, but I do want to be of use to someone.”

“Fufu.”

Rena was smiling, but it was my genuine wish.

Even if it’s something trivial, I want to be of use to someone.

Rena describes that as being an ally of justice.

And so, Rena and I arrived in front of a certain building.

---

It was a cheap, three-story building down a path that was more of an alley than a street.

It looked like someone had just carved a rectangular block out of lunar rock, hollowed out the inside, and made windows and an entrance. That’s how completely devoid of design it was.

Similar buildings lined the area, reminding me of the streets near Lisa’s church where I used to be taken care of.

“Is this the right place?”

“It’s the same as what we saw on the online map.”

“…”

“What is it?”

“No, just thinking that maybe I won this one.”

Rena looked at me mischievously, then casually turned her gaze toward the building.

A laundry rope was strung across the narrow passage in front of the building, and a few pieces of laundry were left hanging, perhaps forgotten. Next to it was a mountain of unidentifiable luggage, giving off the distinct atmosphere of a poor district where many people lived.

According to the documents, it’s run by three paid staff members and eight volunteers. The maximum capacity for accommodating immigrants in need is seventeen, which seems about right for that number of staff.

I ran my eyes over the miscellaneous items around the building.

A tattered soccer ball, a worn-out doll, and in a place that looked like a garbage dump, a mountain of empty bottles of the watery beer most commonly drunk on the Moon.

My doubts slowly turned into conviction.

There were no flaws on the paperwork.

But there was a clear defect there.

“Well then, shall we go talk to them?”

Contrary to my thoughts, looking at this building and its surroundings, Rena seemed to believe her own idea had been proven correct. True, people of the low-income bracket were clearly living here. Playthings that could be mistaken for garbage and empty beer bottles are the most easily understandable markers.

However, there was just one thing that couldn’t be hidden.

“Oh, can I help you with something?”

Right as Rena was about to knock on the ground-floor door.

One of three men who appeared around the corner called out.

“Eh? Um… well,”

As Rena was hesitating, the man in work clothes with his sleeves rolled up, obviously a manual laborer at a glance, looked me and Rena up and down without hesitation and said:

“Hmm? You don’t look like real estate agents.”

The Moon suffers from a severe housing shortage, and real estate agents appear anywhere people might be able to live.

And folks living in a place like this must have experienced being kicked out of their homes by real estate agents more than once; they surely hold grudges too.

“U-Um, we, are…”

Even the slow Rena seemed to have immediately realized that context. Panicking like she had the hiccups, she rummaged through her bag, desperately trying to introduce herself.

I reluctantly tried to throw her a lifeline, but right before I could, the building’s door suddenly burst open. Children flew out, completely ignoring Rena, and ran in a straight line toward the men.

“Welcome home!”

“Oh! I’m home! Were you good kids?”

Even without the Moon’s low gravity, those men surely would have lifted their children effortlessly. With incredibly happy faces, they caught the children running up to them, hoisting them onto their shoulders or carrying the loudly laughing kids under their arms like luggage.

Two stout women, also holding nursing infants, appeared from the doorway, welcomed the men respectively, and kissed them without hesitation.

“Um…”

Beside them, Rena stood looking completely out of place. She probably wanted to say the line, Is this a welfare organization facility that provides temporary lodging and employment support for immigrants? But the words wouldn’t come out.

Eventually, amidst the modest happiness at the end of the day, they seemed to remember the presence of their peculiar guests.

“Did you need something with us?”

The man whose child and wife hadn’t come out to greet him asked.

However, when he briefly raised his gaze, he waved at a little girl peeking her face out of a third-floor window.

“Um, well, is this—”

“How is the livability around here?”

I interjected, brushing Rena aside. We were a little distance apart, so I raised my voice to match.

The man turned back to me with a puzzled look, but upon seeing my crutch, he seemed to reach some conclusion on his own.

A convenient item.

“Yeah, it’s not bad. The fact that it gets pitch black at night is a drawback, I suppose… but it’s not dangerous. What, thinking of moving around here?”

“Yes. Rent just keeps getting higher everywhere.”

“Hahaha. True enough. We were kicked out of another district and came here ourselves. Our earnings just couldn’t keep up… But any place you live can become home. Above all, especially if you’re not alone, right?”

The man looked back and forth between me and Rena, giving the bewildered Rena a clumsy wink.

A splendid mustache, a huge physique, and this theatricality—he’s probably an Italian immigrant.

I cleared my throat lightly and said:

“Watching you all, I think so to a point where it’s not even a joke.”

“Hahaha.”

As the man laughed, a high-pitched child’s voice rained down from above: “Dinner’s ready!”

“I know, I know! Well, that’s how it is, so I recommend this area. We’re renting this place with my brother and a couple we brought along from Earth, but it’s 400 Mool per person at most. In a proper part of town, that’s barely enough to wipe your ass with.”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Though even so, it takes everything we have just to survive…”

That weak smile was probably the same kind of forced smile they show desperately at their worksites to avoid getting fired.

“Well, if you’re interested, I can introduce you to the local boss around here. When in trouble, we help each other out.”

The man said that to me, gave Rena another clumsy wink, and went inside the building. When the door closed, the surroundings returned to the usual sterile back alley. The lively, sweaty, but continuously laughing happiness was put away behind the door.

Rena stood there in stunned silence, staring at the closed door.

“It’s difficult to tell a complete lie, but…”

“!”

Rena turned around in surprise at my words.

“If a certain extent of it is fact, it’s easy to lie.”

“…What… do you mean…”

“The three paid staff members are probably the mothers managing this place. The eight volunteers are likely the number of children.”

“…”

“Calling it a temporary lodging facility for immigrants is probably because they intend to eventually succeed and leave this place. And employment support isn’t technically a lie since they are seeking better jobs.”

“But—”

“And I think the fact that they are seeking subsidies for those ‘activities’ isn’t a lie either. If even a place like this costs 400 Mool in rent, saving money must be difficult.”

I looked up at the three-story building and gave a small shrug at their shrewdness.

“The capacity of seventeen people was the major flaw.”

“Eh?”

“They probably thought that scale was necessary based on the number of staff and volunteers, but seventeen people here in addition to the staff? No way.”

The three-story building isn’t very large.

With three households inside, it’s probably chaotic with no room to even step.

My family back home used to board roughneck laborers from Earth, so I saw firsthand every day exactly how many people required how much space and facilities.

“When you try to maintain consistency to cover up a lie, a discrepancy always appears somewhere. This case, too…”

I pulled the document from my bag and said:

“Is rejected.”

“B-But,”

“…”

“But…”

Rena mumbled and looked at the building once more.

“You’re… rejecting it?”

The reason she asked in a way that hardly sounded like an older boss was probably that she herself realized she wasn’t making sense.

“Subsidy applications are for welfare activities, you know.”

“But, if the money goes to people who are struggling, then isn’t that—”

“Isn’t that what?”

I asked back, realizing my tone was harder than necessary.

Besides, I was expressionless. I was probably giving her a harsher impression than I thought.

Even so, I didn’t change my words.

“Rules are rules.”

“…”

“If it’s an application for livelihood assistance, that’s a different counter. This is fraud.”

I said something like a model student, strictly following the fundamental principles.

In the past, if there was a loophole, I would have used it; if I could ride someone’s coattails, I would have done so without hesitation.

But where exactly did that loophole my cunning mind came up with lead to? I believed entirely in my own inspiration and ability to act, and sprinted down the path dictated by the Grim Reaper. And what waited at the end was a gaping, pitch-black hole.

Vividly remembering that terror, I was telling Rena this to protect myself.

“But…”

Rena murmured quietly again, looking my way as if her head were hanging.

“But that’s the last application form, right?”

“That’s right.”

“If you reject that… it means rejecting all of them, right?”

“So we should let at least one slide?”

When I asked back, Rena cast her eyes down.

I understand what Rena wants to say. Even if it deviates from the rules, if the funds go to people in need, isn’t that a good thing in its own way?

That might be true.

But I didn’t want to think that way anymore. I had paid a high price to learn exactly where that kind of thinking leads.

“You’re the boss, so I’ll leave this with you.”

Saying that, I stepped closer leaning on my crutch and thrust the document against Rena’s chest.

“I’ve done everything I can. I leave the final decision to you.”

“…”

Rena timidly accepted the thrust document.

It might have been a kind of passing the buck, but I had no other choice.

“However, just because you pass that application doesn’t mean those families will truly be saved.”

When I said that, Rena looked at me like a girl who was about to cry from being bullied.

“And yet, the fact that you broke the rules will remain forever.”

I was speaking as if blaming Rena, but the one I was blaming was myself.

“You should think carefully. Judgments, once made, are not easily reversed.”

After saying that much, I averted my gaze and continued shortly.

“At least, not within yourself.”

“!”

Rena raised her face and looked at me.

Without meeting her eyes, I changed direction and started walking.

“Let’s head back. When it gets dark, it gets truly pitch black around here.”

“…”

Rena, who looked like she wanted to say something, eventually followed behind me while hugging the document to her chest.

After navigating the alleyway of convoluted buildings, we came out onto a crowded street.

Just as I was about to cross that boundary line, Rena called out to me.

“We’re powerless, aren’t we?”

When I looked back, she was looking down and I couldn’t see her face.

But I understood the meaning of the words she was saying.

“Yes.”

Powerless.

That was the unswerving truth.

---

“Well then, see you tomorrow.”

Giving a dry, exhausted-looking smile, Rena disappeared into the streetcar.

I never ended up asking what she was going to do with that document tucked away in her bag.

I wanted to go back to my boarding house, drink some booze I couldn’t handle, and just go to sleep, but I had a promise with Chris.

However, my feelings about going—which I hadn’t really wanted to do—had changed a little bit now.

People are not completely powerless, nor are they alone.

Lisa’s church and Chris’s existence should remind me of that. Chris won glory located in a very high place, and Lisa’s stubbornness continues to take root on this Moon.

With that, I wondered if I should have invited Rena too.

She would surely return to a cramped room where no one greeted her, and gnaw on the dry chicken sandwich she had missed eating during the day.

But it’s too late to contact her now.

This, too, was one of those irreversible judgments.

For a moment, my right hand began to throb, but I managed to let it pass.

I’ll see Rena again tomorrow.

Through the town where the veil of night was falling and everyone was hurrying home, I walked alone, hunched over and dragging my leg.

---

After grabbing some random booze at a familiar general store near Lisa’s church, I headed over, only to find it unbelievably quiet.

I pushed open the door, which was always left half-open alongside a poster reading “The joy of faith is open to all.” Once the sun sets, the inside of the church becomes instantly dark, making it hard to see inside. Because they couldn’t pay the continuously soaring electricity bills, they could only turn on one or two lights.

However, I could hear the sound of dishes being put away coming from the back of the room, so Lisa seemed to be there.

“Oh, your timing was a bit off.”

Popping out was Lisa, who had her sleeves rolled up, likely in the middle of cleaning up.

“Is it already over?”

“No way. Everyone was making such a mess that I had them go to a place outside for a bit. Plus, I had to arrange for more drinks and food.”

“This is a gift, by the way.”

“Thanks. Just put it down over there.”

The area around the kitchen was full of garbage and empty bottles. I placed the booze on the sink, rolled up my sleeves, and hoisted a crate of empty bottles under my arm.

“Oh, you can just sit down, you know?”

“The gravity is low, so it’s the same even if I’m standing. I’ll help.”

Lisa tried to say something, but in the end just gave a slight wry smile.

“Then, could you carry them over to the storage room?”

“Is anywhere fine?”

“Yeah. Please.”

The “storage room” refers to the adjacent room next door, which was donated by a patron when Lisa set up the church here. When Lisa sold some of her rare books to a rich man on the Moon, he was apparently moved by her activities. He wrapped up his lunar business and returned to Earth about a year and a half ago, but his parting gift was two rooms in this apartment complex.

As I was about to carry the crate of empty bottles as told, Lisa suddenly raised her voice.

“Ah.”

“What is it?”

“There’s someone praying in the sanctuary, so be quiet, okay?”

“…Praying? That’s rare.”

“Hey. It’s someone who comes occasionally.”

“Huh, I didn’t know someone like that was around…”

“You dissatisfied?”

“Not really, it’s not like I want to claim territory.”

“Fufu. Boys think a place is their nest as soon as they hang around for a bit.”

Giving a light shrug at Lisa’s words, I carried the empty bottles over.

Since Lisa runs a church, naturally Christians come to pray sometimes.

But most people are surprised to see a church on the Moon, and Christians are no exception.

After all, because the Moon is located beyond the sky, and above all because of its profound greed, a papal encyclical from Earth declared it a dwelling place of demons. In other words, there are no official churches on the Moon.

The only ones here are hardcore believers like Lisa, who think that it’s precisely because it’s a demon’s dwelling that God’s prayers are needed.

Although there’s no persecution, it could never be the center of people’s attention. Much less for folks busy making money, for whom quiet time to pray doesn’t even exist.

The person here praying now must also be a poor individual living nearby. Maybe they got laid off and have too much time on their hands. Even if you pray to God, it’s not like you’ll get a job, nor will anything good happen.

Apparently, a mean-spirited statistician once measured the average lifespan of monks. The result was the same as the general public. But I could somewhat understand the feeling of wanting to cling to God in extreme situations.

I thought that, but my hope was that I would never again have to encounter a situation where I couldn’t endure without praying to God.

With hardly any lights turned on, I made my way to the next room relying only on the light coming in from outside the window. A few of the rooms served as lodging facilities, and it seems she was still sheltering people with nowhere to go. Right now, all the people she had been sheltering had just found jobs, and Lisa had laughed, saying she was happy but lonely.

I walked down the dark hallway where my shadow stretched out long, carrying the empty bottles to the storage room at the back.

On the way, I passed in front of the sanctuary Lisa mentioned. The light from a lit candle leaked through the gaps in the louvered doors installed on the room’s wall. Looking inside through the gap without really meaning to, I saw a crouching silhouette beneath the crucified Christ.

A woman?

The person there was a woman with long hair, kneeling with the hem of her skirt spread out in a circle.

She didn’t move an inch, showing just how earnestly she was praying.

What could she possibly want to pray for so much on this Moon?

Feeling that even stealing a glance would disturb her prayer, I carried the empty bottles as carefully as possible, set them down by the storage space, and headed back.

A devout Christian.

It felt like I had seen a rare creature.

When I returned to the next room, Lisa was taking a breather at the living room table.

“That was an unusually serious guest.”

“…”

At my wording, Lisa wore a smile that was hard to describe, almost like a wry smile. She poured tea into a dented tin cup and placed it with a clunk in front of the empty chair.

“You won’t easily find a church this devout on the Moon.”

“I’m surprised you don’t get yelled at, dressing like that.”

You only ever see the so-called “nun’s habit” in movies from Earth.

I pulled out the chair, sat down, and drank the tea Lisa had brewed. It was a Chinese fermented tea, with a slightly bitter taste.

“Oh, I did get yelled at. Plenty of times back on Earth.”

The reason Lisa returned to Earth was partly to dispose of her rare books, and partly to gather funds and personnel to build a church on the Moon.

Apparently, she faced immense difficulties and, in the end, gathered neither funds nor people. The Pope’s encyclical was partly to blame, but that wasn’t the only reason.

Even within Christianity alone there are many denominations, and there are those who believe a physical church isn’t even necessary. Even though there are countless faiths around the world, there are practically no religious buildings or organizations on the Moon.

The reason for this is summed up in a line often heard in old mafia movies:

Because it’s bad for business.

If there is a faith here, it is solely the resolve not to commit the folly of bringing problems that couldn’t be resolved on Earth to the Moon. It’s a thoroughly pragmatic mindset: We shouldn’t waste people and resources by bringing in the seeds of problems that haven’t been solved over thousands of years.

Therefore, from the perspective of the majority on the Moon, Lisa is considered a pariah.

In a way, it’s a regression to the era of the Church Fathers, Lisa had said with a laugh.

I only finally understood the meaning of that after studying.

“…So, you’re wearing that outfit out of spite?”

“I’d prefer you call it ‘resolve’.”

Lisa, saying that with a composed face, possesses a certain gravity that keeps her grounded even on this Moon.

Strong and unwavering.

“That’s amazing.”

“Eh?”

“I said, that’s amazing.”

Lisa looked at me blankly, then exaggeratedly looked all around the room.

“What, is it weird?”

“…Being praised by Hal… it just surprised me.”

“It is amazing. Continuing to hold onto your beliefs on this Moon.”

I said, looking out the window.

“…Did something happen?”

When I returned my gaze to Lisa, she was looking down at the steaming cup, smiling faintly. Not showing a worried face is very typical of Lisa.

“Nothing happened.”

“Nothing?”

“Yeah, nothing.”

I answered, and continued.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

My dream is gone, the person whose hand I held is gone, and I’m clinging to sentimental notions like wanting to at least be an ally of justice.

But I know that’s just thin plating.

If I truly wanted to be an ally of justice, I would have stamped my seal of approval on those immigrant couples’ application alongside Rena and passed it up to our superiors. And yet, what came out of my mouth were boring fundamental principles. If you ask why I said such things, it was because I was scared. I was scared to do anything based on my own discretion.

What if I make a mistake again? What if I hurt someone again? What if I lose something important again? That’s why I thought that perhaps helping people in trouble behind the scenes was something I could manage.

As Rena aptly put it, if I don’t participate in the competition and just offer modest first aid to those who fall and get hurt, I surely won’t clash with anyone. A monster won’t suddenly appear from around the corner and snatch everything away. The responsibility I forced onto Rena all stemmed from my fear.

I looked at my right hand resting on the table. Whenever I remember Hagana, it feels as if my right hand no longer belongs to me.

I felt the premonition of a spasm, but the sensation grazed the tip of my nose and vanished. Trying to grasp the past is what makes me freeze up. My right hand, feigning ignorance at the end of my gaze, moves as usual.

I felt truly powerless and unresisting against the sensation that my heart had necrosed once again.

“Hal.”

“…?”

“At the very least, I am here.”

A short sentence, yet it meant truly many things. I looked down slightly, feeling an emotion akin to embarrassment. I was probably happy, and a little relieved.

And just then, there was a light knock on the church door.

The people who would knock on a door that’s already wide open are limited.

“Yeees.”

When Lisa replied, a familiar voice came from the other side of the dark hallway.

“I-I’m back~…”

At the feeble delivery, Lisa smiled wryly, stood up from her chair, rinsed her cup, added ice taken from the freezer, and poured water. It made a pleasant cracking sound.

“Good grief, just because it’s legal doesn’t mean they should make a young girl drink so much…”

Saying that, Lisa left the living room with the glass in hand and ran down the hallway.

“Welcome back, Chris. Here, drink some water.”

“Ah, thank you…”

Vaguely following Lisa with my eyes, I peeked my head slightly into the hallway and saw Chris drinking the glass of water like a squirrel innocently stuffing its cheeks with sunflower seeds. Her clothes were wrinkled all over, with food crumbs and spilled drink stains here and there.

“You even got your clothes dirty… Here, go change after you drink that.”

“Ngu… Hic. Yes, I will…”

“Are things that wild over there?”

“…”

Chris closed her eyes, making a face like she was about to burp but couldn’t. Then, she took another sip of water and let out a small “Hic.”

“To the point where Cerault-san won’t come out of the bathroom…”

“Cerault? That’s quite something. I’d hate to call him over here now…”

“Fufu.”

When Chris laughed happily, perhaps due to the alcohol, Lisa looked at her and laughed with a good grief expression.

“Come on, go change.”

“Yes. Thank you for the water.”

Chris set the cup down and went into the room right near the entrance with slightly unsteady steps.

Right now, Chris lives here with Lisa. While Lisa was on Earth, Chris stayed at my family’s boarding house. But since I entered the dorms as a working scholarship student, and Lisa set up the church here, she moved over to this place.

She had said something about wanting to move into a dorm once she got into college so she wouldn’t be a burden to Lisa, but she hasn’t brought it up lately, so Lisa probably persuaded her not to leave.

Lisa, in her own way, loves to look after people and gets lonely easily.

“If I call those drunks over, they’ll just mess the place up again… I feel like I’ve been cleaning since morning. It’s like trying to draw a beautiful picture right on the water’s edge.”

Even though she said it with a sigh, there wasn’t a hint of annoyance.

Lisa has a broadmindedness that makes you feel she would accept anything.

However, that was exactly why I couldn’t tell Lisa everything.

“Well then, one last push.”

“Is there anything I can help with?”

When I asked, Lisa, who was putting a kettle on the electric stove next to the sink, gave a small shrug.

“There is.”

“What?”

“Stay here, as long as it doesn’t interfere with your tomorrow.”

“…”

When I gave Lisa a half-lidded look, she stuck her tongue out slightly and looked away while standing in front of the sink.

“Well, I’m not entirely joking. I’d hate to be the only sober one here.”

“…Understood.”

“I thought you’d say that.”

Lisa immediately broke into a smile.

“Then, I’m going to take out the trash and check on how things are going at the shop, so when the water boils, pour some tea, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Also…”

“?”

“No, never mind. It’ll be fine.”

Lisa laughed as if to brush it off, set the cups on the table, took the garbage bags in both hands, and went outside.

I watched the kettle making a soft hissing sound, and then noticed the strange situation on the table.

Two cups?

I already have my own. Moreover, one is a beautiful ceramic cup for guests.

As I was looking at them curiously, the door to the next room at the end of my gaze slowly opened.

There, alongside Chris who had changed her clothes, was the young woman who had been praying so intently in the sanctuary.