With everything tidied up and traces of her visit erased—the black tea and milk returned to their proper places—the small Judgment branch office regained its usual quiet atmosphere.
The crisp sound of the door closing echoed as the hurried bun-girl finally vanished down the far end of the corridor, just like any ordinary middle schooler eager to share good news with a friend.
Though Natsume Sonoko didn't share a deep bond with that girl, Kazakiri Hyouka—their meeting had been rushed and brief—because Index cared so much about her, Sonoko found herself paying closer attention as well.
Still, it had to be said: with her wallet empty and no money left for supermarket shopping, Natsume-san hadn't visited the little nun who worked as a part-time nearly-expired-food handler and store greeter for several days now.
"So frustrating. Going to the supermarket and not buying anything feels just wrong."
"Once you lose that solid financial backing, you're no longer the kind of middle school girl shopkeepers welcome with open arms."
Ethereal wind-wings slowly unfurled as a slightly sulky Natsume Sonoko zipped swiftly between the skyscrapers, ignoring the sharp whoosh of wind whistling past her ears.
The thought that this state of poverty would last until her next scholarship payment arrived made every day feel like a year.
She'd considered borrowing a little money from her senpai or classmates to tide herself over, but somehow, she just couldn't bring herself to ask.
Whether it was some pointless sense of pride or the burden of her "young lady" image, Natsume-san was acutely aware of anything that might lower others' opinion of her.
Cutting through the dense steel forest of the city, giving a wide berth to that windowless building, a small dark dot descended straight into the bustling streets.
In the distance, she could just make out some type of armed aircraft, but since it was heading in the opposite direction, she paid it no mind.
--+--
Dressed in loose employee attire, her ID badge dangling limply around her neck, the little nun—who'd chosen to earn her keep because the household she was staying with was so poor—sat idly in her designated seat, swinging her legs and watching the passersby.
Every now and then, she'd wander over to the sample TVs in the electronics section next door to catch a bit of Magical Powered Kanamin, completely oblivious to the fact that she, too, was a supermarket employee.
Even though she spent most of the day with little to do, that didn't change the fact that she was one of the store's star employees.
Thanks to her, the supermarket hadn't faced a single crisis caused by expired food in quite some time—not even baked goods that were a day away from going bad.
She'd perfectly solved the supermarket's dilemma between reducing food waste and ensuring food safety.
"The soft milk candies in the confectionery section have a one-month best-before date, the potato chips in the snack aisle are good for over three months... feels like forever, no matter how you look at it."
"Fresh fruit doesn't last long, but eating too much of it is like drinking water. Not many people buy the supermarket's fresh milk, and it doesn't taste that great anyway. Even the bread and sandwiches end up with only the weird flavors nobody wants."
Counting on her fingers, Index pouted, lost in her own particular worries.
Even though she was the type of terrifying bottomless pit who'd eat spoiled ramen, beef jerky a year past its expiry, or even a yakisoba bread—plastic wrapper and all—after spending so long in this well-stocked supermarket with its wide variety of foods, she'd started to develop some "luxury problems."
Still, the more important issue was how to do her job better. Fortunately, she possessed an exceptional memory—what one might call perfect recall.
The nearly-expired products in the supermarket followed certain patterns and quantities.
As long as she memorized the best-before dates of all the edible items in advance, then subtracted the daily sales and normal wastage, she could easily keep track of and manage her workload each day.
Occasionally, there'd be fluctuations due to sales, special discounts, or free Gekota promotions, but overall, things stayed relatively stable.
At the same time, it seemed this perfect memory of hers meant her brain was constantly consuming huge amounts of energy.
Maybe that was why Index was always hungry, always feeling like she hadn't eaten enough.
"As long as I memorize all the information, there's nothing that can stump me."
Feeling as if she'd gained a useful insight, a confident Index puffed out her chest. She really was the most suitable person for this kind of work.
"By the way, did I just see Sonoko-chan?"
"Shouldn't Sonoko-chan be in school right now?"
Her eyes widened, then took on a suspicious glint. Coming back to her senses, Index felt a strange, instinctive emotion toward the girl who was getting closer and closer.
The familiar ponytail, the height under 150 centimeters, the slim, almost scrawny build—all the characteristics matched.
Except… she couldn't quite make out the girl's face clearly. Had her eyesight worsened from sitting too close to the TV lately?
And the uniform the girl was wearing looked different, but she'd heard today was the seasonal uniform changeover—even Touma had switched to a new set.
Everyone had new clothes to wear… except her.
"Index, Index!"
Perhaps because she'd quickened her pace, Natsume-san's breathing was a little rushed as she cheerfully popped into the little nun's field of view.
As Natsume Sonoko drew nearer, the earlier blurriness in Index's vision gradually faded, revealing the girl in her true, perfectly normal state—a pitiful sight, with bandages wrapped around her head.
To avoid unnecessary trouble or curious stares, Natsume-san had maintained her usual practice, though sometimes she opted for full invisibility or just partial blurring.
But now that she'd found Index, there was no need to hide herself anymore.
"Sonoko-chan, you're hurt! It looks serious!"
Index let out a gasp, clearly startled and more than a little worried.
That bun-girl's current state was truly awful, bringing to mind some very unpleasant associations.
"That's not important!"
"Index, guess what I found? I located Kazakiri Hyouka-san."
The bun-girl's face broke into a smug expression, as if eager to see Index's reaction. She didn't like people fussing over her injuries—she'd come to share something happy.
But things didn't seem to be going as she'd expected. She'd thought Index would be delighted too, but instead, she was met with an unusually stern face.
"Patients need proper rest."
"Sneaking out like this without a word causes trouble for a lot of people, you know."
Looking straight at the bun-girl, Index spoke with earnest seriousness, as if she had particular experience in the matter.
--+--
T/N: If you want advance chapters, you can find it at [email protected]/AspenTL