Chapter 15: The Shooting Star, Part 3

“...Your question is really quite strange.”
Azuma didn’t answer me immediately, but it wasn’t as if she failed to grasp the meaning of my question.
Clearly, my inquiry had caught her off guard, so much so that she seemed to want to conceal her surprise, but reacted too slowly for me not to notice the subtle shift in her expression.
It looked like she intended to play dumb... No, that wasn’t it. Perhaps from her perspective, it was impossible that I would ask such a question—after all, in the post-apocalyptic era, the culture of time-travel novels wouldn’t have been popular. So maybe she suspected she had misunderstood my words.
Seeing this, I carefully explained why I had asked the question in the first place.
After listening, she slowly composed herself and then fell into thought.
After a long pause, she finally replied, “Sorry, I can’t answer your question. Even I haven’t figured out what exactly is going on.”
“How can that be?” I was utterly baffled. “Is it that you crossed over with your body, or just your soul? Isn’t that something you’d know immediately? It should be very clear whether it’s one or the other, right?”
“You’re right, but...” she hesitated.
I quickly caught on. Generally, one can sense whether one’s body has been replaced without even looking in a mirror—just closing one’s eyes is enough. Only in one particular situation would a person be unable to understand this.
“Can I assume, then... that the body you’re using now is almost identical to your original one, as if it had never been swapped, but some subtle differences have made you suspicious?”
“...I can’t say much more for now.” Her tone was guarded.
I countered, “Didn’t you say you’d answer my questions in exchange for food?”
At this, her expression flickered with inner conflict. Unfortunately, after struggling, she maintained her caution.
But it seemed less about hiding information from me, and more about protecting me from being dragged into her troubles.
She had shown this same emotion several times before. Perhaps, in her eyes, the changes she was experiencing were so strange and unknown that she didn’t want others to get involved until she was certain it was safe. Given her past, this was understandable. According to her, she had unwittingly dragged others into disasters more than once, which made her paranoid and hypersensitive to even the slightest disturbance.
“Alright... then at least answer me this—where did your handgun come from?” I shifted the topic. “Surely you don’t mean to say you don’t know that either?”
“That I can answer.” Her expression relaxed slightly. “I stole it from the local security department.”
“You stole it from the police?” I was taken aback. “Why risk stealing a weapon?”
“That wasn’t my original intention.” She explained calmly. “When I first arrived in this era yesterday, I knew nothing about my surroundings and desperately needed information to assess if I was safe. But I didn’t know where to find it. After thinking it over, I decided to sneak into the place that maintained local security.”
“Right off the bat, you infiltrated such a place? You’re braver than I thought...” I looked at her with newfound respect.
“Since it’s the place responsible for security, it must have the most information about local dangers. Investigating there is the most efficient.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, yet there was an undeniable air of confidence. “Besides, my ‘Blessing’ makes me unbeatable at escaping. If anything went wrong, I could get away quickly.”
I thought the most efficient method would be to find an internet café, but who knows if she could even use the internet.
“So then, when you snuck in and found the room where guns and ammo were stored, you just casually took one?” I was curious. “Now that the authorities are after you, were you discovered during the infiltration?”
“...Yes. I’m unfamiliar with the security measures in this era, so...” she reluctantly admitted, as if embarrassed to have been caught.
I continued, “You said this morning that you can’t use your supernatural abilities now because after arriving in this era, you forced yourself to use them despite soul trauma, all to evade capture by the authorities—is that right?”
“No.” She pursed her lips. “I can’t tell you the exact reason.”
Though she wouldn’t tell me, she didn’t lie either. Perhaps the real reason was connected to the incident where she was found bleeding and collapsed at an abandoned construction site. She probably judged that revealing the true cause would bring me dangerous calamity.
If so, wouldn’t that make me even more curious?
I knew I couldn’t rush her, so I changed the subject: “Hmm... so when I spoke with the police this morning, and you immediately understood they were referring to you as the serial killer, it wasn’t because you actually were the killer...”
“I’ve learned a bit about the basic security situation in this era. ‘A little girl wandering around nearby with a real gun’ can only mean me, right? And you confirmed that later.” She looked puzzled, rubbing her stomach. “I just don’t understand why they think I’m a serial killer.”
Turns out she had been probing me that whole time without my knowledge.
I had underestimated her.
But maybe it was time to stop questioning; she was still hungry.
I went over to the sofa, grabbed the remote, turned on the TV, and said, “Let’s leave it at that for now. You watch some television in the living room; I’ll make you some food soon.”
“Understood.”
Her gaze was immediately drawn to the colorful images on the screen, but she showed no astonishment toward the television itself.
I quietly observed her reaction and filed it away in my mind before turning to the kitchen.
Making a simple fried rice by mixing ingredients didn’t take me long. I worried a bit whether it might be too oily or salty for her stomach. Should I add more rice to reduce the proportion of oil, salt, and vegetables? But she said her body was fine...
Well, I’d trust her for now.
And if her stomach did have a problem afterward, I’d have a good excuse to let her rest at my place for a few more days.
Thinking this, I didn’t hesitate to increase the amount of vegetables in the fried rice and even grabbed some seasoned sauce from the fridge to mix in.
Soon, I carried two plates of deluxe fried rice out of the kitchen.
Perhaps caught by the aroma wafting from the kitchen, Azuma’s eyes had already shifted from the TV screen to look eagerly in my direction.
They say hunger is the best seasoning. Besides, if she was truly born in a world starved of food, her defenses against delicious meals would likely be much weaker than those of people living in peaceful times.
I’ve heard that in the less affluent last century, even instant noodles were considered a rare luxury, whereas now they are seen as just adequate fare.
I invited Azuma to sit at the dining table, set one plate of deluxe fried rice before her, and placed a spoon into her hand.
She held the spoon but stared blankly at the fried rice, motionless.
“You can eat now,” I reminded her. “Be careful, it’s hot.”
“Huh? Oh...” She snapped out of her daze but continued to gaze intently at the plate.
After a while, she swallowed hard, then scooped some rice mixed with vegetables, placed it in her mouth, and began chewing slowly.
I stood at the table silently watching her every move.
Midway through chewing, she seemed to notice my gaze, frowned, looked up suspiciously, and asked, “Why do you keep watching me? Aren’t you eating?”
I picked up my own plate, took a bite, and said, “I just wanted to hear your opinion.”
“It’s delicious.” She replied modestly and continued eating.
I had half expected her to react like a character in a fantasy novel tasting modern barbecue for the first time—overwhelmed with joy—but it seemed I was imagining things.
Gradually, I noticed a slight curve at the corner of her mouth. Her entire body, once as tense as a wild animal on high alert, relaxed considerably. Her knees, hidden beneath the table, began to sway gently.
Her attention was fully fixed on the fried rice, and her spoon moved faster.
“Don’t eat too fast; chew well to avoid stomach problems,” I couldn’t help but remind her.
“Mm, mm...” She nodded without looking away, slowing down her eating a bit.
As she ate, a blissful smile unconsciously slipped onto her face, and her complexion grew rosy.
Honestly, what was I even reminding her about?
But at this moment, she truly looked like a young girl in the prime of youth, not a wary, cold traveler afraid of being hurt or hurting others.
I had never thought about how to make her smile, nor imagined she could show such an expression.
This was the first time I had seen her smile.
I sat opposite her and watched her eat for a long time. For me, this might be an unnecessary emotion that could interfere when I needed to be ruthless, but surely gazing at such a lovely smile a few more times wouldn’t bring punishment.
...
...If she ever knew what I truly felt inside, how would she see me?