Volume 2 Bonus SS

 It’s nice having no classes in the afternoon. But some students are annoyed about the morning’s commemorative ceremony, and Ami—currently gripping the edge of my desk—is one of them. Even though the morning’s obligations are over and we’re free to leave, she’s still standing there, passionately ranting.

“It’s the school’s founding anniversary, and we still have to come? Isn’t that basically a scam? They should just make it a holiday starting next year!”

As she shakes my desk and demands agreement with a “Don’t you think so?”, I point out something she’s completely overlooked, hoping to calm her down.

“Even if they make it a holiday next year, we’ll have already graduated, so it won’t matter to us.”

“Oh, right,” Ami says, her voice suddenly deflating.

With a more reflective tone, Maika chimes in. “It would be nice to have a holiday in June since there aren’t any, but… it’s not like we’d benefit after graduation.”

There’s a clear difference in how my two friends feel about the founding anniversary. Ami is fired up at the thought of a day off, while Maika, sitting calmly at her desk, seems far less bothered. Then, as if to shift the mood, Maika claps her hands lightly and looks at us.

“Got any plans? I feel like going somewhere.”

“Nothing in particular,” I reply, glancing at her.

Ami grins and adds cheerfully, “Me neither!”

“Then come with me to buy some sunscreen,” Maika says.

“Sure, I’m in! Can we stop by the bookstore too? I need a study guide,” Ami says, her voice unnecessarily loud.

Her enthusiasm makes me think of a manga I’ve been wanting to get. Sunscreen might be Maika’s summer essential, but for me, that manga sounds really good, and I’d love to pick it up if I can.

I’ve got enough money for it… but then I realize I’m running low on something else.

“Sorry, I just remembered I have something to do. You two go ahead without me.”

“Aw, come on, Shiori! Forget about whatever errand you just remembered!” Ami’s loud voice echoes through the classroom.

Maika adds, “What’s the errand? Are you going somewhere?”

“Not exactly somewhere… I forgot I’m supposed to meet my dad.”

“Your dad’s free today?” Maika asks, sounding surprised.

“Not free, just… he’s coming nearby for work and said he has something to give me.”

It’s a lie. I don’t actually have a meet up with my dad like that—he doesn’t have time for it. It’s just an excuse, because I don’t want to admit the real errand: going to the bank.

I’m running low on 5,000-yen bills for Sendai-san. She’s particular about her after-school payments—only a single 5,000-yen bill will do, not five 1,000-yen bills or a 10,000-yen bill with change. So, I need to exchange money.

Honestly, exchanging money is such a hassle. If I could avoid it, I would. But 5,000-yen bills are one of those things that seem like they’d be in your wallet but never are. For me, they’re something I constantly have to restock.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Maika says, sounding disappointed.

Ami, on the other hand, pipes up brightly, “I wanna see Shiori’s dad!”

Her words aren’t exactly welcome, so I gently shut her down. “He’s not worth showing off.”

It’s just an excuse, but even if it weren’t, my dad isn’t the kind of person I’d parade around.

“Then I’ll use my New Year’s money to pay a viewing fee for Shiori’s dad!” Ami declares.

“What’s that supposed to mean? How much are you planning to pay to see him?” Maika asks.

“Like, a thousand yen?” Ami replies.

“That’s a weirdly specific amount,” Maika says, and Ami starts arguing back, sounding mildly offended.

“If I had a thousand yen, I could buy a book. If it were me, I’d show off one or two dads for a thousand yen—heck, I’d do anything!” Ami declares with complete confidence.

Her words spark a question in my mind, and I ask, “Really? You’d do anything for a thousand yen?”

“…Depends on what it is,” Ami replies, her tone suddenly dropping.

Maika bursts out laughing. “That’s not ‘anything’ then!” she says, pointing out the obvious.

Yeah, that makes sense.

Ami’s straightforward. A thousand yen is a decent amount for a high schooler, but it’s not like someone would really do anything for it. There are things you’d do and things you wouldn’t—pretty obvious stuff.

But what if it wasn’t a thousand yen? What if, say—

“Hey, Ami. If I said I’d give you five thousand yen, would you do anything?” I ask, looking straight at her.

Five thousand yen—more than a thousand, but less than ten thousand. What kind of answer would she give for an amount like that?

“Hmm,” Ami says, drawing it out as if she’s putting on a performance. Then, clearing her throat, she spreads her arms wide and declares, “Shiori, you’d become a god!”

Her answer is so far from what I expected that I’m completely thrown off. Maika, sounding equally exasperated, chimes in, “Your god’s pretty cheap, Ami. Also, that doesn’t even answer the question!”

“Whatever! Anyway, five thousand yen is kinda half-baked, isn’t it? If you really wanted someone to do anything, you’d say ten thousand yen or something. I mean, it’s just hypothetical, right?” Ami retorts.

“What about a hundred thousand yen?” Maika adds.

The amount keeps escalating as Ami and Maika volley numbers back and forth. My simple question rolls further and further off track, and before I know it, they’re talking about what they’d buy with all that money. But my mind is still stuck on five thousand yen.

Even in a hypothetical, five thousand yen was called “half-baked.” It’s a middle-of-the-road bill, lacking presence. My dad, who gives me far too much allowance, rarely leaves five thousand yen lying around. It’s almost never in my wallet unless by sheer chance.

That’s why, the day I ran into Sendai-san at the bookstore, it was pure luck that I happened to have a five thousand yen bill. For some reason, I had one that day, so I paid for her. But luck like that doesn’t last.

Since I started giving Sendai-san five thousand yen, the few bills I had quickly disappeared. I had to figure out how to turn ten-thousand-yen or one-thousand-yen bills into five-thousand-yen ones, which led me to discover currency exchange machines. I also found out they’re surprisingly inconvenient—only usable during lunch breaks, or on days like today when school ends early.

Sendai-san has forced me to learn things I never needed to know and deal with annoyances I could’ve happily lived without.

Maybe I could just tuck away the five-thousand-yen bills that come my way, keep them sealed in an envelope, and only call her when I’ve stockpiled enough. But it’s not that simple.

“I should get going,” I say.

I grab my bag and stand up.

“Let’s walk together partway,” Maika says.

The three of us leave school. After about five minutes, I part ways with them and head straight for the bank.

I withdraw money from the ATM and join the line for the currency exchange machine, where a fair number of people are already waiting. When my turn comes, I insert the cash, and the machine spits out a 5,000-yen bill, which I slip into my wallet.

I’ve gotten used to this process now, though at first it left me confused.

These days, I can go to the bank and leave without feeling anything at all.

But sometimes, I wonder.

If the money I paid at the bookstore hadn’t been a 5,000-yen bill—if it had been a 1,000-yen bill and some coins instead…

Sendai-san probably would have refused to follow my orders, just like Ami said today—depending on the request. She might never have come to my house. And if it had been a 10,000-yen bill, I’m sure she would have shoved the change back into my hands at school and never visited at all.

If things had gone that way, I wouldn’t be sealing 5,000-yen bills in an envelope, or dealing with the nuisance of exchanging money.

Leaving the bank, I send Sendai-san the usual message.

Without waiting for a reply, I head home.

I don’t stop by the bookstore.

I walk along the darker tiles of the sidewalk, picking them out on purpose.

My phone buzzes inside my bag. I pull it out and see a message from Sendai-san, confirming that I’ll need the 5,000-yen bill I just exchanged.

What order should I give her today? In May, I kissed Sendai-san. In June, I bit her ear. Since then, I’ve kept calling her over without knowing what orders to give, and June has dragged on. All I know is that Sendai-san and I revolve around 5,000 yen.

I’m not her god, like Ami said, but when I hand her 5,000 yen, she does what I tell her.

Five thousand yen is nothing more than five 1,000-yen bills, half the value of a 10,000-yen bill. It’s never worth more or less than that. And yet, it’s exactly the right price to buy Sendai-san’s after-school time. It has to be a 5,000-yen bill.

I quicken my pace.

No matter what order I give, I need to be home before Sendai-san arrives.

About fifteen minutes after I get back, the intercom buzzes.

I check the monitor, confirm it’s her, and unlock the entrance. She reaches the front door quickly, and I open it.

“You’re early today,” I say, the words slipping out casually.

“Not that early,” she replies just as lightly, slipping off her shoes.

I head back to my room without waiting for her. Sendai-san follows, sets her bag near the bed, and unbuttons the second button of her blouse.

“Here,” I say, handing her the freshly exchanged 5,000-yen bill from the table.

“Thanks,” she says, sliding it into her wallet.

Like it’s nothing.

Like it’s just a meaningless routine.

The exchange of 5,000 yen is the start of today’s promise, the beginning of everything between us, and yet that’s all it is. Even so, I can’t help but wonder, just a little, where that 5,000-yen bill goes after it disappears into her wallet.