6. Parasite Date (2)

To leave one’s home only leads to trouble.

I declare this sentence as the truth.

Traditionally, people gain life lessons from biographies of great people.

The one truth I was able to discover from half-listening during history class was that every major incident to ever happen was outside one’s home.

The reason Buddha went through such hardship was because he had run away from home. The reason Caesar was assassinated was because he had uselessly wandered around outside.

But the most memorable death was that of the philosopher René Descartes. This man originally spent his time taking naps, however, his superior had suddenly ordered him to come to work by 5 A.M. and thus resulted in poor René Descartes dying of overwork.

After learning of such a historical tragedy, there's only one reasonable conclusion: Never go outside. Then your safety will be certain.

History scholars would probably gladly give a standing ovation to such a brilliant solution. My name would be forever remembered as the advocate of theory in the history books.

[Your response will have major consequences.]

That’s why, with a monster wearing the skin of a girl I killed sitting right in front of me, I promised myself I would never leave my apartment again. Only bad things happen to me when I leave it, after all.

“If you are to lie.”

Irene tilted her head, her black eyes shifting into slits.

“I’m sure you’re smart enough to know what will happen.”

I let out a soft sigh.

The reason as to why I opened the door for this monster in the first place. From an outsider’s perspective, it must’ve seemed very stupid. An illogical move.

But.

“Yeah, I killed her. I’m not going to deny it or trick you into thinking otherwise.”

Perhaps it was because of lingering emotions.

“...”

Something similar to regret?

“You must be curious as to why. Why you found that broken corpse all alone underneath that bridge.”

I leaned back, a faint smile on my lips.

“Well, it wouldn’t be a lie to say it wasn’t exactly me who killed her. She just went and killed herself all by her lonesome.”

[Boredom has decreased by one.]

Her smile kept stretching across her face, like a Cheshire cat.

I suppose it was because I was simply curious as to why the face of a dead girl had arrived at my door. That’s all. Though..

“Are you going to kill me? Because I ‘killed’ her?”

She put a finger to her mouth and rolled her pupils around, as if pretending to be in a state of thinking.

“Nope!”

The monster closed her eyes while showing me her smiling, stained teeth.

“I was just… curious.”

“Curiosity is a beautiful trait for a beautiful person such as yourself.”

“Is that so.”

Squelch. Squelch. Squelch.

At that moment, while we were in a somewhat tense exchange.

Squelch. Squelch. Squelch.

“Oh God.”

A strange and horrible thing was slowly approaching our table.

I turned to view Irene’s reaction, but she was simply looking out the window without any care.

“P-Part-timer…?”

It was the part-timer from the convenience store, the one where I bought sixty cans of beer from. But something awful had been done to her.

Her entire head had become melted, resulting in severe deformities. Her flesh was compiling against itself on what remained of her face, and she had become noseless and earless. I was reminded of those images of burn victims. Her body had become stout and oddly-shaped, and her legs had become short tree trunks made of flesh.

Squelch. Squelch. Squelch.

“...M-May I…”

“...?!”

“...Take…auroghh.. O-Order…”

“...!!”

A horrible nasally sound escaped from the hole which I believed to be her mouth each time she spoke.

“One coffee, please.”

Before I could speak, Irene ordered nonchalantly, as if everything was perfectly normal.

“...coffee…. Aaurogh…cough, cough…”

“Um. Take your time?”

Squelch. Squelch. Squelch.

Like that, the strange part-timer walked behind the counter.

“Well.”

I let out a deep breath as I drummed my fingers on the table.

“What’s up with that?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean. You know.”

“Do you not find her beautiful?”

“Ahem.”

I cleared my throat.

Another perfect chance to butter her up had appeared on a freshly served golden platter.

“There’s no woman whose beauty is greater than Miss Irene’s.”

“Is that so.”

Is that so, is that so, is that so, is that so.

The monster muttered underneath her breath, her eyes hazing out and unconcentrated.

Hm.

Pretty effective.

Squelch. Squelch. Squelch.

“Woah, that fast?”

“...Here… cough, urrrghh…. Cough, order…”

Clink.

A cup of coffee with a cute plate underneath it was placed on the table.

It was surprisingly well crafted, the colour was a pleasant deep brown and there was even a decoration of a cat made out of cream.

“...Enjoy…”

Squelch. Squelch. Squelch.

“Thank you!”

I called out to the part-timer, but I don’t think she heard me.

Coffee.

I wasn’t really a coffee guy. After having downed ten energy drinks in a span of five minutes during my college days, my body had somehow lost the ability to react to caffeine. There was also another effect of major heart problems, but that’s relatively minor.

“So–”

Ptui.

The monster, while locking eyes with me, unraveled her long, red tongue and spit into the drink.

Then, she stuck her finger into it and began swirling it around, mixing her saliva and the coffee together like some sort of demented barista.

“Drink it, Mirai.”

???

I almost let out a curse, but I held myself back.

“W-Well.”

“You don't want to?”

“I mean.”

“If you don’t want–”

Before she could finish speaking, I tightly closed my eyes and said a quick prayer. Then I snatched the cup with instantaneous speed and downed it one go.

If I die from poisoning.

Please forgive me, Mom!

Gulp.

Huh.

It was actually kind of…

“Tasty?”

“You read my mind.”

“You should get used to that taste, Mirai.”

“I already have.”

Aha ha ha aha ha aha ha ha…

The strange laughter flowed out of her mouth like blood.

And so, we departed from the even stranger cafe.

We walked around some more, holding hands. After my confession, the awkward weight that had been strangling my neck was released, and I was able to raise Irene’s affection some more.

“You know, Mirai.”

“Yes?”

“You remind me of a steak.”

“You have quite the imagination, Miss.”

First, I showed her around different places.

“This is a butcher shop. If you're hungry, you should eat something from here.”

“But I only want to eat you.”

“…”

“I want to cut you up into pretty pieces, Mirai.”

“You flatter me too much.”

Next, I brought her to a famous landmark in the general area.

“This is the dancing cow statue. It’s a statue of a dancing cow.

“Are you saying that I’m a cow?”

“I would never say that.”

I also brought her to a flower field.

“They say roses are symbolic of love, but I think they should be rebranded.”

“Do humans eat flowers?”

“Don’t you think a rebranding into a symbol of war would be pretty cool. Or, maybe, sex.”

“Do humans eat flowers?”

“What? No.”

Finally, we arrived at that bridge. I’ve never been the occult-type, but bad memories were associated with here.

Aha ha aha, aha ha ha…

I told her a funny joke, and she laughed.

A few moments later, she let go of my arm with a solemn expression. Then, she walked ahead with her hands clasped behind her back.

“Mirai.”

Her face was turned away from me, her hair fluttering in the soft breeze like streamers in the sky.

“Please be honest.”

“Of course.”

She turned her head slightly, displaying a sculpted side-profile. Her lips were slightly trembling.

“You know… I’m not very good at these types of things.”

She wrapped her fingers around each other, twisting and turning. In contrast, her dress was perfectly still, the stained color of blood now a golden shade in the setting sun.

“So… please, be honest.”

She turned to face me.

Her dark irises held a sense of melancholy.

“Was it all a lie…? Or do you truly.”

She closed her eyes, smiling gently.

“Do you truly think I’m pretty.”

She extended her long arm toward me, fingers outstretched.

“…”

For some reason.

My heart hurt.

I was reminded of something that I didn’t want to remember.

If I answer, then I’ll be crossing the rubicon river. No going back.