[Novel] The God of the Little Finger - ⑤ Distance b/w little finger and Kami-sama
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We then made it a habit to meet every week, and little by little, we closed the distance between us.
Linking middle fingers, crossing fingers, intertwining hands—slowly, in that way.
Kakeru patiently kept the rally going, matching my pace. He had the confidence that if this were a five-set match, he had already taken two sets, and since he would eventually win by outlasting me, there was no need to rush.
I was drawn to that arrogance. Regardless of whether it was right or wrong, it was an incredibly easy-to-understand strength.
The sun, which had stood straight when we first met, had now forgotten its heat and was tilting above the pampas grass. Shadows had begun to appear in the air as well.
And even without trying to know, we knew. That we were seeking each other.
I had plans to meet him again this afternoon, and the moment I opened my closet to decide what to wear, my phone rang.
It was my mother. I had no choice but to stop what I was doing, head to the living room, turn on the TV, and answer the call.
Riko, it's Mom. You're okay to talk right now, right?
I switched the audio from her voice to that of a reporter covering the Garden Festa at Hibiya Park, admiring the autumn flowers on the screen. Near the fountain, pigeons were flocking.
Seeing them flap their wings, I thought about migratory birds. Birds fly tens of thousands of kilometers, sometimes even while sleeping.
My bosses (migratory birds) were also sleeping soundly, lying on full-flat beds in first class.
Then, as it cut to a car commercial, I saw the accountant (Kakeru) driving at full speed in an off-road vehicle (LAND CRUISER).
My little finger said, "It's a surreal sight, isn't it?" as it left a red balloon (me) floating alone in mid-air.
I couldn't help but let out a stifled laugh, to which my mother retorted, "Riko, are you even listening?! You're always so absent-minded, you really are hopeless," and continued.
It's about time you put an end to the matter regarding Kozue-san.
Seven years after a relative's life or death becomes unknown, one can file for a declaration of disappearance. Once certified, death is confirmed, and the inheritance process begins.
— This year, it's been exactly seven years.
If I were acknowledged, everything would belong to my mother, the only child. Knowing her, she would sell everything off—the mansion, the kimonos, even the nostalgic atmosphere.
Thinking that, the scent of the moss growing in Kozue-san's garden suddenly passed through my nostrils. I could hear my heart shrinking.
As I began to tremble, Kami-sama tried to shut my mother out by saying, 'I have an appointment with someone from work,' but she tried to pry further, asking, 'Who is it? Is it a man?' so I deflected by saying, 'It's my boss, it's basically work. I'm going to be late,' and hung up the phone.
Then, I turned off the TV and endured the uncontrollable trembling in silence for several minutes.
Tired of waiting, the little finger snapped its finger. When I came to my senses and hurriedly tried to change, Kami-sama said quietly.
You'll make it in time,
it's fine,
wear the dress.
The little finger frowned.
Isn't that a bit
too obvious?
In the end, I chose a slightly casual white pullover from ROPÉ and a deep green long skirt.
Both Kami-sama and the little finger seemed satisfied with that choice, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Their relationship was contradictory. The little finger found Kami-sama, who had moved in uninvited, to be a nuisance, and Kami-sama was dissatisfied that a big shot like himself was stuck inside a small fry.
Even so, to coexist, they spent many years maintaining a balance where one would stay silent when the other spoke, and when their opinions differed, they would leave the decision to me.
It's not like
we don't get along, always.
When Kami-sama muttered that, the little finger nodded, and suddenly they began to sing a duet of Skeeter Davis's 'The End of the World,' a song about heartbreak as if the world were ending.
It's a beautiful melody, but it's not the kind of lyrics you'd hum when you're feeling down, let alone before going on a date.
After letting out a sigh for the three of us, I grabbed my umbrella and bag and left the house at a brisk pace.
