The Woman Who Reads, Episode 3: Power Stones Are Just Stones

"You're Mari, aren't you? I just had a feeling."
I pause my hand, just for a second, as I reach for the glass. I can tell pretty much everything from the temperature of that "I guessed right" voice.

"That's right."
I smile after a brief pause. Making them feel like they got it right is part of the job.

A string of stones was wrapped around the man's wrist. Some transparent, some cloudy, some black as if they were absorbing the light. I don't know if there's any meaning to the arrangement, but at the very least, he has the look of someone who believes there is.

The wrists of people who want to show something off are always turned slightly outward. It looks like an unconscious angle, but it's usually calculated.

"Can you tell what these are?"
The man showed off his wrist casually. He meant for it to look casual, but he placed it at an angle where it was clearly visible.
"They're Himalayan stones."

"Oh, that's amazing."
Before I lift my glass, I add a little more water. I can usually read the length of a conversation by how much the ice has melted.
Whether to end it before it melts too much, or to lead into another drink. Which way it goes is decided in the first three minutes.
Conversations that aren't decided in the first three minutes usually don't go anywhere.
Conversely, once a conversation is decided, no matter how many words you add later, the flow won't change.

"Don't you think the temperature is different?"
The man says. I bring my fingertips close for just a moment, then nod.

"It certainly does feel a little cold."
Whether I'm right or not is irrelevant. Conversations of this type progress more by feel than by accuracy.

"I knew you were someone who would understand."
The man smiled, looking satisfied.
"When you touch them, you can tell who has good flow. Their wavelength, so to speak."

"Is that so?"

"In the end, it's all about flow. Even in business."
He said it lightly. He meant to say it lightly, and his chin lifted slightly as he did.

"But there are people who have flow and people who don't, right?"

"That's true."

"That's where the sense comes in. And the resolve."
He sounds like he's talking about luck, but he's been talking about himself the whole time. This type is easy to read. Because they already have their own answers.

"I really understand that."
I tilt my glass slightly.
"There are only a limited number of people who can properly grab hold of the flow when it comes, aren't there?"
The man's eyes soften just a little. From the way they soften, I can tell how far I'm allowed to step in.
What's needed in a situation like this isn't new words. It's taking the words the other person already has, polishing them a little, and giving them back.

"I think you're someone who understands, Mari."

"Not at all."

As I say that, I don't change the position of my smile. I deny it. But I don't pull back. Just by doing that, the other person will come closer on their own.

"No, you definitely do."
The man said confidently.
"I just felt like we clicked from the start."
I let that "from the start" comment slide. We almost never click from the start. We just adjust to each other little by little.
Not letting them notice that you are adjusting.
That is most of this job.

The ice in the glass breaks with a perfect sound. The temperature of the conversation has dropped to about the same level.
"That's a nice stone."
I cast my eyes down at the bracelet once more.

"Right?"
The man smiles with satisfaction.
Himalayan stone.
That phrase alone bothered me just a little.
I don't know why. It just didn't process as easily as the other words.
Names of distant places usually seem a little bit authentic.
But I remained unable to tell where that "little bit" actually lay.

Even after that, the conversation didn't falter.
Topics flowed, returned, and flowed again. I laughed when necessary and stayed silent when necessary. Before I knew it, the bottle was empty.
The reason it emptied is written nowhere. Even so, the fact that it emptied remains.

I had never missed.
At least, that's what I thought.

After the shop closed, I went into a bar a little ways away with Kaoru-san. The lighting was low, and only the rims of the glasses were strangely bright. Music was playing, but it existed only to the extent that it didn't interfere with our conversation.

"Kaoru-san. Thank you for the treat today."
I say, turning my body slightly. The seat I was called to earlier was one of her customers'.

Kaoru-san said, keeping her elbows on the counter.
"How was it?"

"He was an easy type."
I take a sip of my whiskey. The sound of the ice rings out a moment later.

"Right?"
Kaoru-san laughed briefly.
"You like that kind of person, don't you?"

"I don't dislike them."

"Because they're easy to guess, right?"
Her words sting just a little.

"...I'm trying to guess them."
Even so, I had no memory of missing.

"Yeah. But you know,"
Kaoru-san swirled her glass lightly.
"You had a look on your face like you were reading him."

The way she said it was soft, yet there was no escape. I said nothing and watched the ice melt.
I look up.
"Does it show?"

"It shows."
It was an immediate reply.
"People who know, know."

"Yes."

"Mari-chan."
She calls my name. It was a different way of keeping distance than before.
"Your service today wasn't bad."

"...Thank you very much."

"But,"
There is a slight pause.
"Our job isn't just about the customers."
I look up.

"The other girls and the staff. You have to worry about the eyes of those on the inside, too..."
Kaoru-san caught her breath slightly there.
"In the end, it's yourself. If you can't come to terms with yourself, you'll fall apart. Mari-chan, you have a tendency to be a bit extreme, so it worries me."

She says nothing more. Without saying anything, she puts her glass to her lips.
I lowered my gaze.
Himalayan stone.
Only those words still remain.
"...Do you think that person's stone is real?"
I ask, pretending it's nothing.

Kaoru-san thought for just a moment, then said.
"A stone is just a stone, isn't it?"
She says the obvious, as if it were obvious. Her answer, free of hesitation, strips away the unnecessary.
"But"
The words that followed were just a little delayed.

"For those who believe, it becomes real."

The sound of the glass being set down echoes softly.
I nodded.
I think I understand, but a small part remains that I don't.