So, if there was a suspicious person lurking around, whom should one consult first?
Normally, the answer would be the police. But in the era of awakener, ordinary police officers—non-awakener—were of little use. If the suspect was an awakener, only another awakener could deal with them. Of course, the police did have special awakener units, but they couldn’t be dispatched lightly. They were trump cards, to be used only when there was no other choice.
So then, what to do? The answer was still “the police,” but when the issue involved awakener, cases often ended up in the hands of the Awakener Association.
The Association disliked scandals involving awakener coming to light, as they damaged public image. The government, too, wished to avoid stirring up anti-awakener sentiment, which could drive another mass exodus of awakener abroad—something they could never allow again. Such adult concerns aside, awakener were overwhelmingly the winners of this era. But still, public favor was something they wanted to keep.
Thus, thanks to the power of scandal-fearing adults, the suspicious man asking questions about Inari had been caught in less than a day… or so Inari heard the next morning from Yasuno.
“It seems he was a reporter specializing in scandals. He was snooping around your surroundings, Miss Kogami.”
“Scandal, hm. What did that word mean again?”
“A shocking event… for example, a lover being exposed.”
“Whether ’tis me or another, is that not something to be celebrated instead?”
“…It’s complicated.”
“Hmm. Well, the matter is resolved then?”
“Yes, it seems so.”
“That helps me greatly. He had been talking to children—had aught happened, ’twould have been too late.”
Since it was resolved, there was no further problem—for now. Inari was about to end the call when Yasuno asked her to wait.
“Hm? Was there aught else?”
“Yes. Related to this incident… would you consider moving into a safer, more secure residence?”
“That is true enough… If my presence worsens the peace, then I must consider it.”
The house Inari lived in now was borrowed from the Awakener Association. It was an ordinary home, meant as support for awakener with circumstances, not for someone like Inari who earned more than top-tier veterans in only a short time. In fact, it was deliberately minimal, as if to encourage ambition.
Normally, once awakener began earning, they upgraded to better housing. Someone like Inari, who had no interest whatsoever in improving her lifestyle, was not accounted for.
Her only “luxury” was furikake. Which hardly counted as luxury.
The Association, of course, saw her as a promising—indeed, very promising—newcomer. Yes, a newcomer still. They did not want to risk offending her with pushy requests. But then came this suspicious-person incident. The Association had mobilized en masse, sweeping Tokyo like a net and catching the scandal-hunting journalist in record speed. To be surrounded by swarms of awakener and taken in was sheer bad luck for him.
So now, Yasuno—under orders from her superiors—was recommending a new residence in earnest.
“In that case, perhaps I should simply move to Atami.”
“Please don’t do that!”
If the promising newcomer left Tokyo because she suggested a move, Yasuno’s career would be over. She would be writing apologies at best, reassigned at worst. She was nearly in tears.
“Please, within Tokyo. Much more convenient!”
“Yet still…”
“I—I have so many recommended listings for you! Tomorrow! Tomorrow morning, I’ll come myself! We’ll choose together! Okay!? Okay!?”
“U-um, very well.”
“Then it’s settled! Tomorrow morning, 9 o’clock sharp, I’ll be there!”
And the call ended. Inari, for her part, had no idea why Yasuno was so desperate. Still, a move within Tokyo was not bad. If the viewing was tomorrow, then she had nothing left to do today. Hearing the sound of rice finishing in the cooker, Inari headed happily to the kitchen.
“Fufu… perfectly cooked once again.”
It was an older, rather cheap rice cooker—an outdated model. But Inari thought instead, “How splendid, even better than the old cookers I knew.” She had never updated her knowledge of appliances. But leaving that aside—
She scooped the rice into a bowl, then took out her seaweed-egg flavored furikake.
Sprinkling it in, she stirred the rice briskly with the paddle. She was making mixed rice. Though this way lost the crispy crunch of freshly sprinkled furikake, the flavor soaked into the rice, offering a moist, rich taste. Furikake was always delicious with rice, no matter how eaten.
But she went one step further. She shaped the mixed rice into neat triangles and wrapped them lightly with nori.
Seaweed-egg furikake, plus seaweed—perfect harmony. Inari believed this was the ideal rice ball.
Of course, salt-only onigiri was also good, bringing out the flavor of the rice itself. But add furikake, and it was humanity’s wisdom added on top. There was no way it could taste bad.
She carried a large plate of them to the table, picked one up, and took a bite.
“…Delicious…”
That was all she could say. Such was the happy sight of Inari’s breakfast.