Once school was out, I hopped on my bicycle and headed straight for the
bookstore where I worked.
Our store was located right by Shibuya Station, and while many young
people came to browse our books, we also saw a lot of office workers and
people from the entertainment district during the week as well. Thanks to
the recent laws restricting overtime, our peak hours were usually between
six and eight PM. After that, however, things calmed back down, and the
number of workers decreased to around four for the late shift.
Two staff members took breaks at eight, and I was left alone with
Yomiuri for about an hour. She stifled a yawn at the cash register as I
pretended to put things in order on the sales floor and wandered around the
aisles searching for books.
First, I needed information about money, and it had to be accurate.
I picked up a few titles that looked reasonably simple on topics such as
economics, business, and the structure of capitalism. Their titles and
taglines looked similar, and it was hard to tell how they differed, but I
chose the ones that seemed most credible based on their author bios and
tables of contents.
I also picked up several magazines with high-paying want ads. I could
have checked for similar information online using my phone, but I wanted
to avoid any shady deals.
Of course, just because a classified ad was placed in a reputable
magazine didn't guarantee that it was legitimate. I was pretty sure all it did
was make me feel better, but that was something.
…Okay.
I'd gathered a pile of books and magazines that seemed to have the
information I was looking for and was heading to the cash register when
someone poked me in the shoulder.
"Hey, you shouldn't be browsing books for yourself while you're on
the clock."
It was Yomiuri.
"Oh, sorry," I said.
"Just kidding. It's no problem. No one follows rules like that. Even the
manager sets aside books for himself while he's working. As long as you
use common sense and aren't unfairly hogging new releases that everyone
wants or works by popular authors that sell out, it should be fine."
Yomiuri slapped me on the shoulder and laughed merrily.
Compared with what you might expect from her graceful, quiet, bookish appearance, Yomiuri was an easygoing, lighthearted person. She
once told me she'd been popular with the guys when she started college,
but that popularity had dwindled when she went out drinking and they
caught a glimpse of her true nature. She said she wished people wouldn't
take for granted that she was pure and innocent.
"I can't help it if my dark hair and face make me look meek. I was just
born this way."
I can still remember her sulky expression as she played around with the
tips of her hair. Most guys clearly expected all flirty girls to dye their hair
and wear heavy makeup, and I could understand why she didn't like the
social pressure to dress a certain way.
Now that Ayase, a girl who was Yomiuri's opposite in a sense, had
become my stepsister, I could understand her feelings even better.
Humanity really needed to give up on stereotypes.
"So, Yuuta. What are you buying?"
"Please don't look."
"That's some reaction! Don't tell me it's porn."
"That's way too bold for a guy like me with a brand-new stepsister…
and I'm too young to buy X-rated books anyway."
"Then let me see them… Gotcha!"
"Oh crap!"
She'd grabbed the pile of books from me at lightning speed.
"Hmm. Hmm… Hmm?"
As Yomiuri looked at the covers one by one, a strange expression
appeared on her face.
"I didn't know you were so serious about your future," she said. "Out
to make a lot of money?"
"Y-you've got it all wrong," I said immediately, afraid she'd start
teasing me.
I didn't think it would be right to share anything about Ayase, so I
decided to leave her name out of my explanation.
"I want to move out and get my own place as soon as I graduate high
school, so I need to start saving money."
"Isn't one part-time job enough?"
Her opinion was perfectly valid.
"Well, um, no. I work here because I love books, but the pay isn't all
that great."
"Oh. I guess you have a point."
"I have a stepsister now, and I've started feeling like I can't just stick
around. I don't want to be a burden on her."
"Oh, really?"
Yomiuri's tone and expression remained unchanged, but her response
sounded skeptical.
"You aren't convinced?" I asked.
"I understand why you'd want to move out, but I don't believe you
about your sister being the reason," she said seriously.
I froze. I'd simply been relating Ayase's argument as if it was my own,
and I was caught unawares.
"Isn't it simply a matter of how I feel?" I asked.
"I wasn't denying your feelings. I just think they're unreasonable."
"You don't think my reasoning is valid?"
"It just seems like a waste."
"Huh?"
I blinked. I hadn't expected her to say something like that.
"You said you don't want to be a burden," she said, "…but if that's
really how you feel, I don't think you'll be able to make a lot of money, no
matter how many of these books you read."
"You've lost me. Can you take me through that again, step by step?"
"Having a sister your age is actually an asset. And living without
depending on others is like trying to do things with your hands and feet
tied."
She spoke bluntly, but her words were strangely piercing.
Ayase was the one who wanted to live without depending on Dad or
me, but since I'd sympathized with her, Yomiuri's words really hit me.
"Yuuta, why do you think we need money?" she asked.
"Well, we need it to live."
"You think so?"
"Is this a Zen question? All right, then. We need money for food,
shelter, and clothes."
That was how capitalism worked.
"Hmm, okay. Then to take an extreme example, will a baby die if it
can't make money?"
"That is extreme."
"Babies survive, even without working for a living."
"They still need parental protection, though."
"Right. They have help… Can't the same thing be true for adults?"
"Whoa. No, of course not."
Society would collapse if everyone started asking for help. Society
functioned because adults protected their children, made money, and
supported themselves.
"But these days, more and more people want to be babies," Yomiuri
pointed out.
"Isn't that judging society based on only a small group?" I countered.
It was true that I'd seen posts here and there on social media with
people treating cartoon characters like their mothers or transparently
wishing they could go back to being a baby. Still, not all adults were like
that…or so I hoped. Could I be wrong?
"I'm not saying it's universal, of course," she said, "but when you see
posts like that going viral, you have to assume a fair number of people feel
the same way."
"Well…I guess you have a point."
"We all start out as babies. But once we're adults, we're suddenly
pushed away and told we have to start acting differently. Isn't that cruel?"
"…I suppose so."
"This is another extreme example, but as long as someone provides us
with food, clothes, and a place to live, we can still survive even without
money, right?"
"Like a kind of nonmonetary basic income?"
"Wow! You're a real man of the world."
"Stop it."
I wished Yomiuri wouldn't treat me like a kid dying to use a fancy
phrase he'd just learned.
That phrase, by the way—basic income—referred to a government
regularly distributing a certain amount of money to its citizens. I'd read
about it in a book that Yomiuri had suggested to me. There was really no
need for her to tease me about it.
She laughed it off and told me not to worry so much.
"I think it's okay to depend on someone if you can't survive alone,"
she said.
"Even if you're a burden to them?"
"Some people say they like those kinds of women."
"Everyone has their own preferences."
"I suppose you aren't like that."
"…I don't know."