Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Ooh, over there!”

Toriko pointed to the shattered stump of a concrete support pillar. An artifact stood atop it, like it had been placed there on purpose.

It was a small desktop mirror. Depending the angle they viewed the mirror from, the scenery around them was reflected either as in the middle of a wildfire or as if the whole area was deep underwater. Sorawo parked the AP-1 nearby, and the two of them dismounted.

“I had a feeling there would be something around here!” Toriko announced.

“You said that about every place we checked today, and this is the first time we’ve actually found anything.”

“Shush.”

They approached the pillar. Sorawo scanned the horizon — seeing something valuable planting on the pillar like some kind of podium, it felt like the bait for a trap.

She saw nothing laying in wait for them, so she reached into her nail bag and plucked out a bolt to check for glitches. She tossed it towards the pillar, and it vanished into the grass without anything obviously happening. Toriko bounded forward to grab the mirror.

“…Wait. Stop!” Sorawo called. She could have sworn, just for a split second, that she caught a glimpse of silver through the sunlight.

Toriko skidded to a halt as she threw another bolt, aiming it a little closer. It passed through the area without melting, exploding, or shooting off into space. For a moment, Sorawo thought she had been imagining things, but when the bolt landed, it was clear that something about it had changed.

It compressed when it hit the ground and bounced, the metal surface wobbling like a water balloon in mid air. It rebounded off the ground once more before coming to a rest, still jiggling.

Toriko took a step back. “Whoa, that’s a new one. Nice catch!” she declared in English, flashing Sorawo a thumbs up.

“Yeah…” she replied. That had been way too close.

A little more experimentation revealed the extents of the glitch, and they were able to safely retrieve the mirror. Sorawo wrapped it in a fabric shopping bag, catching one last look at her ash stained face amid a burning world before she tucked it onto the AP-1 for the ride home.

“That one’s probably worth a bunch, right?” asked Toriko. “Any idea what you’re going to spend your cut on?”

Sorawo thought about it. Now that she had a salary coming in for overseeing the farm, she wasn’t really desperate for cash, but expenses for expanding their foothold on the Otherside added up quick.

“Maybe some of that really nice camping stuff we were looking at the other day? What about you?”

Toriko put a hand on her chin. “Well, I dunno. I don’t think one artifact will cover this, but I’ve been wondering — should we have some more vehicles for over here?”

Sorawo shrugged. “I’m kind of attached to the AP-1, honestly.”

“No, the AP-1 is great! But if we ever needed to get somewhere fast , something smaller would probably be useful too, right?”

That was true enough. The modified AP-1 was faster than walking, but if they had an emergency, like someone getting stranded and needing rescue, ten kilometres per hour might be a little leisurely.

“Fair. Should we go checking out models this weekend?”

“Sure thing — it’s a date!”

“It is not.”

The remainder of the trip back passed quickly, and soon Toriko and Sorawo stepped out of the elevator at Jinbouchou, the mirror bundled up in Sorawo’s bag. They were just entering the station when Toriko’s phone buzzed, and she pulled it out to check.

“Ah,” she said.

“What’s up?”

“Oh, someone… I need to do something,” said Toriko. “Right now. Will you be fine trading in the mirror yourself?”

“I’m not a little kid, you know. What’s so urgent, though?”

“Oh, it’s not a big deal, just, you know… a school thing.”

Sorawo wasn’t sure she could make it sound less like a ‘school thing’ if she tried, but if Toriko didn’t want to tell her, then whatever. She guessed it wasn’t her business. Even if she did want to know just who someone was referring to.

“Sure, you go do that. Is it fine if I drop your cut off tomorrow?”

“No problem! So, uh, see you later!”

Toriko rushed off to another train nearby — the same train Sorawo would have gotten on if she were heading straight back to Saitama. Obviously, it went to plenty of other places too, so it was probably just a coincidence. Sorawo took a seat on her own train, headed to the station near Kozakura’s neighbourhood.

Sorawo had her hand halfway to Kozakura’s doorbell when her voice crackled over the speaker.

“Come in.”

Sorawo supposed she must have been glancing at the camera feed right as she showed up.

She slipped her shoes off at the entrance and headed for Kozakura’s room, lifting the strange mirror out of her bag. Kozakura wheeled her chair around to face her as she entered, sipping her cola and glaring at her.

Why did she always need to give her that look, like Sorawo showing up meant trouble? Sure, there had been that one time… and that other time, and…

Okay, yeah. But this time everything was fine! She smiled diplomatically, holding up the wrapped artifact.

Kozakura sighed. “Yeah, Toriko messaged me that you found something. Let’s see it.”

She unwrapped the mirror and carefully placed it on the table. Kozakura came over to examine it.

She stared at the mirror, watching her home crumble into ashes around her. “This… why do half the things you two pick up there have to be so freaky?”

“Ah,” said Sorawo. “Sorry about that, it changes based on how you look at it.”

She turned the mirror slightly, so that it instead showed the room completely flooded. The light from Kozakura’s monitors was absent, as if they had broken down in the water, and Kozakura’s hair drifted around her as she stared ahead with vacant eyes. A handful of tiny bubbles escaped her mouth.

“Oh yeah, that’s so much better, thanks.”

“No problem.”

Kozakura’s eye twitched. “Whatever. Sit down, and cover that thing back up. I’ll go get your money.”

Sorawo complied, tossing the shopping bag back over the mirror. Kozakura walked off, returning a minute later with an envelope and, to Sorawo’s surprise, a small platter with a teapot and a cup. She set it down on the table in front of her, and placed the envelope of cash next to it.

“Well, go ahead.”

“Uh, thanks,” Sorawo said, pouring herself some tea. “What’s the occasion?”

“There isn’t one. I just feel like I’ll regret it if I don’t act like a good host for you girls at least a couple times.”

Kozakura’s eyes lingered on the envelope as she spoke, before picking her mug back up and having a drink. Sorawo sipped her tea uncomfortably.

“Is this about the Otherside?”

Kozakura’s grip on her mug tightened. “Of course it’s about the Otherside!” she snapped. “It’s always about the Otherside with you two! Toriko told me she almost ran into a glitch, you know? All casual, like it was just a fun thing that happened to her today.” 

“Ah,” Sorawo replied. Yeah, that didn’t seem like something Kozakura would take well. She was sure Toriko hadn’t meant to scare her, but…

“One of these days you two are going to go there and at least one of you isn’t coming back, and here I am paying for you to endanger yourselves like this.”

Sorawo looked down at the table. At least one of you, huh? Honestly, the thought scared her more than if it was both of them. It had all worked out today, but she couldn’t afford to start getting careless, no matter how used they got to exploring over there.

She looked up at Kozakura, who was scowling into her cola. There was something that had been on Sorawo’s mind for a while, but she supposed if there was ever a time to ask…

“Not to give you any ideas,” she said, “but if you’re so opposed, why do you keep buying these from us?”

Originally, she was sure, paying a bounty for Otherside relics had made perfect sense. The DS Lab had been dedicated to studying the other world, and had researchers on staff who specialized in examining the weird things they found there. Now, though, most of the staff was dedicated to caring for the surviving Fourth Kinds, the researchers either gone or in no state to continue their work. Didn’t they just lock these things up in cases, anyway?

Kozakura sighed. “Don’t think I haven’t thought of it. It might be possible for me to convince Migiwa that we don’t need any more of these things. In the end, though… that wouldn’t matter, would it? You’d still go.”

Her response didn’t have the tone of an accusation, and her face lacked its usual irate expression. In its place, she looked… sad. A tired and distant look that made her look much older than she was. Sorawo couldn’t bring herself to meet her eyes as she responded.

“Well…”

It wasn’t like the money wasn’t a factor. There was no part time job she could think of that would pay so much — no legal job, certainly, though she supposed that part didn’t matter when she had taken to carrying a gun with her. Moreover, she may never have agreed to go kunekune hunting with Toriko had there not been a cool 500,000 yen in it for her.

But it also wasn’t like she started exploring that world to make a profit. She went to the Otherside because it was hers, a world all to herself to wander as she pleased. It… hadn’t worked out that way exactly, of course — she had almost been killed on her first real trip, and had almost never gone alone since. But even if she hadn’t gotten quite what she wanted, what she had gotten instead was…

The closest kind of relationship in the world.

Toriko. Every day she spent exploring with Toriko was precious and irreplaceable. Sorawo couldn’t imagine life without her, and their life together began and blossomed with the Otherside. It was dangerous, sure. She herself had wanted to call it quits more than once. But every time, they overcame that danger. Every time, it felt like it brought them even closer.

Sorawo had never expected much from life — she had more or less expected to just quietly vanish one day, just as she almost had. What she had gotten to experience instead was something she would never had imagined.

She smiled despite herself, Kozakura fixing her with a renewed scowl.

“Yeah. I guess I would.”

“That’s what I thought,” Kozakura sighed. “And, that being the case… the best way to postpone your inevitable demise seems to be providing you with the resources you need to survive over there, right?”

It definitely didn’t hurt — most of the money they had gotten recently went straight back into preparing for their expeditions, and several of the purchases had already come in handy.

“I see,” she said. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me, just… just don’t die, okay?”

Sorawo nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

“I suppose that’s the best I’m getting.” Kozakura looked back at the clock on her computer monitor. “Anyway, I’ve held you up for long enough now, you can get out of my house whenever.”

The way she said long enough felt strange somehow, and Sorawo wasn’t sure if she meant something specific by it. She had barely finished half her cup of tea, but she supposed she’d done what she came here to do. She thanked Kozakura for her business, grabbed the money off the table, and headed for the door.

Once she was on the train, she shot Toriko a message telling her she had gotten their money. Toriko was normally prompt to receive her messages, but a few minutes later it was still unread. Maybe she was still busy with whatever, or whomever, had required her attention.

Well, Sorawo guessed it was none of her business. She wasn’t sure why she was even so curious.

She checked once more when she got to her stop — still nothing. She began the walk back to her apartment. She wondered if she stop by the store for something to eat, but decided she would probably just order something for delivery.

It was evening when she approached home, the light rapidly dimming around her as the sun set. She walked up to her door, turned her key in the lock, and then froze.

It was unlocked.

Had she forgotten to lock up this morning? No way. Ever since the incident with room 103, she had been downright paranoid about keeping her door secure at all times. But if she hadn’t…

Her hand twitched towards her bag, but she stopped herself. There were very things she wanted less than to get into a firefight in her apartment. Should she call someone? No… she didn’t want to go crying wolf if it turned out she had just been distracted in the morning, and Toriko was still busy with whatever anyway. She adjusted her bag to be within easy reach, looked side to side to ensure there were no neighbours watching.

She turned the handle, as quietly as possible, and pushed the door open just enough to peer inside. It was dark, and a cursory glance with her right eye revealed no glimmer of silver. Maybe she really had forgotten? That, or been targeted by a regular old robber.

They would have been disappointed to find that the most valuable things she kept at home were antique books on true ghost stories.

She stepped carefully inside, keeping her face to the room as she closed the door behind her. Her left hand reached for the light switch, while her right hovered over her bag. She flicked the lights on.

“Surprise~!”

Bangs, shouts, and a flurry of motion sent Sorawo stumbling back against her door, hand reaching halfway into her bag as her right eye began to focus on the nearest movement, expecting an otherworldly silver.

Instead, she saw… gold?

Golden hair. Blue eyes. Toriko stood in the middle of her apartment, at the centre of a swirling cloud of confetti released from the popper in her hands. Sorawo forced her eyes shut, before she accidentally focused too hard with her right eye.

When she opened them, she saw that Akari and Natsumi were standing there as well, off to either side. Both of them looked a little uncomfortable, presumably noticing her reaction. Toriko demonstrated no such awareness.

“Happy birthday, Sorawo!”

Huh?

Right, that was today. Sorawo couldn’t remember if she had ever actually told Toriko that, but she had clearly learned it from somewhere. The people she had needed to meet with today must have been the two other girls, so they could all come to her apartment and stage a surprise party.

She was livid. She pulled herself away from the door, standing unsteadily, and glared at Toriko, whose grin did not falter.

“Why the hell would you jump out at me like that?! I almost s—“ Sorawo choked on the word shot when she remembered that Natsumi was there. “You almost gave me a heart attack,” she substituted.

“Nah, it’s okay!” Toriko said cheerfully. “I know you would never hurt me.”

Natsumi sidled over to Akari and nudged her side. “Hey,” she whispered, “are those two having the same conversation?”

“Haha…” said Akari, eyeing Sorawo’s bag. “I guess they just know each other very well…?”

After having a chance to calm down, and a few minutes of quiet argument that resulted in a halfhearted concession that maybe Toriko shouldn’t leap out of the darkness at a paranoid woman who carried an illegal firearm, Sorawo received the full story.

The plan had begun a few weeks ago, when Sorawo had needed to present her ID at a restaurant. She didn’t think she looked especially young, but maybe they had thought her eye seemed like the kind of fashion statement that a teenager would make. Toriko had caught a glimpse of the date, and decided she should arrange a celebration.

Essentially everyone Sorawo knew had been in on it, which admittedly was not that many people. It had been Kozakura’s job to hold her up while Toriko and the others went to her apartment and had Migiwa unlock the door for them. He hadn’t stuck around, though he had left behind a small box for her, wrapped in plain paper.

That they had found the mirror while they were exploring the Otherside was a happy accident, the original plan was for Kozakura to suddenly call and need her help with something. The woman herself would be arriving later — ‘if she felt like it’, at least.

“So, what do you think?” asked Toriko.

Sorawo sighed. Ambush aside, it... wasn't bad. She wasn't much of a party person, but four people wasn't much of a party, either. The colourful decorations they had strung up looked out of place in her drab apartment, but Toriko was doing her utmost to lift the whole atmosphere with her enthusiasm, and Sorawo couldn't say it wasn't working. She took a sip of one of the beers they had brought with them.

“I’ll be finding bits of confetti around this place for years, you know?”

Toriko laughed, as if it had nothing to do with her. “Yeah, probably.”

She smiled despite herself. “Well, I guess it’s fine.”

“Woohoo!” Toriko exclaimed, triumphantly thrusting her own beer into the air. Sorawo wondered if it was normal for other people to be more excited about her birthday than she was.

They continued chatting for a short while, before Akari called for their attention. Kozakura had sent word that she was on her way, which meant that it was time to start on dinner.

“Oh,” said Sorawo, “you’re making something for us, Akari? You don’t have to go to the trouble…”

Akari waved her off with a smile. “Don’t worry about it, Senpai! I like cooking, and this is the least I can do to repay you for always looking out for me.”

Always seemed like a very generous assessment when Sorawo kind of pretended that she didn’t exist most of the time. If that was how she interpreted it, though, there was no need to correct her. “In that case, thank you very much.”

“No problem. Say, Nishina-senpai, would you mind lending me a hand too?”

“Me?” Toriko asked, looking puzzled. A moment later a look flashed across her face like she had realized something, and she smiled widely. “Yeah, definitely!”

What had her so excited? Toriko had never expressed a particular interest in cooking, though Sorawo supposed she had never gone out of her way to ask.

Akari had brought the ingredients she needed, as well as dishes and utensils — excellent foresight in both cases, as Sorawo rarely cooked for herself and didn’t actually own much kitchen equipment. She did most of the work herself, but Toriko fluttered around doing whatever was asked of her as the smell of home-made food began to fill the apartment.

Sorawo felt awkward about just standing around and gawking while other people cooked for her, but realistically her kitchen was barely big enough for one person, let alone three. Seeking a distraction, she looked to the other person in the apartment.

Natsumi was leaning against the wall, holding her drink as she watched Akari cooking with a gentle smile. It was a look Sorawo hadn’t seen from her before, giving a pretty different look to the punkish mechanic. She didn’t seem to notice Sorawo at all.

“You two are pretty close, huh?”

“Huh?!” Natsumi startled. She really had been off in her own little world. “Well… yeah. Maybe not as far as you and Nishina-san yet, but…”

Whoa, whoa, whoa. “Me and… Toriko?”

“Yes?” Natsumi said, as if she’d just asked kind of a stupid question. “I mean, you two tried giving us all way too much information at the love hotel party, and that was already months ago…”

“Oh. Hold on, there’s still a misunderstanding here. Toriko was just…”

“Look, I don’t want to be rude,” she interrupted, “but I’m not actually interested in hearing more about your sex life. I shouldn’t have brought it up, sorry.”

Her sex life? Okay, this misunderstanding had gone way out of control… or, rather, she supposed this was exactly what people were going to assume when Toriko told them they had gone to a love hotel on Christmas Eve, and Sorawo had chipped in by saying a fair bit had happened.

And, wait, what did she mean by yet?

 Sorawo stared at the floor, wondering if there was any way to salvage this situation. As she had long suspected, initiating conversations with other human beings was a dire mistake. Before she could come up with anything, Natsumi spoke again.

“Say, Kamikoshi-san?”

“Yeah?” Sorawo replied. Please don’t be another misunderstanding, please don’t—

“I don’t want to ask anything that will get me into trouble, but… that inked guy who let us into the apartment, he was totally yakuza, right? Just what kind of people do you hang out with?”

There was a hint of accusation in her tone, like her real question was ‘what kind of people are you exposing Akari to?’ Sorawo, appreciating the opportunity to move the conversation literally anywhere else, did her best to act like it wasn’t a completely valid concern.

“Oh, Migiwa? He kind of does give that impression, right? He’s on the up and up, though, don’t worry about it.”

It wasn’t a lie, really. Migiwa had… definitely done some things in his past, but the DS Lab was a perfectly legitimate business. Even if legitimate businesses didn’t tend to operate out of secret basements underneath a front company. Or get involved in firefights with cults. Or imprison a teenage girl for an indefinite term without any legal authority. Natsumi didn’t need to sweat the details.

Besides, Runa had kind of had it coming.

Natsumi looked at her for a moment, and then shrugged. “Well, if you say so. I guess you gotta be kind of an oddball to be doing paranormal investigation, so it makes sense that there are some real characters.”

Sorawo stared at her. Was this woman looking for a fight, or what?

Seemingly oblivious to the fact that she had said anything rude, Natsumi returned to gazing fondly at Akari.

Well, whatever. Sorawo looked back at the kitchen, smiling as she watched Toriko do her best as an assistant. She wondered if it was the same kind of smile Natsumi gave to Akari.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. Even though it had been a few months, she couldn’t help but flinch. She made sure to check the peephole before opening the door, despite knowing they were expecting someone.

It was indeed Kozakura. Sorawo opened the door for her.

“Hey, long time no see.”

“Funny,” she replied, stepping inside. Her expression softened. “Smells nice in here. They’re really pulling out the stops for you, huh?”

She wasn’t wrong. The delicious smell was almost unbearable, and Sorawo was starving. The last time she had ate Akari’s food it had been pretty good, but she got the sense now that she hadn’t been trying all that hard on that occasion.

Akari gave a friendly wave from the kitchen. “Kozakura-san, good timing!” she said. “Everything is just about ready.”

Everything seemed like an apt, descriptor, as they began moving it all to Sorawo’s table. How had they even made so much, so quickly? Sorawo attempted to help carry it all, only to have another drink pressed into her hand and be shooed towards the table.

Her friends sat down around her with their own drinks, looking hungrily at the steaming food laid out on the table. Toriko was the first to hold out her beer in front of her.

“To Sorawo!” she said. “Cheers!”

“Cheers!” the rest of the table echoed, putting their drinks together. From there, dinner was on.

The food, as Sorawo had expected, was well beyond the little dinner Akari had made for them once before. It was simple enough, a collection of light dishes for them all to share, but the taste was exquisite.

“Sorawo!” said Toriko beside her, holding up a small dumpling with her chopsticks. “Come on, open up!”

She stared at it, hovering centimetres from her face. “What am I, five?”

“I sometimes wonder…” she heard Kozakura mutter as she looked at the two of them. Just what was that supposed to mean?

“Come ooooonnn…” Toriko pleaded. “I made these just for you!”

Sorawo felt everyone at the table watching her expectantly. Not wanting to cause more of a scene, she reluctantly opened her mouth and accepted the dumpling. Her eyes widened.

“Oh, that’s pretty good!”

“Yep,” said Toriko proudly. “That’s because it was made with love!”

Sorawo gave her a skeptical look.

“And… maybe Akari helped a little. But just a little.”

Sorawo rolled her eyes and grabbed another dumpling with her own chopsticks.

“You know, Seto-chan,” said Kozakura, speaking with her mouth full, “this really is all quite impressive.”

“Ah,” she said, “it’s really not that big a deal… I’m just in the Cooking Research Society, so…”

“Really now? Pursuing extracurricular activities like that is a good call. You only get so many years to experiment with that sort of thing, you know — a couple of delinquents I happen to know could learn a thing or two from you.”

“Wow,” said Toriko, “I didn’t know you had any friends other than us, Kozakura.”

Sorawo choked on her beer.

Before long, the group had finished around half the food on the table. There was an impressive amount, but with five people it felt a lot less daunting than when Toriko was allowed to order for the two of them. They had all cracked open more drinks, and Sorawo was beginning to feel them.

“Hey Kamikoshi-san,” said Natsumi, leaning over the table towards her.

“Yeah?”

“Where do you order your contacts from?”

“My… contacts?”

“Uh, yeah. The blue ones. I was wondering about trying out some other colour sometime.”

“Really?” asked Akari. “I think your eyes are pretty though, Nattsun.”

Natsumi looked back at her. “Aww, thank—“

“Ichikawa-san?” Sorawo interrupted them. “This… isn’t a contact, you know?”

She had seen Sorawo use her eye before, hadn’t she? Or, well… thinking about it, Sorawo wasn’t sure if her eye actually did anything when she used it. She had always kind of assumed it looked cool somehow, but the only times she had ever looked in a mirror with it she hadn’t been focusing on herself. Actually, what would even happen if she did that? Would she drive herself crazy?

“Wow, you serious?” asked Natsumi, distracting Sorawo from her tangent. “Freaky.”

Freaky? Sorawo tried her best not to look indignant. “Well, I guess it’s not exactly normal, but… you’ve seen Toriko’s hand, right?”

Natsumi looked over at Toriko’s gloved hand, as if she wasn’t actually sure. Her eyes widened. “Ah, crap, yeah! There was a lot that happened that night, so I guess it kind of slipped my mind, but… just what the hell happened to you two?”

Sorawo thought for a moment. She absolutely did not want to explain the Otherside to Natsumi — it was bad enough that Akari kept inserting herself into troublesome situations, they didn’t need anyone else in the know about it.

“Well, it’s a long story,” she settled on. “It was an… accident, when me and Toriko were just starting out.”

“Oh, so like, you got attacked by a ghost or something, and that’s what motivated you to become paranormal investigators?” Natsumi filled in her own version of their backstory. “That’s kind of cool, like characters from a story or something.”

“Something like that,” she acknowledged. Natsumi’s version reflected a lot better on them than the reality, that they had deliberately gotten themselves into a fight with an Otherside entity for money. “Anyway,” she continued, hoping to move conversation away from the Otherside, “I actually do have a place I get colour contacts from, in case I want to cover up my eye. I don’t think they’ll have anything that looks like this, but I can send you a link later.”

“Ah, thanks.”

A short while later, the rate at which they were going through the food had seriously decreased. Toriko had long since tapped out already, only picking up a morsel here and there to try and feed to Sorawo. Eventually, Akari proposed that they should put away the left over food, rather than attempt to finish it all. Sorawo, feeling stuffed herself, begrudgingly accepted one last shrimp from Toriko before getting up and insisting she should help.

Toriko also got up, though not with the intention of helping. No sooner had the table been cleared than she began to pile things back onto it, this time a small store bought cake and a number of boxes wrapped in paper.

“Alright!” she declared. “Now, presents!”

“Does that come first, or does the cake come first?” asked Akari.

“Huh? Well, I don’t think it matters that much, does it?”

“I need some digestion time over here before I eat anything else,” said Kozakura. Sorawo nodded in agreement — she hadn’t actually expected there would be even more food.

Sorawo retook her seat next to Toriko, and leaned over to whisper to her. “You didn’t put them up to this, did you?”

She wasn’t used to receiving so many gifts on her birthday. Really, the whole party seemed more like something she assumed Toriko would have done back home. It was nice, but it make her uncomfortable to think a bunch of people had been cajoled into buying things for her.

“I don’t think so? It just sort of came up as we were planning, and everybody thought it was a nice idea to get you something.”

“If you’re sure…”

She was suspicious of the idea that anyone would spontaneously decide to give her of all people a gift, but it was a little late for that now. She looked at the presents arrayed on the table, wondering where to begin.

“Oh, Senpai,” said Akari, “maybe you should open Migiwa-san’s first, since he wasn’t able to stick around for the party?”

“Ah, sure,” she said. Migiwa had only been there long enough to pick the lock on her front door, which she would be having words with him about, before getting back to work. She reached out and grabbed his gift, a neatly wrapped package about the size of a medium hardcover book.

About the weight of one too, for that matter — Sorawo had a feeling she knew what kind of thing he’d gotten her. She hooked her thumb into a fold in the wrapping and ripped it open. Indeed, her present was a book.

Well, not just a book. It was a book of ghost stories Sorawo had been wanting to add to her collection for a long time. Out of print, with no digitized version available, she had never managed to find a copy within her price range. The one she held now, while faded with age, was in immaculate condition. It seemed to be a first edition, as well.

There was a small, handwritten card left behind in the wrapping paper. Sorawo picked it up to read.

Happy birthday, Kamikoshi-san.

I do not wish to intrude on your time with your friends, but I would like to take this opportunity to extend my gratitude for your continued work with the DS Lab. Your contribution to us can not be understated.

I came across the enclosed book at an auction recently, and believed that it was in line with your interests. I will not deny that my intentions are partly practical — as so many of the UBL phenomena we have encountered either resemble or have inspired real life accounts of the supernatural, it seems prudent to expand our knowledge thereof when possible. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy the addition to your collection.

Sincerely,

Youichirou Migiwa

“An auction?” said Toriko, leaning over to read the letter. “When an old book like this is up for auction, it’s normally super valuable, right?”

“…Yeah,” Sorawo confirmed. She supposed that for a man who drove around in a Mercedes Benz, this sort of thing seemed like just a friendly gift, but… just how much had he spent on this?

Well, as he said, this may way be useful in dealing with the Otherside. In that sense, it was a sort of business expense, if not one likely to have a great return on investment. Sorawo put it out of her mind for now, gently folding the book back into the paper and looking at the remaining packages on the table.

Before she could make a selection, a pale hand shot out from beside her and snatched the smallest box from the table, holding it out to her.

“Here you go,” said Toriko.

“Yours, I take it?”

Toriko nodded. Sorawo removed the paper from a small, sturdy cardboard box. Inside, nestled among some padding, there was a necklace. It had a fine chain, from which dangled a round, flat pendant with a glossy finish. It was a vibrant light blue, mottled with lighter splotches in a loosely radial pattern. It called to mind the summer sky, photographed with a wide angle lens.

It was quite pretty, without seeming outrageously expensive or overtly romantic. From the box, Sorawo had been half expecting a ring — receiving something much tamer gave her strange mixture of emotions that she decided she would confront some other day.

“It’s beautiful,” she told Toriko in the meantime. “Thanks.”

Akari’s gift was… a ghost hunting kit.

It was a collection of different tools, trinkets and devices supposedly made for detecting and suppressing otherworldly entities. Sorawo didn’t actually know of that many true ghost stories where this kind of equipment featured, but some of it did seem like it could have some application on the Otherside. Of course, the fact was that with the help of Sorawo’s eye, most of their monster problems ended up being solved with regular old bullets. Perhaps this was the perfect gift for a version of her who wasn’t a gun-toting antisocial.

In a way, she appreciated Akari’s interpretation of her character.

Next was Natsumi’s, a fashionable segmented toolbox with assorted tools, in addition to a small paper booklet that seemed hand made.

“I was thinking,” Natsumi explained, “that you two are out in the field a lot with that AP-1, right? I did my best on all the parts, but if you’re out somewhere that you can’t get a mechanic and something breaks down, that’s trouble. So I wrote up kind of a guide to common problems, and got the tools you should need to fix them. I can give you a crash course on anything that isn’t clear enough.”

“Thanks, absolutely,” said Sorawo, flipping through the booklet. Indeed, Natsumi had explained many common issues in surprisingly clear terms. It would be impossible to read them on the Otherside, of course, but it was well written enough that she didn’t feel like they would have trouble memorizing them.

“Just make sure you bring it around for a real checkup if anything goes wrong — some things still need an actual mechanic, you know?”

Assuring her that she would, Sorawo tucked the booklet into the toolbox and set it down on the table. One last present remained, sitting in front of Kozakura. She reached out and shoved it across the table towards Sorawo.

“Here.”

It was wide and flat, and similar in wight to Migiwa’s gift. Another book? She looked up at Kozakura, who nodded her assent to open it. Beneath the wrapping paper, as she expected was the cover of a book, leather embossed with small flowers. Unlike Migiwa’s gift, this book was brand new, and there was no title printed on the cover.

Opening it, she found it was a photo album. It was mostly empty, but the first few pages had been filled. She and Toriko were the primary subjects of most of the photographs, though some of them were selfies with Kozakura in the foreground and the two of them in the background. All of the pictures were of times the three of them had gone out together.

She had seen Kozakura take her phone out once or twice while they were eating together, but she had no idea that she had taken most of these. That was a little weird, right — secretly taking all these pictures of her? At the same time, though…

Sorawo never knew how to act when her picture was being taken. Chances were that she froze up in some weird way, and the photo ended up looking like a mugshot. In all of these photos, though, she looked natural. She looked happy. Being kind of stalker-ish aside, these were probably the most flattering photos anyone had taken of her in years.

“I have a condition for giving you this, if that’s okay,” said Kozakura. It was a strange thing to say about a gift, but her tone was completely serious.

“Okay… what is it?”

“Only use this for photos from over here. Never from over there.”

Ah.

Photography worked strangely on the Otherside. Pictures turned out from bizarre and impossible angles, with ghostly figures burned into the scene, or with other unnatural defects. Most were simply ruined, and most that weren’t were simply too creepy to want to keep. Nonetheless, over time Sorawo had amassed a small collection of interesting Otherside photographs, and had even considered trying to have some of them printed.

Only for photos from over here… her insistence reminded Sorawo of something. A conversation they had had, months ago now.

“If you give up your lingering ties to this world, you really won’t be able to come back anymore.”

“No, that’s—“

“When you’re on the brink of life and death, being attached to the idea of coming home alive can make all the difference.”

If asked, Sorawo would obviously deny that there was any danger of her losing herself to the other world. It was, frankly, pretty freaky over there. But, if she was being completely honest… there was a wild, seductive thrill to adventuring on the Otherside. It was a feeling she couldn’t get anywhere else, a feeling that nothing else compared to. It was like a kind of drug.

Looking at these photos, though… there was something, wasn’t there? One other feeling, even greater than the thrill. It was the rush of making it home alive. Enjoying food, drink, and each other’s company in the knowledge that they were safe — that they had come face to face with the other world, and they had walked away. Maybe Toriko had always known that, and that was the reason she considered their afterparties so important.

Kozakura intended for this to be an ‘anchor’. A reminder of what she had waiting for her if she came home. Mixing the Otherside into it would of course defeat the entire purpose.

“Kozakura…” Sorawo looked up at her. “Thank you. Really.”

“Like I said this afternoon, don’t thank me. This is for my own self interest too, you know. Since I’ve made the mistake of going and getting attached to you girls.”

“Even so,” she said. Sorawo placed the photo album, along with the rest of her presents, off to the side.

Looking between her cake, the antique book Migiwa had given her, and the numerous empty beer scans scattered around the apartment, she reconsidered and moved them all to her bed before returning to the table. The excess paper was swept away, and one slightly slurred rendition of Happy Birthday later, the five girls set upon the cake — it wasn’t half bad, if not as nice as dinner had been.

Afterwards, the party began to wind down. The alcohol dried up quickly, which Sorawo had a sneaking suspicion was because they limited the amount they brought in fear of her initiating another naked dance party.

It wasn’t as if she had actually been responsible, but only half the party planners knew enough about the Otherside to fully understand what had happened.

Pleasant conversation continued for some time after that. Eventually, Kozakura rose somewhat unsteadily to her feet. Sorawo supposed her small frame resulted in the booze hitting her a little harder than it had the rest of them.

“Alright, I’ve had about enough of you people for tonight,” she declared. “I’m heading home.”

Akari looked at her for a moment. “Oh, well… we were probably going to heading out soon too, right Nattsun?”

“Hm? Yeah, we can do that.”

“Kozakura-san, would you like to walk to the station with us?”

“Eh. Do what you want.”

Nodding to Akari, Sorawo accompanied them to the door, where they slipped on their shoes. As they opened the door to walk outside, Kozakura turned and pointed at her.

“Sorawo.”

“Yep, that’s me.”

“Don’t get cheeky with me. I just wanted to say… happy birthday. And I hope we can do something again next year. You understand?”

Sorawo nodded. “I do.”

“In that case, I’m done here. See you.”

Kozakura trotted out the door after Akari and Natsumi, shutting it behind her.

Sorawo felt herself relax a little. It had been a fun, but a whole day of social interaction was an awful lot to have sprung on her. Now, just one more guest to shoo out of her house and she could begin recharging.

“So-ra-wo~”

Sorawo startled as Toriko draped herself around her from behind, drawling her name. She turned her head to the side, finding herself looking right into Toriko’s eyes. A loose strand of golden hair ran down her face, and Sorawo had the sudden urge to reach out and brush it aside.

She resisted it, gently shoving Toriko away. “Hey, come on, are you drunk?”

“Mmm, maybe a little? But I’m mostly just happy.”

Indeed, Toriko was practically glowing, even as Sorawo rebuffed her affections. Sorawo sighed — it didn’t feel like she had any immediate plans to vacate the apartment. That said… if it was Toriko, she didn’t really mind playing host a little longer.

“Well, let’s not just stand around in front of the door. Come on.”

“Okay!” she said, following Sorawo to the back room. Sorawo started towards the cushions on the floor, but Toriko strode right past her and plunked herself down on the edge of Sorawo’s bed. Sorawo sat down by the table anyway, shooting her a look.

She didn’t seem to notice. “Today went good, right? You seemed like you had fun.”

Sorawo had. It was a little different than when they went out somewhere together, but after her initial apprehensions she had ended up enjoying herself.

“It was fine,” she said. “But, if you weren’t sure it would go over well, you could have just asked ahead of time.”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise party if we did that, though.”

From a certain perspective, she supposed that was flawless logic.

“Did you normally have these kind of parties, growing up?”

“Well, never a surprise party, actually. I did have birthday parties a couple times when I was younger, but…” Toriko looked a little sheepish. “By the time I entered high school, I didn’t really have, uh, friends.”

“You too, huh?” Sorawo knew that Toriko wasn’t good with strangers, and that she didn’t hang out with anyone from her school, but it seemed their shared social ineptitude extended back before she had even moved to Japan.

“Yeah. So, it was nice to be able to do this again. Not that it was for me, but, you know…”

“I know,” she confirmed. “We’ve stumbled on some pretty nice people, huh?”

Kozakura, Akari, Natsumi, and even Migiwa and the others at the DS Lab… it might be a friend group she could count on one hand, but even compared to a year ago it felt like plenty. And, of course…

Toriko nodded. “I’m so glad that I met you.”

“Yeah,” Sorawo responded. “Me too.”

“I think about it sometimes, you know? That day, I could easily have decided to explore in some other direction… what would have happened?”

“You’d probably have just stepped into a glitch,” said Sorawo. Her tone was casual, but even the thought of it made her stomach turn.

Meanwhile, of course, she would have simply drowned, paralyzed by her glimpse of the kunekune. Really, when she thought about it, their fortune had been unimaginable — it was almost too good to be true.

“Ha…” said Toriko, though her face revealed she found it no funnier than Sorawo. “Yeah, probably.”

They really had saved each other. Not just that day, or even just the times they had helped each other on the Otherside. On every conceivable level, they had changed the course of each other’s lives. And, after Toriko had done so much for her, she was still…

“Hey, Toriko…” she said.

Toriko met her gaze. “Sorawo?”

“I love you, you know? I really do. I know that… there are things you want that I don’t think I’m ready for, but—”

She was interrupted by Toriko leaping to her feet. All trace of melancholy had vanished from her features.

“Sorawo…! That’s the first time you’ve ever told me that on your own!”

Sorawo blinked. When she thought about it, yeah… she had told Toriko that she loved her, but always in response to her saying it first. It hadn’t ever really crossed her mind — she really was that much of a coward, huh?

But it was hard to think that way about herself, the way Toriko was looking at her now.

“Well, I mean, it’s just the truth, right?”

“At a couple points, I did wonder,” she said. She probably hadn’t meant for it to feel like a punch to the gut. She walked over and sat down beside Sorawo, putting an arm around her. “That made my whole day, you know?”

Why was she so soft? Why did she always smell so nice? This was unfair, honestly.

“A-Ah, well, I’m glad…” she managed. “You made my day too.”

Toriko shrugged. “I had everyone else’s help. And honestly, you know, there’s actually one thing I feel bad about today.”

“Oh?”

She gestured at the handful of presents lying on the bed. “I was thinking, everybody else got you these really thoughtful gifts. Stuff they thought you would find useful. I’m the only one who didn’t, and I pretty much just picked it out because I wanted to see you wearing it. That was a little selfish, right? It’s like I got a present for myself.”

Sorawo thought for a moment. “I don’t think so,” she said. “And I’m not just saying that to flatter you.”

“Really?”

“For one thing, practical things typically benefit both of us — if you got me something for the Otherside, you’d end up using that too. In that sense, I’d say three of the gifts I got today were already partially for you. The necklace is all mine, even if you also like it.”

“Ah…”

“Moreover,” she continued, “think about when we go out to a restaurant together. That’s not actually very practical, right? We’re eating, obviously, but we could just get food cheaper from the supermarket.”

“That wouldn’t be a very good celebration.”

“Exactly. We get something impractical instead, because it’s more enjoyable, or because it means something to us. So, the necklace doesn’t do anything but look pretty — it’s probably not going to save my life, or anything. But if we didn’t have things like that, if we didn’t have good food or pretty things… what’s the point? We need some of those things, or at least that’s what I think.”

Toriko nodded pensively. “I didn’t know you put so much thought into it.”

“I’ll be honest, I never really have before. I’ve just… had it on my mind tonight, I guess.”

Toriko poked her in the shoulder, grinning. “Because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings?”

“No, not that. Moron.”

The two of them devolved into lighthearted bickering for a short while, and quiet conversation for some time after. Eventually, realizing how late it had gotten, Toriko decided she had better get home. Waving off Sorawo’s offer to walk her to the station, she gathered her things, bid goodbye, and left the apartment.

Sorawo found herself alone, surrounded by party decorations she would need to take down at some point. For now, though, she was exhausted. How did people with friends do this all the time?

Well… she supposed she was a person with friends now. But she still didn’t get it.

She went over to her bed and began moving her gifts. Migiwa’s book went, very carefully, onto her shelf. The kits she received from Akari and Natsumi were placed by the door, to easily bring them with her next time she went to the Otherside. Toriko’s necklace and Kozakura’s photo album were taken over to her desk.

She took one more look over the photos Kozakura had taken of them, and then pulled out her phone.

It had been sort of on a whim — after they had started on the cake, she decided she would snap a picture.

Akari had her arm around Natsumi, tugging her into frame with such excitement that Sorawo was pretty sure it was restricting her airway. Kozakura was dead centre in the back of the picture, holding a beer and staring directly into the camera. Toriko was smiling widely, a smear of icing on her nose.

Sorawo, of course, was at the very front, holding the camera. She was taking up too much of the frame, her glasses were crooked, and her overbite was sticking out. She hadn’t noticed or cared, at the time, and it was past the point where she could do a retake. Even so, she couldn’t help but smile at the way the picture turned out.

She looked happy.