The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 5

by Satoshi Wagahara

  Emi rode up the escalator, heading for the floor where they sold a variety of crystals, minerals, and fossils. It wasn’t long before she found what she was looking for: a small bottle with a cork, meant for exhibiting crystals with. She also stopped by the accessory-kit section for a ball chain and a few other metal bits and bobs.

  From there, she proceeded a very short distance to the Yoyogi Dokodemo Building. Evocative of the Art Deco skyscrapers that dominated the US cityscapes way back when, it housed the Yoyogi office’s primary business departments and communications hardware.

  There was a Muddraker’s burger place on the first floor, which Emi swung into for some tea and a chance to lay out her goods on the table.

  “…There we go.”

  A Yesod fragment inside a corked bottle with a chain attached looked like nothing but a somewhat quirky key holder. She didn’t need to have it lit up 24/7, so as long as she could make up a quick story about it when anyone asked, it was all good.

  It definitely beat carrying her unsheathed holy sword around, or showing Alas Ramus’s glowing forehead to the entire world.

  The restaurant was largely deserted. Lunch was over, and it was still a tad early for the dinner rush.

  Emi put her completed key chain back in her bag, then, taking a moment to ensure nobody was looking, infused the fragment with just a bit of her holy energy.

  The Better Half, the Cloth of the Dispeller, and Alas Ramus all acted in concert with this infusion, making the fragment grow in strength.

  She took pains to regulate the flow, remembering the dazzling glow her sword had emitted when she had set foot within Ente Isla’s Devil’s Castle.

  Then she gave a light pump of her fist with her free arm.

  “…Yes!”

  The Yesod fragment inside the bottle began to glow a faint shade of violet, just like her sword and Alas Ramus’s head. Then, after realigning itself within the bottle, it shot a straight beam of light in a certain direction.

  The beam was cut off by the inside of Emi’s bag, of course. But all she needed was the directional guidance.

  The light was pointed southwest of Yoyogi.

  One potential location immediately sprung to mind.

  “…Ugh, Sasazuka?”

  It was pointed right at the zone of Tokyo where Emi and Maou spent most of their lives.

  “But…hang on a sec. It might not be there at all. Maybe it’s past there, even. …Might as well take this as far as it goes, though.”

  Sasazuka would need to be on her list, of course, but all she had to go on right now was a general southwestern bearing. There was no guarantee this light wouldn’t guide her all the way down to Okinawa.

  One thing was already for sure, though. The fragment in Emi’s bag, the Better Half, the Cloth of the Dispeller, Alas Ramus—and something else: There was another Yesod fragment in this world. Emi stepped out of Muddraker’s, a new sense of confidence fresh in her mind.

  “…Which way would this thing turn if it’s reacting to something on the opposite side of the world, though?”

  She knew the whole time.

  That was what he had told her, after all. Having this be anything else would certainly not be her preference.

  The other end of the relationship didn’t seem too conscious of its existence. And, looking back, she clearly acted out of sorts whenever they were together.

  But…

  “I was just thinking, you know…what if, am I right?”

  “Pardon me?”

  “Nothing, nothing.”

  Rika grinned to herself, remembering that Ashiya was standing right next to her.

  After agonizing over how dressy she should be for the big day, she opted for a tunic-style top, some short pants, and a well-worn pair of mules. Nothing too fancy, just your basic going-out gear. It proved to be the right answer.

  Ashiya was standing next to her, yes. But in front of them was this guy, Sadao Maou—Rika still wasn’t quite sure if he was Ashiya’s friend, or ex-boss, or what—and Suzuno Kamazuki, Emi’s pal.

  Maou and Ashiya were decked out in UniClo from top to bottom, not much different from before. They were reasonably coordinated, at least. Suzuno, meanwhile, was in a kimono as always.

  Going full volume with her fashion choices today would’ve made the men in the group stand out like a pair of sore thumbs. Rika’s wardrobe was just barely casual enough to make the entire team look remarkably well balanced.

  Upon meeting up at the western turnstile at JR Shinjuku station, the four of them took an underground tunnel to the Socket City in front of the station’s main bus terminal.

  Rika had brought along nothing but a purse just large enough to fit her phone, her wallet, and a few cosmetics. Now, though, she was carrying a large, solid-looking plastic bag with one hand.

  It was a set of tsukudani simmered fish from Choshi. A souvenir from Ashiya, who told Rika by phone about their trip beforehand.

  Offering a selection of saury, mackerel, and European pilchard, it was nothing more, and nothing less, than a souvenir. The sort of thing you purchased robotically at the gift shop when you remembered you needed to bring something home.

  “…Well, it works for me.” Rika grinned to herself, feeling a tad warmer for reasons besides the summer heat.

  It was a very Ashiya-like present, to say the least.

  And for someone living alone like she did, Rika would never turn down something to fancy up dinner a little.

  She wasn’t a child any longer, besides. She was mature, and her emotions matured with the rest of her. In a distressing way, she was all grown up.

  Rika turned toward Maou and Suzuno to shake off the bad vibes.

  “So, what are all of you lookin’ to buy today, anyway?”

  “I am merely here to purchase a television set. These other two, I cannot say.”

  “Uh, hello? I need a TV, too?”

  Maou shot it back at Suzuno. Rika looked up at Ashiya, who clearly wanted to voice his dissent.

  “What about a phone?”

  “…Perhaps, once we gauge the TV prices…”

  “A phone? What’s that about?”

  Maou turned around, picking up on their conversation.

  “Well, I told you, I promised I’d help Ashiya find a cell phone for himself. It’s the twenty-first century, and he told me he didn’t have one.”

  “When did you get to talking about that?”

  Maou never knew—was never made aware—that Ashiya, Rika, and Chiho had been tailing him at Tokyo Big-Egg Town. That was why, just like with Emi, he had no clue why Ashiya and Rika were so suddenly friendly with each other.

  “I dunno how much I can help you with buying a TV, though. I got an HD screen at home, but it’s not like I know a whole lot about them or anything.”

  “Oh, not at all, Ms. Suzuki. The fact you own a television at all is vital to us. You made the purchase yourself, right?”

  Rika’s apartment in the Takadanobaba neighborhood contained a flat-screen LCD set. It was the first major purchase she made with the money she saved up from working in Tokyo.

  “Yeah, it’s from Toshina. It was pretty much one of the first HD-compatible models, so it’s kind of old, but it’s a twenty-sixer and it has all the component video and HDMI connectors and stuff. I just added a DVR and Blu-ray player to it not long ago.”

  Rika found herself stared at by three pairs of eyes, all telling her that they had no idea what she was talking about.

  “Um…?”

  Suzuno cleared her throat. “I…imagine this may be difficult for you to believe, Rika…but our knowledge of home electronics begins and, sad to say, ends in the era of rabbit ears.”

  “For you, maybe.”

  Suzuno let Maou’s jab go unanswered.

  “It was kinda the same thing when I bought a phone,” Maou continued, “but you’re talking as if we’ve got all the basics down pat already. It doesn’t really mean much to me if this or that’s installed on it if we don’
t know what ‘this or that’ even is.”

  “Yes,” Ashiya agreed. “And, Ms. Suzuki, I was hoping you might be able to teach us about all of this.”

  “Ohhhh…kay?”

  “So, this Toshina. Are they a well-known electronics manufacturer?”

  “We’re starting from there?”

  Ashiya’s question all but floored Rika. She stopped walking.

  “Okay. Let’s rewind a bit. I think going to the electronics store right now might be just a little dangerous.”

  Rika paused for a moment to think.

  “Uhmmm, have, have you guys eaten yet? ’Cause how about we all have some lunch and I can at least tell you the bare minimum you all need to know?”

  Maou nodded as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “Oh…yeah, it’s about time, huh? It’s been so hot lately, I haven’t had much of an appetite at all.”

  “I have not eaten either…” Suzuno grinned and raised an eyebrow at Ashiya. “But the real issue is whether this compulsive miser here would allow a trip to a restaurant.”

  Ashiya protested hautily. “Suzuno Kamazuki…you see me as nothing more than a close-fisted skinflint, do you?”

  Then he turned to Rika: “As long as we can restrict it to three hundred yen or below per meal, I am prepared to make the outlay.”

  “……”

  Maou and Suzuno found themselves unable to respond.

  Five hundred yen would be understandable enough, but at the three-hundred level, the pickings started to get slim. That would be just enough, maybe, to eat something off the main menu at MgRonald or a beef-bowl chain joint.

  But Rika looked unfazed as she began walking forward.

  “Okay, let’s do it. Mind if we go someplace I know about? It’s right near here.”

  “Um, you know someplace we can eat at for three hundred yen?”

  “Yeah, well, I kinda predicted he’d say that. I dunno if it’d be enough to fill up a full-sized man, but we’ll see.”

  She brimmed with confidence as she climbed back up to the surface streets, guiding the other three to the front of a mixed-used office building.

  Suzuno was the first to spot the sign.

  “‘Manmaru Udon’… What? Udon noodles?!”

  Manmaru Udon was an udon chain that got its start in Kagawa prefecture, the birthplace of the thick sanuki udon noodles that dominated much of Japan these days. They were known for their self-service bar of side dishes and toppings, and—more relevant to today’s proceedings—they offered high-quality noodle dishes that started at 105 yen.

  “U…udon for a hundred five yen?” Ashiya, predictably, demonstrated the most shock.

  He wasn’t deliberately trying to be difficult, but not even he expected a restaurant to offer anything below his quoted number.

  “Huh… I heard about this, actually. This is Manmaru, eh?”

  Maou, being a fast-food employee, at least knew the name, although this was his first actual visit to one.

  “The small-size plain noodle bowl goes for a hundred five yen, and if you add a couple of toppings to that, you can keep it under three hundred and still fill up a little,” Rika added.

  “Do… Are you a frequent visitor, Ms. Suzuki?” Ashiya inquired.

  “No, just sometimes. The broth that udon gets served in around Tokyo is too thick and spiced up for me, but it’s a lot plainer here, so I like it more. Kinda easy on the wallet, too, huh?”

  “Yeah, no kidding.”

  “So anyway, we can eat here and I can clue you in about TVs a little before we hit the store. I’m not a huge expert or anything, but seriously, you’d be asking for trouble if you walked in there right now.”

  Rika stood in the front of the line, showing the rest how to order. Behind her were Ashiya, Maou (still pondering over Ashiya and Rika’s apparent chumminess), and Suzuno, each wrapping up their order in sequence.

  “You’re going with plain udon, Suzuno?”

  Rika couldn’t help but ask. Even Ashiya and Maou topped their 105-yen bowl with some sweet-potato tempura and fried fish sticks, but Suzuno, surprisingly, went with plain old noodles and broth.

  “I need to test this first. One small udon, as is, will suffice.”

  As is, in this case, referred to the not-too-cold, certainly-not-too-warm temperature Manmaru typically sold their noodles at.

  The chain’s 105-yen price point was more than just cheap for cheapness’s sake—it was devised to encourage more people to give sanuki udon a try. A sign of the franchise’s confidence in their goods, in other words.

  “I never shy away from a fair challenge.”

  “…A fair what?”

  The four of them sat at a table and took out their chopsticks, Suzuno sizing up her bowl as intently as a samurai preparing to strike with his sword.

  “’Kay, well…dig in, everyone.” Sounding the bell like a cafeteria lunch lady, Rika watched as Ashiya and Maou dipped their chopsticks into the broth, both thinking over their own private matters.

  “…Let us begin.”

  Suzuno shot her eyes open and brought a load of noodles to her lips.

  “!!”

  One bite was enough to make her face change color.

  “This…is…!”

  “Uh, hey, Suzuno?”

  Maou’s voice clearly did not register with Suzuno as she quickly went in for more noodles. As the other three watched, she finished up the entire small bowl of plain udon in under a minute. The sheer zeal she brought into her eating performance mesmerized the group. She gave a light exhale as she wrapped up the final mouthful, but after a few seconds, her shoulders began to visibly shake.

  “Why…why…?”

  “Wh-what’s up, Suzuno? Didn’t like them too much?”

  The bizarreness of Suzuno’s reaction gave Rika genuine cause for worry. But Suzuno responded with a gruff stare, her voice low.

  “Why…is such splendid udon a mere hundred and five yen?”

  “Huh?”

  “The thickness, the body, the mouth feel, the salt level, the finish…all absolutely beyond reproach.”

  “Yeah…? Well, great, but…”

  Her eyes remained stiff and resentful, but Suzuno now looked more like a gourmet restaurant critic as she stood back up, bowl in hand.

  “…Another order!”

  “Yeaaah, have fun,” Maou muttered into his noodles as Suzuno stormed back to the counter. “I know they’re good and all, but that good?”

  Ashiya looked up for a moment from his bowl. “Yes, well, Ms. Kamazuki is something of an udon aficionado, I believe. Perhaps something in it struck a chord with her.”

  For some reason, the observation caused anxiety to shake itself into existence within Rika’s heart. Why would Ashiya know about Suzuno’s favorite foods? She knew they were next-door apartment neighbors, but were they friendly enough to know about each other’s eating habits?

  “…Aha…”

  Rika shook her head rather than take the thought any further. There was nothing strange about it at all. Even Rika had at least a vague idea of what people around her ate on a regular basis. And Suzuno became acquainted with Ashiya long before Rika entered the picture. If they lived that close to each other, he was bound to find out somehow.

  As if to quell the anxiety once and for all, Rika opened wide and took a large, crunchy bite out of the kaki-age tempura fritter over her noodles.

  “So getting back to the TV for a moment… Did you have an idea of what kind you wanted to buy or anything?” she asked.

  “If I can watch TV with it, I’m good to go,” Maou replied.

  “Well, yeah, but—”

  “You said earlier that you owned a Toshina something-or-other that was ‘a twenty-sixer,’” Ashiya began. “Is that the model number or some such part?”

  Maou’s phoned-in preferences were as unexpected as Ashiya’s earnest question.

  “N-no, no, it’s twenty-six inches. That’s the size of the screen…or of the TV itself, maybe. One of the
two?”

  Rika had trouble remembering which was correct, but reasoned that it didn’t enormously matter either way.

  But this was far more than simply not keeping up with the latest models.

  Rika was no gadget guru, but televisions and video recording already existed by the time she was born. Her DVR wasn’t any thornier to use than any video device that came before it.

  “Huh. So if twenty-six is normal, then I guess we’re maxing out at twenty-nine, maybe?”

  “What?”

  Rika’s eyebrows bunched together at Maou’s continued nonsense.

  “I’d like to keep it on the bigger side, though. Like, twenty-seven or so. Twenty-four would be too small, so I’d want to go for twenty-six or twenty-seven…or twenty-eight if I can.”

  She kind of understood what Maou was getting at as he rattled the numbers off. They indicated that this wasn’t going to be easy for her.

  “It doesn’t work like bicycle tires or anything…”

  “No?”

  “I mean, the newer ones, if they’re meant for the family room, they come in thirty-two inches even at the low end. If money was no object, you could even pick up a fifty- or sixty-inch screen right now—like, about the size of a tatami mat if you laid it on the floor.”

  “What the heck would you watch with something that big?!”

  Maou—on this issue, at least—had a point.

  “Mmm, movies and stuff, I guess? Some people are really picky about video and audio quality with that sort of thing, so…”

  “Would regular programs show up that large as well?”

  Ashiya’s trembling question created a mental image in Rika’s mind.

  “You know, maybe that wouldn’t be so nice, huh?” she admitted.

  Movies and nature documentaries would be one thing. But watching a normal news broadcast, the national legislature in session, or some inane comedy show in massive, high-resolution perfection seemed pointless. Rika chuckled at the idea of the top half of a newscaster’s body projected across her entire living-room wall.

  “But that’s gonna be way out of your budget anyway. My twenty-six-incher’s probably about…this big, I guess?”