---

---

Hunched over and staggering as I walked back, I stopped by the nursery on my way.
In the hospital garden, girls in yukata sat in the shade of a tree.
One girl, wrapped in lavender fabric patterned with butterflies, held a purple traditional umbrella despite being under the shade, concealing her expression from view.
The other yukata-clad girl was borrowing the umbrella girl's lap for a pillow.
It was Ooe Yuna and Misono Mayu. Noticing my approach, Yuna moved the umbrella away from her face.
She greeted me with a smile that looked like less than an imitation, something created by dripping black ink onto the surface of water in a washbasin.
I wonder if this is how Mayu and I look to others when we're playing our magnet game.
"It seems your reading contest with Mishifuu, Segano, and Toumai has finally concluded," she said. "I grew tired of waiting and was just about to set off on a journey to find a way to accelerate time."
Brushing her bangs aside with her fingers to reveal her eyes, Yuna let a smile befitting the color purple curl onto her lips.
"Does that make me Noma and you Karina, then? And how do you know everyone's names?"
"Fufufu, there is nothing mysterious in this world."
"You're using that wrong."
I hope that hospital room wasn't bugged or anything. Well, considering the relationship between Yuna and me, perhaps I shouldn't be surprised she could figure that much out. And with that, I've laid the groundwork to shift this into an SF storyline. This concludes the modern-day arc; next time, the SF arc begins. After that is the near-future arc, scheduled for cancellation after ten weeks. How about we save that lie for next April Fools' Day?
I crouched down in front of the pair—who looked like they could form a "YunaMayu Sisters" unit—and touched Mayu's cheek.
Even if she was out of it for more than half of it, this was the first time I'd seen Mayu in two months. Parts of my internal organs apparently require a regular replenishment of the "Mayu component," so now I'll finally be able to handle the workload of about half a person. Since about half my human functions are impaired anyway, that's enough for me to operate. You could call me a kind of ideal model for this energy-saving era. That's a lie.
"Ahh, she's safe... and it's over. Thank goodness."
The tension drained from my shoulders. The strength left my legs too. After picking and choosing various things to discard, I overcame the final breakwater of my underwear and was reduced to a skeleton. ...... Well, I'll end up that way eventually, so it's not really a lie, is it.

But really... Mayu was safe. If that's not sheer luck, what is? ... Hmm, "Spring has come to my world." Yeah, I can actually say that. Ah, well. Considering the situation—where I was walking my own path just millimeters away from the main thread of the case, a situation where I wouldn't have been allowed the surprise if someone had "greeted" me at any moment—Mayu not getting a single scratch is a magnificent achievement. Instead of worshipping gods they've never even seen at the summer festival, shouldn't the neighborhood association be proclaiming our Mayu as the "Greatest Maa-chan in the Land," making her famous throughout Asia? There's no way that should be a lie.

The fundamental reason the case was resolved without a hitch was likely because I, fatally lacking the lubricating oil needed to make things run smoothly, was barely involved. Let's cover our eyes to that fact and give it a round of applause.
If we're only talking about the result, that is. I haven't exchanged a single word with Yuna about what happened afterward. Well, they do say no news is good news.
"Araa, Akkyun, aren't you going to worry about *me*~? Yours Truly almost died, like, five or six times, you know."
"Didn't I give you a safe childbirth charm every time you came to my hospital room?" No, really.
"That was low-flying, near-crash sexual harassment, that was. Where did a bedridden young man like yourself even get those? I wonder."
That's a lie, though.
Yuna rolled up her yukata sleeve, revealing numerous charms wrapped around her wrist. To think she'd kept every single one... I couldn't help but feel bliss course through me that the conduction of my goodwill had proceeded unimpeded. Every single one...
"The person who came to visit me every day went out of their way to bring them."
"Hmm. Well, thanks to these charms, I stopped an attacker's knife by a hair's breadth, so I guess I'll let it slide." Mm-hmm, Yuna nodded, perfectly content as she shook the small bells attached to the charms, making them ring.
It was clearly a fabricated anecdote.
I spotted a nurse at the hospital entrance, so I instinctively joined Yuna in her "forest bathing." Hiding in the shade created a blind spot from the nurse, preventing any scolding beforehand.
"How creepy this girl is. When her behavior patterns are this clear, it makes you doubt she's even human," Yuna criticized, tracing Mayu's cheek with a fingertip. Her gaze was dry, showing no hint of pity.
"Everyone's clockwork, you know."
"Oh? But I hate oranges."
"Is that so." I agreed, somewhat.
"Still, you're quite tenacious, aren't you? I wonder how many times you have to come back alive before you're satisfied. A permanent replay? You sound like you'd be quite satisfied if I died just once," she said, even clicking her tongue.

"Too bad for you, but the same death flag doesn't work on me twice."
"I imagine it would be over if it *had* worked the first time. So, I don't need to look after this girl anymore, right? If she were to drool on my lap, I was about to make different fluids stream from her nose and eyes... but I'll make that a lie since your eyes just went bloodshot."
"Yeah, that's enough. Thanks, nursery lady." She swung her umbrella at me, and I recoiled.
My sister had come to see me for the first time in months, so I'd wanted to talk with her a bit. That's why I had Yuna pick up Mayu, who'd been wandering around town, for me.
I can imagine what methods she used. I have far too much personal experience with similar things.
Since my sister didn't go off to murder Mayu while I was incapacitated, I wonder if she's given up on revenge. Or perhaps she decided, "I'm no match for her now!" and is busy training to forge fists of iron?

"But it seems you were surprisingly cooperative this time. I'm genuinely grateful for that, at least. To think you'd take the initiative in the equivalent of calling your own cell number to console yourself..."
"I had my own pressing problem, so I had no choice but to cheer on the 'me' in the mirror with a hearty 'Go for it!'"
Kskss, ukehkekehk, we chuckled, engrossed in demeaning ourselves even as we insulted each other.
"So, what was this 'pressing problem'? More pressing than my current state of mind, where I'm tempted to introduce you to that police lady who's *so* interested in your background?"
"I didn't have the money to move apartments. The rent on that room is cheap, after all."
She revealed her true motive casually, looking toward the hospital building. Her expression was cool and blank, but when a cicada fell from a tree and landed on her umbrella, her shoulders gave an obvious jump. She spun the umbrella to make it fly off.
So her living cheaply in that apartment is indirectly my fault, huh. Biwajima Yagoto... Doing *that* with Yagoto at night, and then being invited to the Ooe house and doing *that* with Fushimi day and night... It's too late to worry about misunderstandings now, but if those hadn't happened... the people in both those houses might still exist. What a waste. Forcing misfortune on others is business as usual for me, but *I* haven't managed to convert any of it into my own happiness... "Foom," I murmured, kneading Yuna's cheek. "...Moof." Yuna skillfully crafted an expression of "This is incomprehensible" using features other than her cheeks and exhaled.
"What sort of jest is this?"
"Nothing special. No ulterior motive here."
"If you have a *true* motive, I'd certainly like to hear it. Yes, really."

"Ah, that expression where you close your eyes looking displeased and furrow your brow—that's a new one. It's difficult to close your eyelids and look in a mirror, you see."
In terms of touch, maybe Yuna's cheek feels better? Though Fushimi is unparalleled when it comes to amusement value.
But in the end, Maa-chan always wins the fixed race, of course!
After watching Yuna for a moment, I released her cheek. This girl, who could project the air of an ideal Yamato Nadeshiko, scratched at her cheek with her fingertips as if probing it, then looked up at me with a skeptical stare. Were her lips pouting slightly too?
"By the way, what do you do during the day?" Hmm, I feel like this question has come up before. Though I can't recall if I was the one asking or the one being asked. Ah well, it doesn't make much difference either way.
"I play Socrates. I'm engrossed in research on how to fill one's stomach with philosophy."
"Is your staple food air, then?" I tried saying scornfully. It felt like gazing upon my own future potential.
"Truthfully, I was supposed to become a hero at sixteen. But Mother wouldn't permit me to set out on my journey, so I had no choice but to choose the path of living as a town girl."
"Huh, what a coincidence. I planned to inherit various things from my predecessor and become emperor, but then they told me to do troublesome things like go off to the highlands, so I refused and ended up becoming an ant-bed instead."
Hahaha, we both shrugged in the American style, then lightly nudged each other's faces.

What is it with this town? I wonder if there's a virus spreading that steals women's motivation to work.
"Right then, maybe I should head back to the room soon."
My internal organs felt like they were self-manufacturing needles and stabbing me all over, signaling my limit.
To pick up Mayu, who looked like she was suffering in the heat, I slid one hand under her shoulders. The other hand went under the back of her knees... gotta lift... "Heave-"
"-ho!"
We, who should have avoided the overlapping gag, ended up splendidly bumping our heads together.
Ngaah, she's heavy. It wouldn't take me a second to drop her. Feels like my arms might just pop right off.
"Oh dear, don't overdo it."
Blood vessels throbbed in my joints, burning as they demanded circulation.
"I'm fine."
Even if that reply was just bravado, I couldn't make it a lie.
I *have* to be able to hold at least this girl in my arms.
"Still, you never learn, do you? You'll definitely fall apart again someday."
"I know. I did a lot of thinking while I was laid up."
"Like what?"
"Like how lovely a palm-sized Maa-chan would be. Moving her tiny hands and feet like this, tickling my palm..."
"You are supremely stupid."
After offering this uncharacteristically honest assessment of me, Yuna started to stand. She brushed off the seat of her yukata, then re-dyed herself purple in the sunlight filtering through her traditional umbrella. Ah, that color really suits her. A transparent purple.
Transparent, yet it firmly imposes its own hue. Unless she makes them into her own kind, she probably can't let anyone into her territory. It's a mistrust of people, reached by a different path than mine.
"And that obsessive attachment is creepy."
"Thanks. I get told that sometimes." And it makes me happy.
Because those words acknowledge my heart, albeit in the form of denial.
"You're not a detective. You're a murderer."
"Hm?" An inappropriately blank response to her statement. First, I'd wait and see.
"You don't think about who you need to catch. You only think about who you need to *kill* for the case to end conveniently for you, don't you."
"There's no need to deny it, so I won't. But hearing that from you—who watched Hisaya Shirota get killed, expected Nonami Erina to be reported and removed as a threat, and hitched a ride midway through—is kinda..."
"You're giving me far too much credit as a villain. So, what about this 'kinda...'?"
"Nah, I'm just wondering which of us should be saying 'Thank you very much' to the other."
Without looking at each other's faces at all, we scattered words of self-loathing, generating the superficial repulsive force that served as the perfect excuse to return to our respective nests.
"I'm going home. Akane must be hungry and waiting."
"Ah, a siscon."
"Yes, exactly. A super siscon."
She granted me status like some evolved form of Pokémon.
"Plus, I have to feed Pierre and Catherine."
"... Sorry, could you not add new characters when the story's about to end?"
"They're not people, they're turtles. Who named them is a secret."
"Since when did you revert to being a little missy, Yuna?"
"Akane scooped up about five turtles at the festival game. We got turtle food with them too, so we decided to live together for a while."
"Is that so. Sounds like a big household, I'm envious." That's a lie, though.

Well then, once more, a farewell greeting. Whether it's forever remains uncertain.
"Well then, farewell, final boss. I'll pray we don't have another encounter in town."
"Goodbye, shitty hero. Stop wandering about and go sleepy-byes in your bed."
The yukata-clad girl let purple butterflies flutter around her and departed without leaving even a trace of where she stood.
Protecting the home one ought to return to... If you isolate that goal from the process used to achieve it, Yuna and I shared the same objective, didn't we? Just like Nonami Erina...

Without watching Yuna go, I turned back toward the hospital. I was sure she wouldn't look back either.
Trampling countless ants underfoot, sometimes swept up in their waves, a past where even I was painted black... Reminiscence itself risks being ensnared by pitch-black tentacles. If you have feet that cannot stop, you mustn't look back.
Though sometimes, a transparent hand reaches out from behind and forces me to turn around.
The garden was monopolized by summer; no patient figures shimmered in the heat haze.
All that remained was me, and the girl who had become a habitual kidnapper, now devouring a sleep that was anything but peaceful in my arms.
Holding the girl I love, princess-style. The floral scent drifting on the air masks the smell of iron. Die die die die die die die die... happy.
Because the people around me kept dying off, I am happy now.
Unless you steal another's happiness or force misfortune upon them, a person cannot achieve happiness.
No matter how you struggle. Even if you were to step into a "clean" world that permits no dust to settle.
Give or use. Yet happiness cannot be given, and misfortune cannot be taken away.
Therefore, conversely...
............
"Ngh... haah..."
I pulled Mayu closer. Elbows screaming as if about to tear off. Heat beating down on the back of my head. Wind that wouldn't blow. The cries of cicadas. A roaring in my brain. Mayu's sleeping breath. My vision obscured, my eyeballs feeling filled to bursting. Dizziness and ringing in my ears ran in parallel.
A swarm of white cabbage butterflies squirmed inside my brain, laying their eggs.
The wings of the butterflies that hatch will surely bear bloodshot eyeballs.
From June 2nd to August 22nd, my consciousness left time behind.
But time continued its elegant walk, finally catching up to us now.
Since that day, none of the people in my world had died.
Unable to directly face the question of whose death constitutes misfortune, my eyes averted the issue by looking up at the sky.
And so, I planted my two feet firmly on the ground, barely supporting Mayu with my two arms. I burned my lungs and scorched my throat on the summer air, and trembled as a momentary chill washed over me.
May my misfortune be your happiness.

---

A Very Familiar Epilogue: Three Minutes Later.
"Kyuuun! Kan-kan-kan-kan-kyuoon! Mii-kyuuun! Zuzaaa! It's Mii-kun, it's been foreeeveeeer! Aaahn, cheek squish squish!"
"Fofofo, tha's tight, Maa-chan."
"Shuri-shuri, nuri-nuri! Kyaaa, Mii-kun, you're the be-est! Yup yup, Maa-chan's Mii-kun is Mii-kun, which means he's Mii-kun 'cause he's with Maa-chan! See?! Mou, Maa-chan's so smart, she gets it right awayyy!"
"Hmm, I suppose I don't feel as though it's not necessarily the case that I don't possibly fail to understand some part of that..."
"Kyaan! Mii-kun being all roundabout is so annoyingly cute!! This Mii-kun here, and this Mii-kun too, and this part here, it's a~ll Maa-chan's Mii-kun, so hey, hey, don't you pull away!!"
"Okay, okay-gyaah! My injuries! My cheek! And my bandage is gonna peel off-"
"*Riiip!*"
"Kyehh!"
"Don't rely on things like this! Leave it to Maa-chan's biiig chest! Now, first, let's just snip snip this festering meat..."
"Kyaaah! I suddenly feel the urge to hug Maa-chan tightly and not let her arms be free!"
"Funooo! Mii-kun's switched to summer *aventure* mode! Which means kiss! C'mon, kiss kiss!"
"*Chuu...*"
"*Muchuu...*"
"Sucking on each other's cheeks like this is truly calming, isn't it."
"Wroong! It's lip smacky-smacky time! Nyuu!"
"Mmph-"
"Gih-"
"Gaah-"
"Pipi-"
"Nwaah-"
"Mii-kun and Maa-chan smashing together—*GASHIIIN!*—is everything!"
"Yeah, that's mostly right, I guess."
"Suuuper happy eeend!"
"Exactly!"

Ahh, sorry. Turns out I'm super happy after all.

---

**Afterword**

Um, no, it's not over. (Like a school-refuser sneaking in through the back of the classroom on their first day back)
Right then, Hitoma Iruma here, familiar to you from novels, including the afterwords, being works of fiction. Hello. I'll still tell lies, and I'll still make mistakes. I have a reputation for not being the slightest bit grown-up.
First, an apology. I deeply apologize for writing something suggestive in the afterword of the previous volume and causing confusion. People who came to the signing event and colleagues in the industry asked me, "Did Mii-Maa end?" which was quite painful. However, as someone who still reads Shonen Jump every week, it was something I'd always wanted to try just once. This method, reminiscent of Kochikame's fake final chapter, probably won't be trusted a second time, so I won't do it again. In fact, I might face a situation where I'm forced to write, so I felt I need to try harder in various ways. This feels disjointed, but I don't mind.

Next, some thanks. It's truly appreciated that there are surprisingly many people who send fan letters to someone like me (writing it this way makes it sound like my first-person pronoun is my name). I cannot reply in letter form, but I gratefully read every single one. Allow me to express my thanks here.
Also, people occasionally point out that I like linking my works together. I think this is due to the influence of Mr. Kouhei Kadono and Mr. Kotaro Isaka. When characters from other works appear or their lines are spoken in a different work, I somehow get unreasonably happy and find myself grinning – am I the only one? It's happened quite a bit in my works so far, and I'd like to link various things in the future too, so those with time to spare might enjoy finding such connections.
Someone told me, "Please try not to lie anymore," and though I thought, "You're asking the impossible," I verbally promised, "Okay." So, this time, I tried being considerably honest.
Next, the customary acknowledgements. To my editor, who has now been in charge for two years, including my time before debuting. Thank you very much for your consideration and for putting up with the trouble I cause. I look forward to working with you in the future.
And to Hidari-sama, in charge of illustrations. I keenly feel my lack of vocabulary with these unchanging acknowledgements, but thank you for decorating this book with your beautiful cover art, frontispiece, and illustrations.
Also, thanks as always to my father, who slightly thumbs his nose at the world by saying things like 'How about using the picture *I* drew for the cover?', and to my mother. My father's comments are truly endless, so I'm deeply moved in that sense too.
This story will continue just a little bit longer. This time, it's not a lie.
Thank you very much for reading.
Hitoma Iruma

---

**Hidari**
A freelance illustrator living in Yokohama City, Gemini. Primarily works on card games, magazine pinups, etc. Lives a life like a hermit, out of touch with trends.
**(※ Photo is a painting by father)**

**Hitoma Iruma**
Main occupation: Social misfit. Side job: Novelist. Has a past where he declared "I'm gonna be a nouvellist!" since age one. Or so his father recently started claiming.
Apparently, I grew up properly watching my parent's example.

---

Lying Mii-kun and Broken Maa-chan 7
The Posthumous Influence is Predetermined

Hitoma Iruma

Dengeki Bunko

Published March 28, 2013
© 2009 HITOMA IRUMA / ASCII MEDIA WORKS

This e-book was produced based on the following:
Dengeki Bunko "Lying Mii-kun and Broken Maa-chan 7: The Posthumous Influence is Predetermined"
First printing April 7, 2009
Publisher: Satoshi Gunji
Published by: KADOKAWA CORPORATION
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