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Luigi took the form and gripped the ballpoint pen handed to him by the front desk.
"So, what's your first name, anyway?"
"It's the Japanese translation of 'love.'" If I was too roundabout and he didn't get it, that would be awkward, so this time, I was direct.
"Love? Ah—" "I'd rather you not say it." I held my palm up to his mouth. Luigi, though looking dubious, seemed to accept it with a "Takes all sorts, I guess."
"Kanji?" "Two hiragana characters, please." "...Alright, got it." The form was handed back. "Thanks," I said, completely trusting his report, and thrust the form at the front desk clerk without a single glance at it.
The front desk clerk, who had watched this entire exchange, showed no emotion and said politely, "Thank you very much," handing me a room card key.
I took the ultramarine blue card and traced the surface with my thumb, checking the number. Room 1702, huh? "The elevators are that way," the clerk informed me with a gesture. Back past the coffee shop, then turn left. "Thanks," I said to the clerk, and to Luigi as well, then headed back to Mayu. That girl was still talking to Mayu in a high-pitched voice. Mayu, on the other hand, was staring at the large window to her right, completely ignoring her. The fact that she wasn't pushing her down, stepping on her, or chomping on her made me think Ma-chan had really grown up, and only my tear ducts couldn't hold back. That's a lie, so instead, let's just print it out ourselves. The content and themes for that will pile up forever, after all.

"Soooo, liiike, I thiiink it's probably, mostly cooorreeect, y'knooow, youuuu?"
The girl, like a human megaphone, was a Peach Girl who looked as if she’d been carefully nurtured inside a peach and shipped out today. Her height was probably below average for a middle schooler. She wore a small, crown-shaped ornament as a hair clip. And what stood out against her white-peach-colored theme were her red shoes and red lips. They were a matching, spoon-worm red.
My first impression was that she resembled Toue. As for what part, it was her aura; the sharp, observant eyes, characteristic of someone driven purely by curiosity, turned towards me. Her mannerisms... if I called them 'little devil type,' would I fit in with the younger crowd? Though, the corners of her lips looked like they were about to twist with malice any second now.

"Hmm. You... don't seem to have anything special about you. You don't really click with me."
"Guess I didn't meet your discerning eye, huh?" And the girl's assessment was, once again, correct.
"Nope, not at all," she replied, as blandly as her words suggested, and walked past me. It seemed she was heading for Luigi. I wonder if she got bored of Mayu's unresponsiveness. ...Still, what's with her? She's totally off the charts. We clearly live in different worlds. If we faced off in an esper-training-slash-button-mashing-enhancement game, I don't think I could win.

Before I could finish saying, "Sorry to keep you waiting," Mayu, looking displeased, punched me in the lower abdomen. Was she scolding me for talking to the girl, or was it irritation at the girl clinging to her? It might have been both. She dug her fingertips into my flesh with all her might and used me as a support to stand up.
"It's the seventeenth floor. Ma-chan, do you have a favorite number?" "Three." "Oh?" "Because of Mii." "I see," we chatted, as we tiiied our pinkies. I grabbed the bag and resumed my porter duties.

On the way to the elevator, Mayu, perhaps lured by the smell of coffee, glanced into the coffee shop. "I want to eat cake later." "Mhm, then let's come eat." She's compliant when it comes to invitations for sweets.
But is it okay for Mii-kun, who's established as disliking sweeteners, to gobble down cake in front of Ma-chan? She got suspicious of me once just for eating a manjuu. Manjuu are scary.
When I pressed the up button, the door of the far-right elevator among the six immediately responded. Since no one else was waiting, we got in, closed the door right away, and I pressed the '77' button.
But that request was denied. "Please insert your card key," a synthesized voice prompted.
"Hmm?" I looked around like a country bumpkin, my specialty. Oh, there's a device called a card slot.
It seems the elevators in this hotel won't stop at each floor unless a card key is inserted; otherwise, they operate as a sort of slow free-fall. It's probably for security, but it might be convenient.
Mayu's apartment building has lax management. Thanks to that, we siblings were able to force our way into Mayu's room, so you never know what's fortunate or blatantly unfortunate; it makes you uneasy about how things will turn out.

After dealing with the card key, we finally began our ascent towards the seventeenth floor. The hands of gravity's infant tugged at the hem of my clothes from below. For me, that sensation is irresistible. I also liked the illusion of an endless road spreading out before my forehead. For a few moments, I surrendered my five senses to gravity.
We reached the seventeenth floor without any intermediate stops. This hotel has twenty-five floors, and the top floor is apparently an observation restaurant. I considered going there for dinner, but decided against it, factoring in my lack of suitable attire and table manners. Mayu is well-behaved, but I'm the problem, you see.
A man in a blue suit standing in front of the elevator had been looking at our pinkies with interest, but when our eyes met, he gave a gentle smile, a nod, and asked, "Is that important to you?"
For some reason, he approached. Then, pointing at Mayu, he asked with a gentle demeanor reminiscent of spring. Mayu, of course, ignored him. I recalled the radio program I'd heard in the taxi and sized up the man before me.
...Maybe it's best not to get too involved with him. Especially since he approached us.
After all, when he saw the string on our pinkies, it was as if that sealed the deal; he smiled and tried to make contact. Nothing good can be caught with a string like this. Myself included.
Besides, he seems to be hiding it now, but his eyes are kind of reptilian, this guy.

Making the wrong choice here felt, somehow, like it would toy with our fate.
"It's important, but she's not a 'thing'," I replied, playing it safe and uninteresting. What I really wanted to say was, *'What do you take Ma-chan for, my precious family heirloom that I want to store and display in a 165cm coffin... I mean, jewelry box? What an absurd question, you knooow.'*
That's a lie! BA-DUM TISH!
"My apologies."
His tone betrayed no ill will. He closed his eyelids contentedly and nodded once. His blond hair swayed as if in a gentle breeze. Then, the man in blue walked off down the hallway. I guess he wasn't waiting for the elevator. And what was he all about, anyway? The moment he was drawn to Mayu, who attracts more malice than static electricity, he became the kind of person I'd rather not get close to again.

"'It's important,' he said. Myufufu." Mayu’s face broke into a wide grin, as if she were rolling a candy of joy in her mouth.
"What's with that laugh?"
"Myufunofu."
"I'm saying..."
"Myuffuu."
"Myufuhah." The castle has fallen. Or rather, I've surrendered.
"Hey, hey, which way is our room?" Being alone together, combined with what I'd said, caused Mayu's attitude to soften instantly, and she even regressed to a more childlike state. Since yesterday, instead of packing her travel bag, she'd been running around, continuously producing excitement within her body. She woke up quite early this morning too. Her anticipation for the trip was immense.
"Um, the room is, uh..." I craned my neck in the bright hallway. "Ah, maybe this is it." A room layout sign was embedded in the wall. Room 1702 seemed to be to the left after exiting the elevator. Leading Mayu by the hand like a guardian, I entered the T-junction ahead. There was another sign here, and following it, I proceeded to the right.

In front of a vending machine right after the turn, a man was pacing back and forth, clutching a juice can and a cell phone. He looked to be college-aged, maybe a little older than us. My first impression was that he seemed like a rather flighty person.
He seemed restless rather than flustered. He gave a passing glance to me and Mayu, but then his gaze immediately started to wander again. It looked like he was waiting for someone. Well, none of my business.

Paying it no further mind, we arrived in front of Room 1702. Mayu pulled my arm, urging, "Hurry, hurry." "Alright, alright," I said, inserting the card key, confirming the green light, and then turning the doorknob. I actually quite like hotels, so I opened the door in high spirits.
And there was someone inside.
"[Gasp!]" This was the person inside. Frozen in a shifty posture.
"[...]" This was Mayu. Staring blankly, her reaction dull. Was she sleepy?
"[...?]" And this was me. Hmm. My blood flow went haywire.
We hadn't mistaken the room, and if we had, the door shouldn't have opened in the first place. Surely not a previous guest who overstayed, I thought, as we both stared, dumbfounded and frozen.
Leaning against the wall, his legs were sprawled out lazily. He was a man in his fifties, with a weary expression that spoke of utter exhaustion and being covered in wounds. A cigarette was between the fingers of his right hand, smoke curling up from it.

"This room is non-smoking, you know."
For some reason, that was the first thing I said. Clearly, my priorities were mixed up.
"Huh? Oh, uh..." And the intruder took the bait. He hurriedly looked down to put out the cigarette.
*This is my chance,* I judged, but Mayu was already moving. Pulled by the string on our pinkies, I too closed in, race-walking forward. I'd dropped my travel cannon somewhere along the way. To prevent the intruder from looking up, Mayu's and my feet shot out in unison towards his head. *Smush*, the intruder kissed the ground.

"Guoh, gya!" *Let's turn him into a super gutsy, flattened person,* I thought, my heart turning into a light truck as I stomped him flat over and over. My arms are already suffering from premature menopause due to overuse compared to the rest of my body, but a bipedal creature's means of attack aren't limited to its forelimbs, you know.
And above all, I have words. A fuel-efficient weapon that can become a blade or a bullet.
"N-no, wai-, stop, sto-!" A pleasant staccato plea, but I had no idea what he was trying to say.

The intruder arched his back like a turtle, curled up, and rolled around wildly. Even so, as we unreservedly kicked the trespasser, he swept our legs away with his arm and managed to get back into a half-crouch. The intruder didn't counter-attack; instead, he tried to flee. He couldn't even pick up the cigarette pack he'd dropped; the fingertips of his outstretched left hand brushed the floor futilely. Shaking his already disheveled hair even more wildly, he squeezed his body through the window that had been open from the start and disappeared outside the room in a sorry state. Looks like he came in through that window too.

I picked up the still-lit cigarette from the floor and, with Mayu in tow, rushed to the window.
I stuck my head out and confirmed the intruder's back as he walked along a narrow ledge provided on the wall. Little by little, fearfully, he was moving away from my room, proceeding along the wall. To have to perform such acrobatics at a height where, even if falling isn't instant death, your brains would likely splatter out... being an intruder is tough work, I thought. That was a lie.
Staaare as he goes. Watch him without fail. Watch him without letting him get away. Where do you think you're goooing? Because I wanted to play tag. That's another lie, though. There's no reason for it, but Mr. Intruder kept looking back this way, so I just... Did my doppelgänger's bullying habit possess me or something? If I hadn't kicked him out and had calmly offered him tea, I wonder what would have happened.
Well, I don't really care about what happens to the intruder, though.

After watching for a while, I pulled my head in, closed the window, and locked it. Had the cleaning staff forgotten to lock the window after someone checked out? Or maybe... that intruder was part of the hotel service, for stress relief? Like a punching bag for hire, though he turned into a ninja at the end. But well, I kicked him and made him retreat, so the room's safety is secured. Except for Mayu, that is... but let's set that joke aside.

He got away, so I didn't get any experience points or money... No, this isn't an 'old man mugging.'
"Mii-kyuuun!" From behind, she hugged me tightly around the waist. It was close to a tackle that sweeps your legs out, like something an American football player would do. My forehead, still looking out the window, slammed into the glass.
"Gyaaah!" It's a small mercy the sound effect was *thud* and not *CRASH!*
"A trip! A trip! Stingy Mii-kun's miracle has finally begun!"
"Just how much of a homebody with tight purse strings do you think I am, Ma-chan?"
"But I like that part of Mii-kun too, 'cause it's so Mii-kun Mii-kun-ish. Looove, lovelove, smoooch." She suckled my cheek.
At least, it's not the wallet itself, but its contents that are the problem, right?
And since she's paying for the entire trip, I can't exactly deny it.

Ignoring the bed, we rolled around on the floor together. Midway, the corner of the cigarette pack the intruder had left behind jabbed me near my spine, sending a slight pain through me.
Ah, right. I crushed the cigarette I'd picked up in my palm. It was a little hot, as expected. But well, I was 'used to' this much, so I put out the flame without even making a grimace.
Feigning recklessness, the rolling-around lovey-dovey couple headed for the room's entrance. I needed to insert the card key into its designated slot to activate the air conditioner and lights... huh, it's already in. I, of course, still had my card key, making it two in total. Was it that guy's?
The card key already inserted had no room number printed on it.
Well, I didn't feel like reporting it to the front desk. If it's there, fine by me, I decided, and left it.

What sounded like a cell phone ringtone was coming from next door, from the direction of Room 1701. It echoed murkily into our room, passing through the wall that was supposed to be a barrier. The soundproofing here seems far inferior to Mayu's apartment. ...Ah, right, the phone. I need to make a call too, don't I?
I hesitated, wondering whether to call the hotel front desk and request the police.
I didn't want to do anything unnecessary, have fate pick it up, and meddlingly sprinkle it with harmful seasonings. Honestly, the roots of suspicion, like that girl, were scattered all over the place.
...Ah, well, whatever. I don't want to get involved.
I've had enough of extreme narratives.
I don't want to get involved, and I don't want to get Mayu involved either.
The value of everyday life is extraordinary; that's been my consistent theme from the start.

So, after rolling around on the floor like a lint roller (what's its official name, anyway?) and getting my clothes dirty.
Prompted by the bedside digital clock showing 3:05, I got up from the bed. "Nyumumu?" Mayu, who had been hugging me from behind with her chin resting on my shoulder, her brow furrowed, voiced her question. "No, it's that phone," I said, pointing through the wall towards the source of the sound.
The phone in the next room had been ringing incessantly at one-second intervals for a while now. I don't know who that bland, odorless electronic sound was beckoning, but it showed absolutely no consideration for its surroundings. "Read the room!" I was about to transmit a lecture beam, conveniently ignoring my own faults. Not entirely a lie, either. Mayu's cheek, which had been pressed against mine, started to puff out like "poooh," so I decided to deal with the situation before she burst. First, I'd knock on the next room. If someone answered, I'd warn them. If not... we'd go to the coffee shop for cake. It's hard to get irritated while consuming sugar, or so I remember reading in some book. Not very credible, though. My little sister always used to get angry while eating mikan oranges.

"Ma-chan, shall we go eat some cake?"
"Mhm!! Let's go, let's go!! ...Nya? What's wrong, Mii-kun? You can go on ahead."
Ma-chan, her delicate arms wrapped around my neck with all her strength, continued her "dangling health regimen." There wasn't a hint of intention to walk on her own two feet. She was even egging me on with "Laaaunch!"
This posture is tough, you know. Because of our tied pinkies, I have to keep my left hand in front of my shoulder like a maneki-neko. Naturally, it's impossible to hold both her legs and carry her on my back.
If I try to support just one leg, Mayu protests with "Nn-yaah," making the burden worse, so I end up just dragging her with pure shoulder and neck strength. Maaan, I'm glad Ma-chan is light!
...Um, that's true, you know. She's definitely petite.

Dragging Mayu, who was stuck fast to my back, I wandered around the room getting ready to go out. While battling a tightness that felt like my waist would fold into a polygon, I put shoes on Mayu's feet. I adopted so many postures that made my stomach feel like a three-tiered New Year's kagamimochi, clearly putting my digestive system in no state to go eat anything now. I suspect that one of my forty-eight flaws is that my mouth always runs ahead, making no attempt to coordinate with other parts of my body. However, I have no intention of fixing it by just, shall we say, "loooking aaat iiiit."
It's been about a year since I became "Mii-kun." A lot has happened in that time. Things that fit, things I encountered, people I met. There are parts of me that have grown, and parts where I've given up on healing.
But I think I'm living more accepting of myself than I used to. That's the only easily understandable "positive step forward" for me.

"Wheee, wheee, Mii-kun is an amusement park!"
Whenever I changed direction, Mayu would unnecessarily swing her legs, drawing semicircles in the air. My neck, the fulcrum, endured a dull ache that sounded like it might make mysterious noises like "vocabulaaary" or "potemkiiin," experiencing the torture of that pain rotating like a potter's wheel.
However, I quite like these situations where I go "gueeh" and my tongue tries to abandon its post and flee, and perhaps Mayu's delighted squeals are the pinnacle of bliss for me.
Lovey-dovey couples transform even pain and anguish inflicted by their partner into happiness within their own world. True peace should start from such trivial things, so why does it only earn public disapproval?

Well then, shall we let's-go to the coffee shop? Ah, but before that, I'll knock on the neighbor's door.
I pulled out the card key that was inserted near the entrance, serving as the power source for the electrical system. "Ah," I remembered something and turned back once. I shoved the cigarettes the intruder had dropped into my pocket along with the card key, then went out. If I leave them, Ma-chan might turn into a delinquent, so that's a baaad thing. Well, that might not be a lie. If she stared at them, it could dredge up the past and cause Ma-chan's thought processes to malfunction, so it's wise to remove them from Maa-tan's nest.

"Ugh." When I stepped out into the hallway, the phone's ringing started again... huh? This one seems to be ringing *in* the hallway. I couldn't immediately pinpoint the source, but it sounded like someone's cell phone.
Everyone seems to love phones and radio waves. I'm a guy who's a bit particular about radio waves myself (to be precise, 'a guy who radio waves find a bit noisy'). The one in the hallway stopped ringing quickly, so that was fine.
Instead of heading down the path that continued to the far right, I went left, towards the end of the hallway.

I stood before a door constructed identically to ours, differing only in the printed number. Since there was someone waiting by my shoulder, I decided to let my maneki-neko left hand do the knocking. While praying that the red string connecting us wouldn't reel in a genuine, malicious fate, I knocked.
Fortunately or unfortunately, the only response was that phone, not a person. It started ringing again. When things get like this, it feels like a situation where I'll have to consider the occupant's safety is waiting for me, and I was starting to get fed up.
The intruder from an hour ago, who was there when we entered our room, stuck just his right hand out of the incinerator of my driven-away memories, asserting himself with cigarette smoke. I don't like cigarettes. Because they're burning. And their tips can so easily... my or Mayu's skin......... Whoops.
To erase the budding noise as well, I knocked once more, just in case. The phone didn't answer me. As I stood there, stock-still, Mayu's arms began to "steer" me. She tightened her grip around my carotid artery, urging me to hurry, hurry. Well, if no one's home, there's nothing I can do, I thought, and obediently complied, leaving the room behind. Now that we were away, I wished she'd loosen her grip and release some free air for me, but is that just me being spoiled, Ma-chan? Maaan, the air is thin at high altitudes.

Coughing unhealthily, I walked down the hallway. The figure in front of the vending machine had been removed, and it was now fulfilling its role of casting light into the dim hallway. Perhaps because there was nothing else making a sound, its operating hum echoed loudly around, stimulating my ears. ...Hm?
A white cat was wedged in the gap between the vending machine and the floor.
It didn't look like it was stuck, but its eyes were closed, and it was perfectly still, as if listening intently, its body melting into the darkness. Hmm, are pets allowed in this hotel?
Well, if humans can stay, other creatures shouldn't be a problem, I thought, and casually lost interest.
And further beyond the cat, like a 'precious item' guarded by a mid-boss, was a cell phone. This might be the phone that was ringing in the hallway earlier. My first thought was, "I'll see it and avoid it." A strange decision, somehow, but that intuition was screaming 'GYAAASUKA' in my head, so I decided to obey without objection. It's okay not to overthink things needlessly sometimes.

Maybe the cat is just hiding. Like me right now, if I weren't leaning forward with my knees slightly bent, adults probably wouldn't find it. I got a strong premonition of a great escape. On the other hand, lies were more than just premonitions for me. Even with a lie detector, it would constantly react to me, and you wouldn't be able to tell which one was the lie, would you?
"Ma-chan, what cake are you planning to eat?"
"Mont Blanc." A curt reply, her "outside" demeanor.
"Ah, September is autumn, after all," I replied with extreme carelessness, passing the corner and approaching the elevator.

Mr. Pacing-by-the-Vending-Machine (provisional name), the college student type I'd seen in the hallway on my way to the room, had now become Mr. Squirming-by-the-Elevator. His neck and wrist were contorted. In his right hand, a rectangular card key.
Trying not to draw his attention, I approached, and I could hear him muttering in a low voice, "Whose is this...?" As a bonus, Mayu "hamuhamu-ed" my ear, giving me an unhealthy chill. I shivered once, then straightened my slightly stooped posture.
Peeking at the number on the card key he was holding between his fingers, it was, in a way, the winning number: '1701'.
- The card key, presumably found, and the ringing cell phone.
Combined with his current muttering, my falsehood began to involve itself in optimizing the situation.
"Oh, so that's where I dropped it."
Full marks for feigned innocence, and with at least a sliver of forced cheerfulness, I addressed the college student type.
The college student type who turned around first squinted, "Huh?" then his eyes widened in surprise, "Wha-?"
Judging from his pea-shooter-startled expression, we must seem a bit odd... Hmm, too many possibilities to narrow it down. For now, probably Mayu playing turtle shell on my back.
"Did you pick it up for me?" Liar Mii-kun, boldly approaching.
"Um, well, it wasn't me, per se, but a cat... Is this for your guys' room?" He gestured, showing us the card key with the room number facing out.
It's nice to have someone older-looking who will at least engage in conversation, unlike a spectacle that offers surprise and emotion but then just exits. Most of the residents near our apartment blithely ignore us even in the morning.
And it also became clear that this person was not the guest of Room 1701.