A successful outing. Good.
Though it would be even better if the subject were a little closer.
Shiori watched Yimi nibbling at her ice cream with great caution—apparently terrified of having her power sealed—the little one had tucked most of herself behind a tree a full five meters away and was peering around it, ducking her head back the moment their eyes met.
"You don't have to be so afraid of me. I won't seal your power without your permission."
Before getting into the date itself, there was something unrelated she needed to ask first: "By the way, how did Yimi end up getting picked up by Origami?"
"Cat dealer." Yimi raised a paw.
She had absolutely no idea what that child was talking about.
"Uh... I'm not trying to get Yimi away from Origami, it's just that Origami might... not be too fond of Spirits?" Shiori couldn't think of a gentler way to put it.
"Shiori, careful—don't say anything that'll make the Spirit dislike you!" Kotori's voice warned through the earpiece.
This time Shiori ignored her sister. She crouched down to bring herself below Yimi's eye level, placed a hand on her shoulder, and with a serious expression asked something outside the standard liaison plan: "I don't think it's Yimi, but can I ask—a major fire broke out in Tenguu City five years ago. Does Yimi know anything about that?"
The little cat counted on her fingers and answered earnestly: "Yimi only came to this world a few days ago."
"I see." Shiori let out a breath.
"Because of Origami—the sister who brought you to school—her parents were killed five years ago. The culprit was reportedly a Spirit that radiated pure white light, which is why she hates Spirits very much."
"Mm? That wasn't me."
"I believe it wasn't Yimi. But that white-haired girl might not be calm enough to stop and listen to an explanation."
The little cat chewed the tip of her thumb, conflicted.
She'd caught the gist—Shiori didn't want her to let on that she was a Spirit who emitted white light.
A loading bar seemed to appear over Yimi's head, because she'd just realized she'd never truly understood what a "Spirit" was.
"Save the persuasion for later, Shiori. I know what you said matters, but anything that stirs up complicated feelings during the liaison process is an obstacle you're setting for yourself. Now pull up that shutter in front of you." Kotori directed from the earpiece.
No real reproach in her voice—this situation was genuinely unusual. The last time, after Yoshinon had left Yoshino, it was just an inert hand puppet Shiori had easily retrieved.
Shiori did as instructed. Someone had left Yimi's twist car in the storage room behind the shutter at some point.
She bent down and rolled it out. "Yimi—remember this?"
"I don't have it anymore." The little cat spat the unswallowed ice cream back into the cone and returned it to Shiori.
She only had one twist car to offer as payment to that loser.
"No, I'm giving it back to you." Shiori sighed inwardly, unable to understand why this child always assumed any kindness had to be repaid.
Though strictly speaking, that wasn't entirely wrong here...
Shiori smiled her signature gentle smile. "As a responsible adult, I would never take away something Yimi treasures."
"I don't treasure it. I already gave it to you." The little cat shook her head.
The twist car was fun, but the noise got to her after long rides.
Thinking Shiori was rejecting the thing, Yimi added helpfully: "It's very useful. It can kill people."
Hearing a small child say that so matter-of-factly was oddly unsettling.
"Then it's Yimi's trusty companion for self-defense, isn't it? How could I take that from you?"
"Just transfer the misfortune away—that's fine." Seeing that Shiori wasn't taking the ice cream, Yimi simply stuffed it directly into her pocket.
Shiori fished it back out helplessly, unable to undo the sticky damage already done to her clothes.
"If it can be avoided, it's better not to let innocent people get hurt for no reason..." She scratched her cheek. She understood the ability, but it still made her a little uneasy.
Something occurred to her. She held up a finger. "Actually, how does Yimi's misfortune transfer work exactly? Last time I seemed to briefly see people from all over the world."
"You're talking about her abilities now? Forgotten the main objective?" Kotori grumbled in the earpiece.
"Just throw the 'misfortune' out." Yimi didn't fully understand it herself. Since arriving in this world she hadn't heard the Saint's phantom voice lecturing her again.
"Then could the misfortune be split into smaller pieces and shared among a lot of people? That way no one would die, right?"
Shiori started coming up with a terrible idea: "Like, say the misfortune was a fatal attack—Yimi finds a hundred people in the middle of pulling gacha, and shares it across them. They each just suffer a dry streak with no drops, right? A minor inconvenience?"
"What are you on about?! A minor inconvenience?! That's my wife gone!" came a voice from somewhere among the liaison team, growing rapidly quieter, presumably dragged away by someone.
Yimi stared at Shiori, having understood none of that. Besides, she didn't... at least, not in her current state with only a partial Holy Corpse fusion, she didn't have that level of fine control.
"That might be asking too much... Yimi likes sweet things, right? Have you ever had a macaron?" Shiori changed the subject with obvious force.
Yimi put her hands behind her back. "I have nothing to trade you with anymore."
"That's why I keep saying it's a gift from me." Shiori reached out and ruffled the little girl's hair before she could protest.
"There's no particular reason. I don't want anything in return. It's simply because I like Yimi. What I want to see is Yimi's happy face when she gets a gift—not Yimi worrying about how to repay me."
Yimi raised a hand and pointed at her. "Then swear it. Swear you'll stop hanging out with that big idiot."
"...A good child shouldn't say things like that."
Hearing that clear child's voice use that particular term again landed with a particular sting.
The favorability drop Yimi had directed at her owed a great deal to Miku—Shiori had been hoping to bring Miku over to apologize, and Miku herself had shown a willingness to do so (motivated largely by the discovery that Yimi was a cute girl). But she hadn't forgotten the fact that Yimi's favorability had already dipped before Miku had even appeared.
She needed to get to the bottom of that before the liaison could move forward.
Shiori looked down at the little girl's ice-cream-sticky mouth—a mouth only used for eating.
As if reading her thoughts, Yimi shuffled a few steps further away. "I won't let you seal me."
"May I ask why?" Shiori sat on the edge of a flower bed, patting the spot beside her.
Yimi didn't dare get closer. "I want to go home."
"Home?" Shiori's first thought was Origami's apartment—she assumed she'd upset the child again.
Yimi tilted her head. "Don't you have a home?"