A small bin of cheap ingredients sits quietly on the lowest shelf. Bags of plain bean sprouts. Bruised, odd-shaped carrots. Small sacks of basic flour and slightly wilted cabbage leaves. Every single item carries a printed price tag of exactly zero points.
He stares at the dull plastic bags of sprouts. The items are just sitting there. A completely free ingredients.
Mako grabs a large box of imported chocolate cookies and tosses it into his basket. "These look good."
By the time they reach the checkout registers, Renjiro is carrying two completely full baskets. The thin plastic handles dig sharply into the palms of his hands. He hoists them up and places them heavily on the metal counter.
Mako swipes her student ID card, paying for everything without even looking at the total point deduction on the screen. She stares at the receipt as it prints, a bright smile crossing her face.
"I can't believe we have a monthly allowance of one hundred thousand yen," Mako says, stuffing the expensive items into three large plastic grocery bags. "The school is so generous."
"Carry these," she adds, handing him two of the heaviest bags.
They leave the mall. The automatic glass doors slide shut behind them, instantly cutting off the cool air conditioning.
The sky above the campus completely transformed while they were inside. The bright blue afternoon faded into a deep, bruised purple. A vibrant splash of orange and fiery red bleeds across the horizon as the sun begins to sink behind the tall trees bordering the school grounds. Long, dark shadows stretch across the paved walkways.
Renjiro walks slowly. The plastic rings of the grocery bags stretch tight, cutting painfully into his fingers. It clanks against his knees with every single step. His shoulders ache with a dull, throbbing burn.
"These bags are incredibly heavy," Renjiro complains, his voice a flat, exhausted drawl.
Mako walks two steps ahead of him. She carries a single, relatively light bag containing her snacks and bath bombs. She does not slow her pace.
"They are not heavy," she replies without looking back. "You just have zero muscles."
"I am carrying liquid. Liquid is physically heavy."
"Quit complaining. We are almost at the dorms."
The wind picks up and blows past the trees and rustling the leaves overhead. The temperature drops rapidly, pulling the heat out of the evening air. A cool breeze sweeps across the concrete path and rustles the stiff fabric of Renjiro's uniform trousers.
Renjiro stops walking. He lets the heavy bags rest against the pavement for about three seconds to restore blood flow to his aching fingers.
Mako notices his absence. She stops and turns around.
The dying sun hits Mako directly from behind. Bright orange rays catch the edges of her black hair. The intense glare washes out the distant trees. Her dark silhouette stands sharply outlined against the bruised purple sky. A cool breeze sweeps over the concrete, lifting her high ponytail.
She stands dead center on the empty path. Towering glass buildings loom at her back and reflects the sunset in hundreds of bright, burning squares.
Renjiro stares. His arms hang perfectly straight.
Mako shifts her weight. She holds her single, very light plastic bag with both hands in front of her skirt. A soft smile breaks across her face. The fading light catches in her blue eyes.
"I'm really glad," she says. Her voice drops, floating easily through the quiet evening air.
Renjiro does not reply. The plastic bag handles stretch tighter over his knuckles.
"I was so nervous this morning," Mako continues. She takes a small step forward. "A new school. New people. Being totally cut off from our parents and our old friends in the city. It felt really scary."
She looks down at the pavement for a second. Then her gaze snaps back to his face.
"But then I saw you sitting there in the classroom. And we are in the same class. And now we are walking back to our dorms together." Her smile widens, pushing up her cheeks. "I'm glad we are both here, Renji. Together."
Another gust of wind pushes past them. A dry leaf scrapes across the gap between their shoes.
Renjiro looks at the warm, orange light haloing her head. Then, he looks down at his own hands. His skin is currently turning a pale, ugly shade of purple from the restricted blood flow caused by her incredibly heavy shampoo bottles.
"Take one of these bags," Renjiro demands.