A gurgling sound escapes from Gum’s throat. I like it when she’s sitting like this—it feels intimate somehow. Gum looks pretty relaxed, but of course she’s not putting her whole weight on me. If she did, I’m sure I’d be crushed to death instantly. As we gaze at each other in silence, Gum and I are thinking about totally different things. I’m thinking about Mr. Ōya.
I haven’t known Mr. Ōya for very long. In fact, we had our first date just the other day. It’s still a bit early to tell, but I think he’s probably a really great guy. If someone were to ask me what makes him different from other people, I don’t think I could answer. I wonder if he actually is any different from other people. He and I both—we’re just humans, right? But no, something about him must be different. There must be something that sets him apart.
I stroke Gum’s back and ponder exactly what is distinctive about Mr. Ōya. Gum narrows her round eyes. It seems she’s enjoying being stroked.
The thing I like most about Mr. Ōya is how calm he is. I also like that his hands aren’t overly big or small, and I like the clothes he wears. There’s something about his presence I find reassuring. But what does that all mean? None of these qualities are particularly extraordinary, and they can’t explain the things I’m feeling.
From outside the window, I can hear the loudspeakers announcing that it’s cleaning time at the school, and then a crackly nursery rhyme starts to play.
Words like love and romance make no sense at all to me. It’s a terrifying thought that for such a long time, the continuation of the human race has relied on such ill-defined, potentially illusory concepts. If you ask me, it’s everything that has happened in the past that’s abnormal. The dwindling birth rate seems to me a total inevitability. It’s as if everyone’s finally woken up to the reality of our situation. When things get really bad, we can perish side by side. Rather than forcing people to have babies, better that we all just die together.
“Right, Gum?” I scratch a spot on the right side of Gum’s chin. She cocks her head, entreating me to scratch the other side too, so I obey.
I’m not very good with that half-pleasurable, half-sickening feeling you get when you’re about to fall for someone, or when you’re in the process of falling for someone little by little. I also suspect that I just like the feeling of having someone to obsess over, rather than actually liking him that much as a person. I’ve been guilty of the same thing in the past. Plus, just because you like someone doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a romantic kind of liking. Nothing in the various love and dating guides I’ve read has ever really struck a chord with me, and romantic movies and novels don’t either. I’ve just never been moved by stories of love and passion, so what I’m experiencing now makes even less sense. Are love and romance meant for me, or not? That’s what I’d like to know.
I shut my eyes, and the warm light filtering through my Indian cotton curtains hits my eyelids. I can feel Gum’s breath on my chin. She breathes really hard through her nose. The force of it splits my bangs, parting the hair to either side of my forehead. It tickles.
Gum and I grew up together. When she was a baby, Gum was absolutely tiny. I used to pick her up between my index finger and thumb and place her on my kidsize hand, and there she would wriggle around, working her way along its creases. It tickled so much that I couldn’t keep from laughing. Back then, I never once imagined she’d grow to this kind of size.
I named her Gum because the cold dampness of her body and her sticky mucus most closely resembled a ball of chewed-up gum. In the very beginning, I used to call her Croaky—not very original, I know. But then I hit on Gum, which seemed just perfect to me, and Gum herself seemed to like it too. So that’s what I called her, all the time we were growing up together. I always looked out for Gum, as if I were her older sister.
When I got to middle school, I started to realize what a valuable presence Gum was. Once, when my after-school club had dragged on for a long while and I was walking home in the dark, I saw a man dressed in black, hiding behind a utility pole. I was terrified, but I summoned Gum and she came to my aid right away. In university, too, Gum helped me deal with a senior guy who wouldn’t leave me alone.
My friends were having similar experiences. Such things happened day in and day out, working their way into our lives as if they had every right to be there. Sitting around in the student canteen, eating my cheese katsu and listening to my friends talking about being groped on the train, I would desperately wish that everyone had a Gum of their own. Gum has protected me through everything.
That’s why now Gum and I work to protect everyone else. We provide support for women facing problems with groping, stalking, harassment, and other kinds of abuse. It’s the perfect job for us. When women are on the move or coming home from work, I’ll either walk with them or watch over them from a distance. Sometimes, I’m on stakeout duty. It never takes too long for the men who like to cause trouble to show up. Then I summon Gum, and Gum and I glare at the men, and they flee. They scatter like little baby spiders. After years of being bosom buddies, Gum and I are now also a professional dream team.
Sometimes we come across bullish types who aren’t shooed away quite so easily,
